Bryce Moore's Blog, page 300

Writing Update: Vodnik and Tarnhelm

Enough people have asked me here and there about what exactly I'm working on these days that I thought an update was called for on the blog. So. What am I working on?



Well, I'm not working on Vodnik right now. My editor has the manuscript and will be getting further edits back to me soon. Until then, I'm doing my best to forget everything about the book that I can. Not because I'm sick of it, but because I want to approach it with as fresh eyes as possible. Going over the same material time and time again makes it hard to be able to tell when something is working and when it isn't. It starts to feel like a memorized speech, as opposed to something you're saying with feeling and meaning. Does that make sense? So I'm trying to get what little distance I can get from it.



I've finished my author Q & A, I wrote a Slovak pronunciation guide, a note from the author about events in the book, a "Further Reading" piece, an acknowledgements page and dedication--all the little bits that need to go here and there in the book. I also had the chance to discuss some of my ideas of what the cover could look like (that was exciting--and something not all authors get to give input on. A lot of times you're completely at the mercy of your publisher's art department. Not that I have any control over the cover, but at least I was asked what I'd like. That felt nice.)



Anyway, once that was all done, it was time to turn back to Tarnhelm. For those of you who don't know what that project is, allow me to inform you. (I'm not sure if I've tried to ever describe it succinctly before, so this should be an interesting experience.) Let me start with the most basic level: it's YA Noir. What do I mean by that? I mean it's a stylized YA hardboiled detective novel, along the lines of The Big Sleep and The Maltese Falcon. Except instead of a hardboiled detective, you've got a hardboiled ace reporter--who's about 16 years old. Think Veronica Mars from TV, or Brick from film. That's the sort of feel I'm going for.



But if you've read any of my books, you know that I sometimes have a penchant for weirding things up some. So what makes this one different from other YA Noirs (because there's so many)?



This one has fantasy elements woven into it. Not heavy fantasy--more along the lines of Indiana Jones fantasy. Yes, there's this object that can melt faces, but for the most part, the movie's about action and adventure, not magical objects that melt faces.
This one has one heck of a screwed up main character. Vee Hertz has mental issues. He's trying to work through some serious inner turmoil, and the way he's been handling it is by patterning his life after Film Noir movies. It's told from his point of view, and everything that happens to him is seen through a Film Noir lens. He's the sort of kid right now who flips a coin as a tip to a McDonald's employee. The kind of guy who tries to bribe librarians with folded up twenties. Make sense?
And to make matters more complicated, Vee starts to think that he's caught in the middle of the plot of the Maltese Falcon. Everyone after a certain object they're willing to kill for, and he's the one trying to stay alive and make a profit in the middle of it all. He starts to base some of his decisions and actions on what Sam Spade does in the book/movie. Tarnhelm isn't really an adaptation of Maltese Falcon. It's more like a serious parody of the book. It transplants some plot elements from the hardboiled world of Dashiell Hammett to the high school world of today's teenager. I don't like the word "parody," because these days that almost always is interpreted as a Weird Al spoof. This isn't a spoof.
See why it's easier just to call it YA Noir with light fantasy elements?

In any case, I'm 41,000 words into that project now, and it's going swimmingly. I've got it plotted out completely now, and the writing's chugging along with no problems. I've been workshopping it in writing group, and it's had some of the best responses I've ever gotten for a first draft. It feels great to be working on something new.

Once I'm done with it and with the Vodnik rewrite, I plan to turn my attention back to one of my earlier books for another earnest revision. I'm leaning toward Weaver of Dreams, but we'll see how I'm feeling. And there you have it--the current state of writing for yours truly.

Planning a Vacation in Europe

You all know we're headed to Europe. Back when Denisa and I were still in the planning stages of this trip, we really only had two objectives: go to Slovakia and go to Germany (back to the area where I served my mission). In the flurry of plane ticket buying, those objectives changed: go to Slovakia, Vienna and London. Which is all very fun and exciting, but yesterday the travel guides came for Vienna and London, and I realized: *I need to plan out three trips, not just one*.



I'm sad we're not making it to Germany. Again. I've really wanted to go back. From time to time I check out the cities I live in, using Google Maps. Leipzig, Schwarzenberg, Gotha, Weimar--I lived each of those places for a half year, and I'd love to show them off to Denisa and the kids. Then again, my kids aren't old enough to remember going to them if we went, so I guess it's a moot point. If I could only become a wildly popular German language author like my friend Dan, I'd get a trip to the Leipzig book fair, which would solve all my problems. :-) Guess I'd better keep writing.



But anyway. Life would be easier planning these things if money were no object. I could just rent a car, pick a hotel that has great reviews and be off and running. However, money definitely *is* an object. So we're using public transportation from the airports and around the cities, which then makes finding a hotel difficult. Not only do we want one reasonably priced (in London--good luck!) but we'd like one that has good reviews. (Defeats the purpose to get there and stay in a hole the whole time.) And it has to be within walking distance of public transportation that both goes to the airport and downtown London. Oh--and we'd like to pay attention to room size, because if we get a postage stamp of a room, it's doubtful we'll get any sleep. TRC and DC don't sleep well when we're in the same room with them. They just want to play.



And I don't just have to do that with London. I need to figure out Vienna (easier, since it'll just be Denisa and me there) and Eastern Slovakia (Denisa's department--she's spearheading that operation).



Yesterday I was online for about four hours at home trying to find the perfect spot, and I came up empty. I'll try again tonight. Unless, of course, one of you has an apartment in London you're--you know--*not using*. And if you had a car conveniently parked at the airport, I'd take that, too. :-)



Once I find places to stay, I'll move on to Things to Do, which should be more enjoyable.

Find Out How They Really Feel: Kids Reviewing Books!

My local bookstore does this yearly activity in partnership with a number of elementary school classes: the owner of the store provides the kids with ARC (advance review copies) of upcoming books, and he lets the kids review the books and then posts them on his site. Check 'em out here, here and here. I find the reviews wonderfully refreshing. There's no mincing words--no fear of insulting anyone, or burning any bridges. Just straightforward opinions:

When reading The Penderwicks I only had one problem. I didnt know it was the third book in the series because it was not numbered. It was a book I would say was a 4th-6th grade book. A fourth grader could read it but it had a lot of teenage stuff in it. It had girls and boys in it but it is more a girl book. I liked it but it was confusing. I suggest reading the first two books before this one. Other than that, It was a good book.

Or this one (about Stickman Odyssey):

I like the book. I think it is funny and it is a great book to read by yourself. If I was grading the book Id give it a B-. For grade level Id say 5th or 6th grade. I dont recommend it for ages 10 and under because it has a couple of bad words. Also, there is a lot of blood and guts. It would most likely scare second graders.

 Or this one:

The Trouble with May Amelia was a really boring book. I think that this book would be a 3rd-4th grade reading level book but its a story for older kids, mostly girls. I would recommend this book to someone that likes old-fashioned type books like The Little House on the Prairie books. Book pages with problems: 28 and 37.

What if your Publisher's Weekly Review was this:

I rated this book a 3. I really could care less about it, because it wasn't what I thought it would be I thought there would be more action . I think Forgive My Fins is a bad title because people will think it's about a mermaid cluts. Well I think this book is a waste of paper.

And to think I sometimes feel bad about the negative reviews I post on my blog. :-)

 

Rejoicing in Death: The Wicked Witch of the East Effect

So. Osama's dead. (Or so we're told--I give it a few days at most until the conspiracy theorists start showing how Bin Laden's demise is all just a ruse to distract attention away from the Birther movement.) And there's great rejoicing across the nation. People are singing spontaneously in public, and the country's experiencing a degree of unity not felt since 9/11.



How do I feel about it?



I'm not crying the guy's dead, first off. But I do kind of wish he hadn't been killed, mainly because I think that was way too easy on him. I had a Twitter post where I snidely wished we'd have been playing by the Princess Bride "To the Pain" rulebook, but I didn't mean by that that I really wanted the guy's nose sliced off or anything. It just seems to me that a quick death isn't really justice. It's like in the final scene of Se7en, where Brad Pitt pulls the trigger once, then pauses and pulls the trigger a few more times. The guy's dead after the first shot. Every other shot is just trying to make the vengeance last longer.



Of course, what would have happened if Osama were taken alive? A political and world-wide circus, most likely. Something sloppy and messy along the lines of Hussein's capture and eventual execution. What would have happened if Hitler had been taken alive? The sad truth of the matter is that you can only kill a person once, and when they're responsible for so much pain, mental anguish and death, that single death just doesn't seem to balance all that other stuff out.



Is it right for people to be cheering in the streets because someone's dead? It certainly seemed okay when the Munchkins were doing it in The Wizard of Oz. But to me it does feel kind of oily. There are better things to celebrate in this life, aren't there? Then again, executions used to be whole-town celebrations, as well. Everyone would turn out to watch the hanging or the witch burning.



It seems to me that the more fuss we make about Osama, the more power we give him. I wish the man were no more than a footnote in history. I think he'd take a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing how much his death pleased Americans, because it means he was very successful in his war against us. Because of this man, our airports are a circus, full of body scans, pat downs, shoe removals, no liquids--it's ridiculous. But there are better reasons to celebrate, aren't there? Why should it need to be the death of a madman that makes us come together as a people?





I had friends who almost died on 9/11. People who were at or near the World Trade Center that morning. People who I didn't know if they were dead or alive until the evening of the attack. I understand the need for closure, and I understand the knee-jerk reaction we can feel right now--as if Bin Laden's death brings everything to an end.

Too bad it doesn't. When horrific things happen, they never have an end. They affect you, and no one's death can take it all back.



How do I feel about this?



Conflicted, obviously.

Thoughts on the Royal Wedding: What I Wish Would Have Happened

Yes, I watched it this morning. I was up working on my writing anyway, so I figured why not. I can't say I devoted my full attention to it, but then again it didn't really seem like something you needed to have your whole attention for. I mean, there was a lot of singing and music and waiting and waving and smiling. Not exactly rocket science, and there wasn't even a quiz afterward.



What did I think?



I think I'm really glad I wasn't anywhere near London this morning. Certainly not near Westminster Abbey. Because if I was, I think I wouldn't have been able to keep the snark inside me. You see, I realized this morning that I haven't really witnessed any mainstream wedding ceremonies first hand. I've been to a couple of Mormon ones, and I've been to a Quaker ceremony, but no Catholic or Protestant services.



But then again, I've witnessed loads of them on TV and in the movies. And this morning, I decided the ones on TV and in film just don't prepare you for how slow they are in real life. And as I've thought it over, there are a number of things that should have happened this morning that didn't. So without further ado, I give you: Bryce's Top Ten Things He Wished Would Have Happened at the Royal Wedding.



No last minute objections, followed by Kate realizing the prince she was marrying was really just a prematurely bald fuddy duddy, at which point she ditches him to run off with a hip cool guy with a full head of hair.
No spontaneous song and dance numbers about true love. Ideally, this would happen after Prince William admits just what exactly happened at his bachelor party last night. If he'd managed to at least sport a black eye and some strange sort of facial tattoo, I would have been willing to let the musical number slide.
No Hollywood/Disney-style special effects to show just how magical a union it's going to be. Seriously. They spent how many millions of pounds on this affair, and they couldn't even manage some Tinkerbell sparkles released at an opportune moment? What about trained birds to flock in a heart shape above the couple's adoring heads? I demand more from my elaborate weddings!
No long wait while the bride or groom debated whether or not she or he really wanted to go through with this. I'm sure it happened--we just didn't get the backstage coverage necessary to have been witness to it. Come on, press! Next royal wedding, I want a reality series, full of long, drawn out boring interviews with everyone involved. Also, I want to be able to vote for who the bride will be. Also the groom, if that's a possibility. Just sayin'.
No attack by the Dread Pirate Roberts. I was crushed, people. CRUSHED!
And speaking of that, no speech impediment by the priest. What's up with that? I think we can all acknowledge that some comic relief would have been nice at that point. At least someone in the crowd could have had some inopportune flatulence. I'm looking at you, Elton John. You've got experience entertaining people. Entertain me! If not with flatulence, how about an impromptu Lion King song? (see #2)
No sword fighting. If Prince William really loves this girl this much, he should have had to defend her from intruders, pirates, ninjas and nazis (for good measure). Preferably until he's so swashbuckled his knees wilt. You can't tell me they're out of swords. It's *England*, for crying out loud.
No one used the wedding as an excuse to steal the crown jewels. Talk about perfect timing. Come on, super criminals--do I have to do all your plotting for you?
No talking animals. At all. Not even a talking squirrel. Not that all weddings have them or anything, but still--it would have been a nice addition. Maybe at least a chimpanzee dressed up in a tux. I'm a sucker for chimps in black tie.
An extreme lack of rice, garters and thrown bouquets (preferably caught by Elton John). What's the point in having stereotypes and tropes if we don't haul them out for these important occasions?\\
Anyway. There you have it. There are more ways the wedding disappointed me, but I had to keep this list manageable. How about you? What did you think? What stood out as glaring omissions for you? If we make this list long enough, CNN might use it in its i-report section. Or--dare I hope it--we might be able to demand a redo of the wedding. Or at least an extended edition for the blu-ray.[image error]

Book Review: Faithful Place

Faithful Place by Tana French



My rating: 4 of 5 stars





I've enjoyed Tana French's books thus far--enough so that I wanted to read this one. At this point in my reading life, it's not often that I read multiple books by the same author. I just don't have the time to commit to one genre and author--not when there are so many other excellent books being published every day. I like to dabble, going from one genre and author to the next, getting a feel for what's out there. When I find something I like, I will return. This is the third book of hers that I've read, and I guess I'd have to say I'm becoming a fan. Not a die-hard, will-read-everything-by-her-no-matter-what fan, but still--I haven't been let down yet.



What's great about this book is that I feel it's a step up for her. Her previous books felt like interesting, well-executed murder mystery novels with a more literary bent. More thinking involved than you'd get in the latest Cornwell or Evanovich. But not enough so that French stood out to me as an author. That's changed with Faithful Place. I'm beginning to know what sort of books she writes. The characters are more fully fleshed out. The literary bent is more pronounced.



But what really made this one stand out for me is the way the city (Dublin) took on an active, living role in the novel. You could tell these characters actually *lived* there. Locations were fully formed. They had a real impact on who the people who lived there were, and what could or could not happen. So often, I feel like setting in a mystery is there more for the flair than for any real effect. Maybe you have some southern drawl going on, or a bit of generic Angela Lansbury Maine. But that's all window dressing. You could switch the setting and have essentially the same plot.



Not so with this novel. You feel like you get to understand Dublin by the end of it. At least a piece of the city. (Of course, I can't say how accurate that understanding is--but at least I feel like it was well described.) The setting and the plot are intrinsically tied together in this novel.



It's the story of a cop returning to the place he grew up to solve the murder of his first true love. There's neighborhood intrigue, family machinations, police in-fighting--all very well done. It didn't quite have the oomph to get me to give it 5 stars. Something just didn't click 100% for me. Maybe it's a sign that while I like literary fiction, I don't *enjoy* it as much as pure genre fic. Either way, I enjoyed the book, and I look forward to reading her next.



View all my reviews[image error]

Lighten Up, People: Avoiding Negativity in an Increasingly Negative World

First off, a disclaimer. This isn't a post that's aimed at anyone. I'm not talking about specific people here, and there's nothing that I've read that's set me off this time. I try not to use my blog as a personal soap box to take pot shots at people. That said, I've seen a growing trend among many people, both in person and online, and I wanted to speak out about it.



Lighten up, folks!



My golly. There are just so many negative vibes emanating from everyone these days. People are angry at Obama. People are angry at the birthers. People are angry at Trump. Trump's angry at everybody. People are angry at angry people. (Who--me?) So let me get this straight: Obama is bonehead for giving into the birthers and releasing his birth certificate, thereby distracting our great country from what's really important: the royal wedding?



Don't get me wrong. I like to grouse and complain as much as the next guy. (If you read my blog regularly, you're well aware of that fact.) But I've come to a realization in the past week or so. Some people are negative. Some people aren't. It would make sense that the negative people have had many more bad things happen to them in their lives, thus souring their outlook on life. Likewise, it would seem to follow that the positive people are ones who have just been super-blessed. Trouble never came their way, so they traipse on in blissful ignorance.



Except that's not how it is, from my viewpoint.



How much personal pain and suffering you've gone through in life doesn't seem to have a direct effect on how positive or negative you are in general. Sure, there'll be times we're all down some. We're going through a rough patch. Whatever. But even then, positive people are still less negative than their negative counterparts would be in the same situation.



Why is this?



One of the things that has irked me the most recently is how much Americans on both side of the political fence seem to enjoy complaining about how awful the other side has made this country. Sorry, folks. I don't buy it. Take a step back, and look at things from an outsider's perspective. Imagine if you were just an ordinary Joe, and you overheard Donald Trump and Bill Gates arguing about how awful it was that Gates dinged Trump's fender on his Bentley. How the Bentley was ruined now. Heck--even if Gates had crumpled in the passenger side door, you'd still roll your eyes some, wouldn't you? There go the two rich kids, squabbling about stupid things while the rest of the world tries to ignore them.



Our country's still great. Obama hasn't ruined it. Trump won't be able to damage it. Life will go on.



In the meantime, don't get so darned upset about things. I've used politics as an example, just because it's the easiest target, but this isn't a political post. I've just noticed that some people are going to complain about everything. Nothing goes right in their life. Other people keep an even keel and look on the bright side. They don't get down. Maybe there's something to that whole glass-is-half-empty thing after all.



I personally don't really enjoy being around the negative. I don't ignore the problems happening in my life or other's, but I don't dwell on them, either. That way lies madness and ruin. As I look at the people I choose to do things with--people I like spending time with--I see that most of them are really positive people. Not annoyingly so, but still. People who like to keep a good, but realistic, view of the world.



I do think it's a lifestyle choice. But maybe I'm just too darned positive. How about you? Do you think a positive attitude is a choice? Discuss . . .



Meanwhile, here's some quotes about attitude I stumbled across online, all of which I heartily endorse.



Do you have any favorites?





If you don't get everything you want, think of the things you don't get that you don't want. ~Oscar Wilde



The sun shines and warms and lights us and we have no curiosity to know why this is so; but we ask the reason of all evil, of pain, and hunger, and mosquitoes and silly people. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson



Happiness is an attitude. We either make ourselves miserable, or happy and strong. The amount of work is the same. ~Francesca Reigler



The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitudes. ~William James



People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Worship," The Conduct of Life, 1860



"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." "And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately." ~A.A. Milne

Ignoring Our Neighbors--Call for Tree Recommendations

About a year ago, we found out that there was going to be a house built out in our front yard. (Well, not really our front yard. More like 100 yards in front of us--but there's nothing in between us, so it's a fairly big change to our view.) Anyway, it's built now, and it's a very nice house and all, but . . . I'd really rather be looking at something else. Yes, it could have been a trailer or something, but as long as I have all that space between us, it seems like a darn shame not to put something there that (within a few years) will be nice and big and bushy and obstruct most of the house from view.



That's where you come in, hopefully.



Denisa and I went off to look at some tree candidates on Monday, and we have a few in mind. Allow me to run down the potential candidates.



White Pine--Native to Maine. It grows about a foot a year and can get really bushy really fast. However, once it gets beyond a certain height, it seems like it might start thinning out some--isn't quite as good of a screen.
Norwegian Fir--Bristly and not as fast growing. Can be really dense though, and stays dense throughout its life.
Balsam Fir--Native to Maine. It doesn't grow all that fast, and it doesn't get too bushy. Not bristly, but gorgeous once it's nice and big. I like the look of this tree the most once it's mature--the trick is all the years it will take to get it there.
So how about it, readers? Any of you know trees well? Any other suggestions? I'm thinking about getting a few white pines, as well as some balsam firs, and then essentially planting a copse of trees in my front yard. I might have to fill in some patches later with shrubs, but that's okay. A big bonus would be that I wouldn't have to mow all that space anymore. Mowing is a waste of time, in my opinion. The less I have to do it, the better.

Another question for you--do you think I have to worry at all about ticking off my neighbors? I don't want to seem . . . unneighborly, but I'd rather look at trees than look at them. It's not like I'm building a giant model of Devil's Tower in my front yard or anything. ("This means something.") Thoughts?

Movie Review: Source Code--See it now!

The movie Denisa and I went to see last night was Source Code, a slick sci-fi movie that seems (to me, at least) to have been flying under the radar. It's got a 7.8 on IMDB, a 90% fresh rating on Rottentomatoes, has Jake Gyllenhaal starring, and is directed by the same guy who did the fantastic Moon. And yet I haven't been hearing any buzz about it at all--or at least no buzz that penetrated my cocoon enough to register. I mean, Hop made 12.2 million last weekend, and this movie only made 5?



That's a pity.



You should go watch this movie, if you're a sci-fi fan. Is it the Best Movie Ever? Well, no. It bites off a bit more than it can chew, in my opinion. It's got 3/4 of a fantastic movie, and 1/4 of a really good movie. If that 1/4 had started the film, or been the second or third quarter, it wouldn't have mattered as much. But it's the last 1/4, which is unfortunate. Still, it's not insurmountable, and it by no means is a deal breaker. This is a solid three star movie in my book, and it's worthy of your cold hard cash.



One reason it's probably not gaining any traction is that it's one of those "You need to see it to know what it's about" sort of things. There are twists and turns to the plot, and you don't want to be spoiled going into it. So I won't tell you about those things. Another reason is that I think it has an awful title. Source code? The thing sounds boring as something named "Users Manual." It's generic, and it lacks anything to set it apart.



One warning: the climax has the biggest flaw for the film, and it's the reason the movie didn't make it to 3.5 stars or higher for me. It peaks a bit too soon, and then you're left with 15 minutes of long denouement, which felt really out of place for me in this genre.



Why should you see it? It's smart sci-fi. It's demanding and intriguing. It's well acted. It's unpredictable. It's just a fun movie.



One interesting tidbit if you're a Quantum Leap fan: the voice of the father is Scott Bakula. There are very clear Quantum Leap parallels in this movie--yet another reason why it's a shame it's not getting better play.



Already seen it? Disagree with me? Speak up!

10 Years: A Look Back at Eloping

Ten years ago today, I eloped.



It wasn't like you see in the movies. It's not like Denisa and I looked at each other that morning and said, "What the hey--let's get married." We didn't wake up next to each other after an all-nighter and find out we'd been married in some sort of drunken stupor. Las Vegas wasn't involved. (Although we did consider getting married in Las Vegas, just so we could say we did. It was a longer drive, though. And not as cool as Manti.)



No--our elopement was much different. We planned it out months in advance. When you live in a marriage-hungry place like Provo, Utah, it's quite difficult to elope properly. For one thing, you've got all these friends who are constantly roaming the streets. Have you ever tried to hunt for an apartment without running into anyone you know? We had to live somewhere once we were married, after all. There were two or three very nice apartments we had to just walk on by instead of checking them out, because we saw someone we knew already looking.



We didn't tell anyone we were engaged, although I did let my family know ahead of time that when I got married, they wouldn't be there. It wasn't the easiest conversation I'd had with everyone in my family, but they were all understanding well in advance of when I finally eloped. Actually, quite a few of them had a pool going as to when I'd actually do it. I forget who won.



Of course, all secrets have a way of bubbling to the surface. The night before the big day, I came home with a rented tux, and my roommates looked at it in confusion. "Going to a wedding?" "Yup," I said. "Whose?" "Mine."



Their expressions were worth it.



We'd chosen to get married in the Manti Temple for a couple of reasons: first of all, my ancestors helped build it. Second of all, it was on the way to Bryce Canyon and Zions, where we'd chosen to honeymoon. (Our other choice had been Yellowstone, in which case we'd have chosen a different temple, but again--it was too far of a drive.) I called my family from the gas station just outside of Manti. (I didn't have a cell phone yet.)



We'd arranged for a photographer (we have lots of pictures--all of them just of us.) He was Denisa's boss at the BYU Bookstore where she worked at the time, and he bought us a photo frame engraved with a picture of the temple and our names and the date. While he was standing in line to order it, he turned to the girl behind him and asked her how she'd spell Bryce (he realized too late he hadn't asked). She knew just how to spell my name--she was my sister in law's sister, and I'd even been on a date or two with her. (But hey, I'd been on a date with lots of girls at BYU. (-:  )  So of course she tells him, then gets on the phone with her sister, who gets on the phone with her husband, my brother.



Like I said, secrets bubble.



But in any case, it was all too late and we were too far away for anyone to make it to the temple in time to be there for the ceremony. (I eloped for many reasons. I won't go into them here.) The ceremony was great. I remember when we'd driven down to Manti ahead of time to meet with the Temple workers and plan things out, they'd been quite confused. Mormon weddings typically happen in temples, where only faithful adult church members can attend. You'll get something like 20-40 people at the ceremony. There's a temple sealer (we believe marriages performed in a temple last not just til death do you part--you're "sealed" together for time and eternity) who you can choose. There are two witnesses, who you also choose. We asked to be married in the tower. They told us that would be really hard on our grandparents, who would have a hard time with the stairs. They couldn't quite understand that it was just going to be the two of us. They asked us who we wanted as witnesses and a sealer. We said whoever the temple had on hand that time. (They ended up being very nice older gentlemen. One of the witnesses fell asleep in the middle of the ceremony.)



Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Both the eloping and the marriage. Eloping was easy as pie. There was no pressure, and either one of us could have backed out at any time if it's something we had any doubts about. I think sometimes people have real reservations about getting married, but they go through with it because by then, so much has been planned and they'd be afraid of letting too many people down. We got married because we wanted to, plain and simple. There were no big elaborate receptions to plan. No crazy wedding breakfasts and who sits where. No big expenses. (Denisa bought her dress at the BYU Bookstore. She got a good discount as an employee. She made her veil.)



Of course, as a parent, I can see how disappointing it could be to have your child have such a momentous occasion that you can't be there for, but in the end, marriage is something that should be all about the husband and wife--no one else. I really liked being able to focus on that that day, and not having to worry about what anyone else was thinking or doing or where I had to be.



And as for the marriage, it was flat out the best decision I've ever made in my life. I was terrified of marriage, ahead of time. My parents divorced when I was about 6, and I was so worried I'd end up doing the same. I really didn't want to put my kids and myself through that. I had a girl in mind who I thought would be perfect. We were great friends, and had been for years. But I wanted to be sure I was making the right decision. Being the goal-oriented lad that I am, I set a goal to date 30 girls in one semester. I got to 16, and things were going fine. Each girl was nice, but in the end I didn't see any reason to change me from my course. Then came 17.



I asked Denisa on a date mainly because my main date had fallen through. We went on a double date with my sister and a guy I set her up with. That date was so different than any of the others I'd been on. Before it, I was mainly just happy to be bragging that I was going on a date with a girl from a foreign country. After it, I couldn't get her out of my head. I remember getting home at 2 in the morning (my car had gotten a flat on the way home--fun) and talking to my roommate Juan for about another 2 hours. All my certainty about who I wanted to marry had flown out the window in the space of a few hours.



The only thing I can compare it to is fishing. (Romantic, I know.) When you've been fishing for a while, you start imagining there might be a fish on the end of your line, mainly because you're bored and you want there to be one. So you reel it in, only to discover you've got nothing. But when an actual real live fish is there, it's jerking and tugging and moving all over the place. There is no doubt.



I had a real live fish.



Less than two months later, I proposed. I'd always sworn that would never be me. I wouldn't be the guy proposing to a girl he'd known less than a few months. (Denisa and I met at the beginning of the semester, in our German Phonetics class. Our first date was November 4.) No--I would have to know the girl for at least a year, preferably more. How else could I be certain I was making the right choice? But all that flew out the window. When you've got a real live fish hooked, you reel now--not a year from now.



I didn't propose by getting down on my knee and having a ring or anything. No--we were just sitting, talking, and I looked at her and suddenly found myself blurting out, "I think I'm going to marry you." After that, it was just an assumption on both our parts.



Anyway. I wasn't planning on writing a novel today. We're going tree shopping and then on a date this evening. But Denisa had to bake some bread, and so I had a bit of time and figured this would be interesting for you all to read. Hopefully I was right. I'll just add this: When I look back on these 10 years, it's crazy insane. I can't believe how much we've done together. I can't believe how much fun I've had. Sure, there have been difficult times, but those times were made that much easier by being married to the best friend I've ever had. We still do practically everything together, and I hope that never changes.



Thanks for 10 wonderful years, Denisa. [Insert more mushy gushing here. I try to avoid public mushy gushing when possible. I make exceptions every 5 or 10 years or so.]



For more photos, check out my Facebook album.