Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 158

With Great Thanks and Appreciation

Christmas is less than 50 days away. Thanksgiving, I can tell you exactly, is 21 days away. Spring is many, many days away.
But let’s look backward for a bit. To 2008, and you know what happened about this time of year, if you read my blog post a few days ago. So, if I were to thank anyone at all for my latest book being written and published, it would have to be my kids, Nick and Val. I am as proud of them as any mother could possibly be. How they turned out as good as they did when I think of what I put them through when they were at such tender ages. They are both amazing adults now and I take no credit.
Move forward to the spring of 2010. I still have to thank my co-worker and neighbor, Ron, for talking me into going to a writer’s conference, which inspired me to go to my first Green Lake Christian Writers Conference. You may recall how I can trace the roots of my first book to that conference, but what about my second book.
At that first writers conference, I met an author by the name of Marshall Cook. He has written many mystery novels as well as “How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child”, which I won in a contest during the talk he gave. In addition to that inspiring talk, he offered personal critique sessions. Because this was my first conference, I was too green to think I could send in my work to be critiqued and then actually meet with an actual writer to discuss it. The first day, though, when it was announced that Mr. Cook still had appointment times available, I decided, why not? And signed up.
The material I shared with Mr. Cook was the very rough draft of “The Christmas Story in 40 Days”. He made some helpful suggestions, but overall thought that the concept was great and that I should be able to find a suitable publisher.
Flash forward three years and seven rejections.
Jeremiah Zieset, with Life Sentence Publisher – my publisher – was getting on the elevator to head home. I never take the elevator – I am claustrophobic and a control-freak. I can’t tolerate the speed of a mechanical device dictating how long it will take to go from one floor to another. The voice in my head told me that I better just get on the elevator anyway.
He asked if I had any other books in the works which they could publish for me. I gave him the “elevator speech”. As we stepped off at our floor, he said he would love to read the book. We talked some more and I promised I would email the manuscript in the next few days. You know what happened after that. I can’t thank Jeremiah enough for once again having so much faith in me and my random words.
Then there are all the people on his team, people I have yet to meet. Amber Burger who once again came up with an outstanding cover design. Laura L. Paulson who edited the first draft and caught all of my amateur writing mistakes. Sheila Wilkinson, who edited my first book, did the final proofread on this one. She continues to be one my most dedicated Facebook supporters.
And final the greatest thanks of all goes to the technical person who put my pictures, words and some music I downloaded off the internet into this beautiful video of my first book. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TEuaoViua8

I thank you all for letting me accomplish my dreams. And praise God for standing by us all.

Where do the ideas come from? Part 2

Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
This verse is reportedly the shortest verse in the Bible. Some versions of the Bible add a few words, but basically these two words are the gist of it. But how much power do these two words have. Why would Jesus weep? Was He in physical pain? Was He in emotional pain? Why would Jesus, the Son of God, be in any sort of pain? And he wasn’t just crying; he was weeping. Do you think there is a different between crying and weeping? What is that difference? What does it take to make you cry or weep? See what thoughts two simple little words can conjure up?
Many, many years ago several co-workers and their pastor started a Bible study group at my clinic. I became one of the inaugural members. We have studied several books of the Bible over the years. We kid each other about how long it takes us to get through some of the chapters. Some Tuesday mornings we might spend our entire one hour session on a single verse. Or even on a single word.
To me, that doesn’t mean we are a group of nit-pickers, obsessing over tiny little details. It means that the Bible has that much power that each word in it was chosen for a specific reason. Nothing in the Bible is random. (People who teach writing will tell you that each word you write needs to have significance; maybe more writers should study the Bible.)
When I started writing “The Christmas Story in 40 Days” a lot of those same thoughts came into my head. Not so much about my writing, but more about my reading.
How many times do we skim through chapters of the Bible thinking they are just background information or even filler? Do we ever think that instead of reading the whole Bible, we should just read the “important” parts? Thanks to my Tuesday morning Bible study, I decided that each and every word in the Bible is equally important. That is why I went through each and every verse in the first chapter of Luke to flesh out the entire story of the first Christmas. Not just Joseph and Mary, not just the angels and the manger, and certainly not the inn and the innkeeper (neither of which are in the book).
To me, most of the Bible stories are intricate stories woven in the rich fabric of the lives of the people of the time. Nothing in the Bible happened by coincidence; it was all part of God’s wonderful plan for us.

And so, “The Christmas Story in 40 Days” evolved. If you missed the previous post, go back and read it to see how the book really got its start.

Where do the ideas come from? Part 1

One question which writers frequently hear is, “where do you get your ideas from?” Even though I just published my second book, I don’t feel like a writer much of the time, but people still ask me this question. My answer runs something like, “I wish I could stop the ideas”. I lay awake at night with ideas running through my head; I wake up in the middle of the night with a dream which would make a great story. I meet people every day who I can picture running the show in one of my stories. With all these ideas for fictional stories, I have yet to publish any fiction. Hmm? What is up with that?
But back to the “where do your ideas come from” question.
“The Christmas Story in 40 Days” has just been released. It is a devotional which follows the first Christmas, from an angel telling Zachariah that he would have a son, to an angel telling Joseph that he too would have a son, to both those sons being born. It is not a book about the kings or the camels or a star. The donkey only makes a questionable appearance. This isn’t your typical Christmas story. So where did the idea for it come from?
Two places, and I’ll share one of those places this time and the other one on my next blog post.
In the fall of 2008, for the only time ever, both of my kids were away at college. As any Christian mother would be, I was worried about their spiritual journey. I wanted to mail them each a book which they might actually read, something short and easy to read, something that would strengthen their faith journey. It was mid-November, so I thought that a book about the first Christmas would be ideal. I looked on-line for several days for such a book, but didn’t find anything which fit my wish list.
I looked at the calendar. It was 41 days until Christmas. I opened my Bible to the book of Luke, to the story of the first Christmas. I sighed. You can do this, a voice came into my head. Ok, I will.
I counted out 40 passages leading up to that holiest of nights. The next night I sent out an email of Luke 1:1-4 along with my thoughts on those four verses. I kept it up until Christmas Eve, emailing my verses to my two kids and a few friends.
Can someone really write up to 200 words about only a few Bible verses? You’ll have to check back on Sunday for my post which answers that question.

Pumpkin Cookie Paradise

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I don’t cook. I occasionally bake, and since dessert is the best meal of the day, you wouldn’t think this chocoholic would mess up goodies. Guess again. I do have one specialty, though, one cookie which the hubby asks for year round and I have to tell him he needs to wait until fall.
I was working in the lab years ago when a co-worker brought in the most wonderful cookies. I begged her for the recipe. The next year when I brought in the same cookies, this co-worker asked me for the recipe. I was stumped. Isn’t this your recipe? Nope, she denied it. So I really don’t know where this came from. I have to tell you though that the key is real pumpkin, not the stuff from a can. So here we go. This is how I spent my weekend. 
Cut open a pumpkin, cut it in a few pieces, clean out all the seeds and gunk. Bake it in a 350 degree oven until it feels soft when you poke it with a fork. I have no idea how long that is – always longer than I plan for. I also did two pumpkins, two different varieties. 

When the baked pumpkin is cooled, cut off the dried edges and cut the good stuff into pieces which your food processor can handle. I really did not take enough pictures of this messy process. These are times when it would be nice if the hubby would take pictures for me.
Then you have to take a break and get some sleep. I told you this is a process, by which I meant a two-day process.
Ok, the cookies.
I mix the dry ingredients first – in a huge bowl.                 4 cups four, sometimes if the pumpkin is really juicy, I add another cup of flour                2 cups rolled oats                1 tsp salt                2 tsp baking soda                2 tsp cinnamon
Mix the moist ingredients and blend well.                1 ½ cups margarine, softened                2 cups brown sugar                1 cup white sugar                1 egg                1 tsp vanilla                2 cups pumpkin

Dump the moist ingredients into the dry ingredients. Add one to two cups of chocolate chips.
Drop the dough onto greased cookie sheets – they must be greased and you have to grease them if you reuse them. I also use one of those cookie scoops, it is way easier than using two spoons to make the cookies.  Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. This makes a huge batch – I got just shy of seven dozen today – and because they take so long to bake, plan on spending the day in the kitchen. But it is so worth it! These freeze great also. And freeze the remaining pureed pumpkin in freezer baggies or containers, measuring out two cups in each, so that they are ready to go for the next batch of cookies. 

What's in a Name?

For unto us a Child is born,Unto us a Son is given;And the government will be upon His shoulder.And His name will be calledWonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.(Isaiah 9:6 New King James Version )  When I was a kid, dreaming of someday being a writer, I knew I always wanted to write under my maiden name. At the time, I think that I mostly never imagined getting married and changing my name in the first place. After getting married twice and changing my name twice, more than ever, I wanted to recognize my maiden name. But not for myself.
My dad, Paul Loehmer, was the smartest person I ever knew. He dropped out of school after the eighth grade  to work to support his family. But he read everything he could get his hands on. He self-taught himself anything he wanted to know. His most amazing gift was that he could pick up almost any musical instrument and play any tune on it by ear. That is certainly a gift I didn’t inherit.
My sister, Patricia Loehmer, was the second smartest person I knew. She too read everything she could find. She’d inhale books like the rest of us inhale the air around us. On top of her massive intelligence, she was stubborn. Maybe a more positive synonym to use is tenacious. If she was given any task to do, she would work day and night until it was finished and done to perfection.  
And so everything I write is in tribute to these two people. But I would be remiss if I didn’t also pay tribute to the one on this planet, in this present life, who supports me the most. That would be the hubby, Mr. Kincaid,  Ricky to my Lucille Ball. My other half, my better half.
I would’ve stuck with my given first name, Christine, but I thought my handle was becoming long enough the way it is. And so I write as Chris Loehmer Kincaid.

The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”Luke 2:10-12 The Message Bible
The shepherds had been told about a baby born in Bethlehem and the angel was there to convince these men to go visit the infant. The angel told them several of the names that the baby would one day be called. In Isaiah 9:6, there is an even longer list of names: Wonderful Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Throughout Scripture, Jesus has even more titles – the Anointed One, Redeemer, Emmanuel.
Why so many names for one person? Well, why not? There are not enough superlatives to describe Jesus. There is not just one name that expresses who He is. He is the One.
Do you have a nickname? Does your spouse call you "sweetheart,” or "honey,” or some other affectionate name? Did your mom call you by your full name when you were in trouble? The name we were given at birth is important, but sometimes the names that we go by matter just as much.

From The Christmas Story in 40 Days, out by mid-November. Currently available for pre-order from the publisher, Life Sentence Publishing. 

Another two for one

That time of the month has rolled around again where I should write a book review. I don’t think I will ever get the hang of this. I sit here staring at the book I finished reading last week, and even though I liked it, I can’t think of a thing to say. So I turn my attention to the book I finished reading just before that one and still my mind is a blank. Some things I guess a person simply does not have a gift for doing. Give me two yards of fabric and I can cut it into pieces and sew you a scrub top. Give me a book, I can read it, but that’s all I can do with it. Seems a waste. I should be able to finish the job by writing a review of it. I will try this again.
In the last two weeks I finished reading “A Beggars Purse” by Toni Nelson and “TheSecret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister”. Both are memoirs, both set in very different times and very different places, yet their messages fall upon the same path.  

Toni Nelson wrote about her life as a child, befriending hobos who would come to her grandmother’s house in search of a meal. As an adult, it wasn’t as easy for her to accept the homeless, but with time and the Lord’s guidance, she did, offering a meal to anyone who asked.
Nonna Bannister’s childhood was filled with relatives gathering for meals, but those happy times would soon end as Nazi Germany began pushing into her world. Some days she would be the one looking for a meal from anyone who had anything to offer.  

Both books remind me of the good and the bad sides of people. We are capable of causing great suffering, but we are equally able to share all that we have, our food, our shelters, our compassion. Our stories. I believe the authors of both of these books would want us to cultivate our good sides, would want us to learn from the mistakes of others, would want us to help any brother or sister in need. 
In the words of Anne Frank, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are good at heart.”

"Every time a bell rings . . . "

Our Father who art in heaven,hallowed be thy name.Thy kingdom come.Thy will be doneon earth as it is in heaven.Give us this day our daily bread,and forgive us our trespasses,as we forgive those who trespass against us,and lead us not into temptation,but deliver us from evil.For thine is the kingdom,and the power, and the glory,for ever and ever. Amen.

My husband has been an usher at our church for many years. Most of the time, I get roped into helping out, which is ok. And if anyone reading this belongs to our church, he gets credit for making up the usher schedule, but I am the one who actually does it.
We have a lot of traditions in our church, as most congregations do, and one of those traditions is that one of the ushers rings the bell three times during the Lord’s Prayer, after the first “heaven”, the second “heaven” and “evil”. My husband asked a while back why we do that. I didn’t know the answer (there are more things I don’t know about church practices than things I do know).
I finally got around to looking it up on line. I thought it had something to do with those particular words, or maybe someone wanted the bell rang three times in remembrance of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and they just randomly chose those particular three words. My husband thought it was something to do with life, death and resurrection.
According to the internet, it is nothing that deep. The bell is rung for the benefit of those outside and not inside. Back in the day, not everyone could make it to church; they had a valid excuse, unlike people of today. Workers in the field or servants who had to stay home to make the meal while the masters were in church would hear the bell ring as a signal to begin the Lord’s Prayer. The second ringing would let them know where they should be in the Prayer and the third ringing would indicate they should be finished praying.
Most churches had at least two bells. The larger and louder one tolled at the start of the service to call parishioners to worship. The smaller bell was called the “Pater”, after the Latin name of the Lord’s Prayer, Pater Noster or Our Father.
The German in me likes the other name this bell was often given, the Kartoffelglock, or potato bell. When the servants working at home heard the bell it was their signal that the church service was almost over. Which meant that if dinner was to be on the table when their masters got home, it was time to put the potatoes on to boil.

I don’t know if any of this information is going to inspire you today. If nothing else, whenever you hear a bell ring, instead of just repeating “every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings”, maybe you will say a prayer as well. 
One of the many churches I saw in Ayacucho, Peru. Which bell was the Kartoffelglock? Or would it be cuy campana? 

Fall Vacation - Final Day

Last spring when we were trying to figure out where to go on our vacation in September, we first threw around going to either Washington DC or the Black Hills of South Dakota. We opted for Southeast Wisconsin because we decided we were far enough in debt and didn’t need to go on a long expensive vacation. I know, as if South Dakota is expensive. (Washington is.)
Events did turn out in our favor. South Dakota was hit by a massive and unseasonable blizzard about the time we would have been leaving there to head home. And Washington DC? Since they shut down the federal government about that same time, perhaps that trip would have been filled with peril as well. But even my little home state was hit that week.

Our last day of our fall vacation, we decided to head home via Horicon Marsh. We didn’t hit impressive flocks of geese or breathtaking autumn foliage, but it was awesome just the same.  Did you know that only one-third of Horicon Marsh is run by the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources? The rest of the wildlife area? Run by the feds. I know. We had just gotten home when we saw the news on the internet that the majority of this Wisconsin treasure had been shut down due to the federal government shutdown. But I won’t get started on politics. Here are the pictures. 




(Note the American Flag in the background. I'm just pointing it out.)

Fall Vacation Continued

I hate to do this to you two Sundays in a row, but I once again am going to astound you with my lack of knowledge regarding the Catholic faith. Please bear with me; isn’t all of life a learning process. Earlier I was sharing stories from our fall vacation in September. On Tuesday of that week, when we checked out of the hotel and started driving, we weren’t sure where we were headed. I told the Hubby that, as usual, I had it covered. With an old Wisconsin Gazetteer, my decent sense of direction and a vague idea, I directed him to the Basilica of the National Shrine of Mary Help of Christians at Holy Hill. Goodness, now that is a handle. I think that in general it is called simply Holy Hill. Ok, so I researched some on the internet. The Hubby called this place a monastery, but I don’t know what qualifies a place to be a monastery. I thought it had to have monks, but this place doesn’t have them. It has friars. Not being Catholic, I don’t know the difference. In fact, to add to my confusion, these guys aren’t only friars, they are Carmelites, members of the secular order of discalced Carmelites. Now, that piqued my interest until I discovered that a Carmelite has nothing to do with caramels. They are brothers of Mount Carmel, again which I think you have to be Catholic to understand. They show their devotion to Mary by wearing a scapular. Ok, I think I’m done with that, I’ll remain a Lutheran, but I do think it is interesting. Oh, and one other thing - these guys can be married. Whoever it is that lives and works here, they let you climb to the top of one of the bell towers. I did climb all of the 178 stairs, clinging to the railing like a baby. But this acrophobic did it, I climbed to the top. And it was worth it. What an awesome view!
As we were leaving, a young mother with her two young children were heading towards the sanctuary. The mother said to the little girl, “How can God be three persons in one? Well, your daddy is not just your daddy, but he is my husband and he is your grandma’s son, so he is three different people.” Well, that made it seem pretty simple.

"Go, then, to all peoples everywhere and make them my disciples: baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and teach them to obey everything I have commanded you. And I will be with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:19-20, Good News Translation

I Want Food!

This is another post on behalf of the Personal Photo Challenge. When they posted back in September that this month's challenge was pictures of food, I once again said to myself, "I got this one". I had hoped to take some new pictures of food, but I just do not know where the month went. Luckily, it seems that I have always been drawn to taking pictures of the things I ingest. What could that possibly tell you about me?

We must always start with dessert. What a sad world it would be if we were too full after the main course to enjoy the decadent pleasures of chocolate. This picture was taken in 2011 at the Green Lake Christian Writers Conference. Yes, we are always spoiled with good eats!

The cuisine that I have enjoyed in Kenya hasn't been that much different from home. Random meat and vegetables in some sort of gravy or broth, served with potatoes, rice or pasta. While in Kenya this May, however, our host took us to the Ethiopian restaurant my last night there. Ethiopian food was not at all what I expected (are you thinking bread and water too?). The main dish to order is injera, which looks like a white and airy pancake, but doesn't taste like much of anything. You break off pieces of it to use to scoop up the rest of your food.
What is the point of food, if not to eat it? Joe, one of the Kenyans who worked with us, was skeptical about this dish. After trying one bite, he declared that he now knew why Ethiopians were so skinny, and I don't think he ate anymore.
While in Ayacucho, Peru, in 2009, we were served one of the their most popular dishes, cuy. I was there with three other Americans, and one of these women couldn't bring herself to try it. The other two ate it with reservation, claiming it tasted "gamey". Sorry, ladies, you hadn't grown up in the Northwoods, and have never eaten genuine wild game so you don't know what you were talking about.

I thought the cuy tasted just fine, a bit like Cornish game hen. You can look it up on line or on a previous blog post.
My last night in Peru we also went out to eat. We were in Lima waiting for our flight home and stopped at the mall in Miraflores and had dinner at Mangos restaurant. I had a wonderful dish with chicken and greens. I can't take credit for this picture; one of my traveling partners took it for me. But like I already said, what's the point of food if not to eat it.