Virginia Hull Welch's Blog: BooksontheBeach, page 4
May 28, 2014
Worse than Dogs
Do a google search on “inhumane air travel” or any combination of those words, and you will find a glut of articles about the dangers your pet faces in the cargo hold. But missing from those hits will be any language devoted to the misery of actual humans who are transported, cramped and suffering, in the cabin space above.
Here’s what (U.S.) federal regulations say about humane air transport of animals, specifically the pet carriers used to house them en route:
“Carriers must be big enough to allow the animal to stand, turn around and lie down comfortably (other sites say naturally). If the pet carrier does not allow the animal to do this, the airline will refuse transport.” (http://www.bringfido.com/travel/us_re...)
Why is it that we’re discussing pet welfare all over the Internet but we silently tolerate such miserable travel conditions for humans? Climb aboard any airplane in America and you will do nothing naturally and, without exception, neither will you do it comfortably. Your knees are smacked against the seat in front of you. Your head is smacked against the overhead bins. Your hips are squished. You can’t stand up naturally, in fact you can’t stand up at all without elbowing and crawling over your seat mate (or two). You can’t get to the toilet because the beverage cart is blocking it; let us hope you aren’t desperate to get there fast. The aisle is too narrow for two people to pass each other—and that’s when things are calm and you don’t have to scramble to the exit during an emergency. How do you change an infant’s diaper on an airplane? The days of having an empty seat next to you are long gone. Isn’t this a hygiene issue? They slap a hefty fee on your checked baggage (no other means of human transport commonly does this) but don’t provide adequate overhead space for the very predictable uptick in carry-ons. Good gracious, is there any method of long distance, private/public transport in this country that is allowed to book more passengers than it has room for the one or two hand-carried or hand-pulled items each person reasonably brings with them?
Miserable. Intolerable. Inhumane. And that’s just the assault on your person by TSA while you’re still on the ground.
I won’t bore you with the irksome details of my recent trip to Wisconsin for a family wedding. Let’s just say that until the American airline industry changes its ways and begins to see the inhumanity of its attitude toward the flying public—it is NOT acceptable to treat people this way—I won’t be flying again anytime soon.
Here’s what (U.S.) federal regulations say about humane air transport of animals, specifically the pet carriers used to house them en route:
“Carriers must be big enough to allow the animal to stand, turn around and lie down comfortably (other sites say naturally). If the pet carrier does not allow the animal to do this, the airline will refuse transport.” (http://www.bringfido.com/travel/us_re...)
Why is it that we’re discussing pet welfare all over the Internet but we silently tolerate such miserable travel conditions for humans? Climb aboard any airplane in America and you will do nothing naturally and, without exception, neither will you do it comfortably. Your knees are smacked against the seat in front of you. Your head is smacked against the overhead bins. Your hips are squished. You can’t stand up naturally, in fact you can’t stand up at all without elbowing and crawling over your seat mate (or two). You can’t get to the toilet because the beverage cart is blocking it; let us hope you aren’t desperate to get there fast. The aisle is too narrow for two people to pass each other—and that’s when things are calm and you don’t have to scramble to the exit during an emergency. How do you change an infant’s diaper on an airplane? The days of having an empty seat next to you are long gone. Isn’t this a hygiene issue? They slap a hefty fee on your checked baggage (no other means of human transport commonly does this) but don’t provide adequate overhead space for the very predictable uptick in carry-ons. Good gracious, is there any method of long distance, private/public transport in this country that is allowed to book more passengers than it has room for the one or two hand-carried or hand-pulled items each person reasonably brings with them?
Miserable. Intolerable. Inhumane. And that’s just the assault on your person by TSA while you’re still on the ground.
I won’t bore you with the irksome details of my recent trip to Wisconsin for a family wedding. Let’s just say that until the American airline industry changes its ways and begins to see the inhumanity of its attitude toward the flying public—it is NOT acceptable to treat people this way—I won’t be flying again anytime soon.
May 12, 2014
When it's not all about family
A man I know, father of three, spent Mother’s Day shuttling his teenage son to a mandatory sports tryout for fall sports. That was his morning. He spent the afternoon watching this same son’s spring soccer game, also mandatory if the boy wants to stay on the team. Mom took the backseat in all this—as moms and dads do every day because sports take up seven out of seven days in this and nearly all sports families’ schedules. But on Mother’s or Father’s days parents are forced to make the bigger sacrifice: they must choose between their one designated day of honor and their children’s recreational pursuits.
In the world of children’s sports, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are both just another day.
I remember facing this dilemma more than a decade ago when my elementary school age son played baseball. Mandatory games were scheduled for Mother’s and Father’s days. My husband and I had to choose between encouraging our son to be faithful to his team or teaching him the importance of honoring his parents.
This family boycotted both games.
How do we teach our children values? Suze Orman, the money guru, relates a telling anecdote about how she learned the importance of money as a child when her family home was on fire. Her father ran into the burning building despite the danger to retrieve the cash he had tucked away. Suze claims she learned that day that money was more valuable than anything.
But that’s not a new revelation. Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21. What we devote our time, money, and energy to is revealing. It tells the world what we love—a message even a child can grasp without a word.
We talk about the importance of family. Talk, talk, talk. Family values. Family time. It’s all about family. But we can’t give Mom (or Dad) one dedicated day out of 365.
Want to know what people really value? Read their checkbook. Peruse their calendar. Actions speak louder than words. And your children are listening.
In the world of children’s sports, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are both just another day.
I remember facing this dilemma more than a decade ago when my elementary school age son played baseball. Mandatory games were scheduled for Mother’s and Father’s days. My husband and I had to choose between encouraging our son to be faithful to his team or teaching him the importance of honoring his parents.
This family boycotted both games.
How do we teach our children values? Suze Orman, the money guru, relates a telling anecdote about how she learned the importance of money as a child when her family home was on fire. Her father ran into the burning building despite the danger to retrieve the cash he had tucked away. Suze claims she learned that day that money was more valuable than anything.
But that’s not a new revelation. Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21. What we devote our time, money, and energy to is revealing. It tells the world what we love—a message even a child can grasp without a word.
We talk about the importance of family. Talk, talk, talk. Family values. Family time. It’s all about family. But we can’t give Mom (or Dad) one dedicated day out of 365.
Want to know what people really value? Read their checkbook. Peruse their calendar. Actions speak louder than words. And your children are listening.
March 26, 2014
I can't say it any better
I can't say it any better, so I'll let Kay Warren of Saddleback Church, Lake Forest, Calif. explain why I'm not who I used to be and never will be again. Her son, Matthew (27) died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound 7 weeks after my 18-yr-old son died in a car accident. Kay and I will never be the same--no going back.
So how do you speak to people a year after they have lost a part of themselves? From Kay's March 13, 2014 Facebook page:
--------------------------------
As the one-year anniversary of Matthew's death approaches, I have been shocked by some subtle and not-so-subtle comments indicating that perhaps I should be ready to "move on." The soft, compassionate cocoon that has enveloped us for the last 11 1/2 months had lulled me into believing others would be patient with us on our grief journey, and while I’m sure many will read this and quickly say “Take all the time you need,” I’m increasingly aware that the cocoon may be in the process of collapsing. It’s understandable when you take a step back. I mean, life goes on. The thousands who supported us in the aftermath of Matthew’s suicide wept and mourned with us, prayed passionately for us, and sent an unbelievable volume of cards, letters, emails, texts, phone calls, and gifts. The support was utterly amazing. But for most, life never stopped – their world didn’t grind to a horrific, catastrophic halt on April 5, 2013. In fact, their lives have kept moving steadily forward with tasks, routines, work, kids, leisure, plans, dreams, goals etc. LIFE GOES ON. And some of them are ready for us to go on too. They want the old Rick and Kay back. They secretly wonder when things will get back to normal for us – when we’ll be ourselves, when the tragedy of April 5, 2013 will cease to be the grid that we pass everything across. And I have to tell you – the old Rick and Kay are gone. They’re never coming back. We will never be the same again. There is a new “normal.” April 5, 2013 has permanently marked us. It will remain the grid we pass everything across for an indeterminate amount of time….maybe forever.
Because these comments from well-meaning folks wounded me so deeply, I doubted myself and thought perhaps I really am not grieving “well” (whatever that means). I wondered if I was being overly sensitive –so I checked with parents who have lost children to see if my experience was unique. Far from it, I discovered. “At least you can have another child” one mother was told shortly after her child’s death. “You’re doing better, right?” I was asked recently. “When are you coming back to the stage at Saddleback? We need you” someone cluelessly said to me recently. “People can be so rude and insensitive; they make the most thoughtless comments,” one grieving father said. You know, it wasn’t all that long ago that it was standard in our culture for people to officially be in mourning for a full year. They wore black. They didn’t go to parties. They didn’t smile a whole lot. And everybody accepted their period of mourning; no one ridiculed a mother in black or asked her stupid questions about why she was STILL so sad. Obviously, this is no longer accepted practice; mourners are encouraged to quickly move on, turn the corner, get back to work, think of the positive, be grateful for what is left, have another baby, and other unkind, unfeeling, obtuse and downright cruel comments. What does this say about us - other than we’re terribly uncomfortable with death, with grief, with mourning, with loss – or we’re so self-absorbed that we easily forget the profound suffering the loss of a child creates in the shattered parents and remaining children.
Unless you’ve stood by the grave of your child or cradled the urn that holds their ashes, you’re better off keeping your words to some very simple phrases: “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Or “I’m praying for you and your family.” Do your best to avoid the meaningless, catch-all phrase “How are you doing?” This question is almost impossible to answer. If you’re a stranger, it’s none of your business. If you’re a casual acquaintance, it’s excruciating to try to answer honestly, and you leave the sufferer unsure whether to lie to you (I’m ok) to end the conversation or if they should try to haltingly tell you that their right arm was cut off and they don’t know how to go on without it. If you’re a close friend, try telling them instead, “You don’t have to say anything at all; I’m with you in this.”
None of us wants to be like Job’s friends – the pseudo comforters who drove him mad with their questions, their wrong conclusions and their assumptions about his grief. But too often we end up a 21st century Bildad, Eliphaz or Zophar – we fill the uncomfortable silence with words that wound rather than heal. I’m sad to realize that even now – in the middle of my own shattering loss – I can be callous with the grief of another and rush through the conversation without really listening, blithely spouting the platitudes I hate when offered to me. We’re not good grievers, and when I judge you, I judge myself as well.
Here’s my plea: Please don’t ever tell someone to be grateful for what they have left until they’ve had a chance to mourn what they’ve lost. It will take longer than you think is reasonable, rational or even right. But that’s ok. True friends – unlike Job’s sorry excuse for friends – love at all times, and brothers and sisters are born to help in time of need (Prov. 17:17 LB).The truest friends and “helpers” are those who wait for the griever to emerge from the darkness that swallowed them alive without growing afraid, anxious or impatient. They don’t pressure their friend to be the old familiar person they’re used to; they’re willing to accept that things are different, embrace the now-scarred one they love, and are confident that their compassionate, non-demanding presence is the surest expression of God’s mercy to their suffering friend. They’re ok with messy and slow and few answers….and they never say “Move on.”
So how do you speak to people a year after they have lost a part of themselves? From Kay's March 13, 2014 Facebook page:
--------------------------------
As the one-year anniversary of Matthew's death approaches, I have been shocked by some subtle and not-so-subtle comments indicating that perhaps I should be ready to "move on." The soft, compassionate cocoon that has enveloped us for the last 11 1/2 months had lulled me into believing others would be patient with us on our grief journey, and while I’m sure many will read this and quickly say “Take all the time you need,” I’m increasingly aware that the cocoon may be in the process of collapsing. It’s understandable when you take a step back. I mean, life goes on. The thousands who supported us in the aftermath of Matthew’s suicide wept and mourned with us, prayed passionately for us, and sent an unbelievable volume of cards, letters, emails, texts, phone calls, and gifts. The support was utterly amazing. But for most, life never stopped – their world didn’t grind to a horrific, catastrophic halt on April 5, 2013. In fact, their lives have kept moving steadily forward with tasks, routines, work, kids, leisure, plans, dreams, goals etc. LIFE GOES ON. And some of them are ready for us to go on too. They want the old Rick and Kay back. They secretly wonder when things will get back to normal for us – when we’ll be ourselves, when the tragedy of April 5, 2013 will cease to be the grid that we pass everything across. And I have to tell you – the old Rick and Kay are gone. They’re never coming back. We will never be the same again. There is a new “normal.” April 5, 2013 has permanently marked us. It will remain the grid we pass everything across for an indeterminate amount of time….maybe forever.
Because these comments from well-meaning folks wounded me so deeply, I doubted myself and thought perhaps I really am not grieving “well” (whatever that means). I wondered if I was being overly sensitive –so I checked with parents who have lost children to see if my experience was unique. Far from it, I discovered. “At least you can have another child” one mother was told shortly after her child’s death. “You’re doing better, right?” I was asked recently. “When are you coming back to the stage at Saddleback? We need you” someone cluelessly said to me recently. “People can be so rude and insensitive; they make the most thoughtless comments,” one grieving father said. You know, it wasn’t all that long ago that it was standard in our culture for people to officially be in mourning for a full year. They wore black. They didn’t go to parties. They didn’t smile a whole lot. And everybody accepted their period of mourning; no one ridiculed a mother in black or asked her stupid questions about why she was STILL so sad. Obviously, this is no longer accepted practice; mourners are encouraged to quickly move on, turn the corner, get back to work, think of the positive, be grateful for what is left, have another baby, and other unkind, unfeeling, obtuse and downright cruel comments. What does this say about us - other than we’re terribly uncomfortable with death, with grief, with mourning, with loss – or we’re so self-absorbed that we easily forget the profound suffering the loss of a child creates in the shattered parents and remaining children.
Unless you’ve stood by the grave of your child or cradled the urn that holds their ashes, you’re better off keeping your words to some very simple phrases: “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Or “I’m praying for you and your family.” Do your best to avoid the meaningless, catch-all phrase “How are you doing?” This question is almost impossible to answer. If you’re a stranger, it’s none of your business. If you’re a casual acquaintance, it’s excruciating to try to answer honestly, and you leave the sufferer unsure whether to lie to you (I’m ok) to end the conversation or if they should try to haltingly tell you that their right arm was cut off and they don’t know how to go on without it. If you’re a close friend, try telling them instead, “You don’t have to say anything at all; I’m with you in this.”
None of us wants to be like Job’s friends – the pseudo comforters who drove him mad with their questions, their wrong conclusions and their assumptions about his grief. But too often we end up a 21st century Bildad, Eliphaz or Zophar – we fill the uncomfortable silence with words that wound rather than heal. I’m sad to realize that even now – in the middle of my own shattering loss – I can be callous with the grief of another and rush through the conversation without really listening, blithely spouting the platitudes I hate when offered to me. We’re not good grievers, and when I judge you, I judge myself as well.
Here’s my plea: Please don’t ever tell someone to be grateful for what they have left until they’ve had a chance to mourn what they’ve lost. It will take longer than you think is reasonable, rational or even right. But that’s ok. True friends – unlike Job’s sorry excuse for friends – love at all times, and brothers and sisters are born to help in time of need (Prov. 17:17 LB).The truest friends and “helpers” are those who wait for the griever to emerge from the darkness that swallowed them alive without growing afraid, anxious or impatient. They don’t pressure their friend to be the old familiar person they’re used to; they’re willing to accept that things are different, embrace the now-scarred one they love, and are confident that their compassionate, non-demanding presence is the surest expression of God’s mercy to their suffering friend. They’re ok with messy and slow and few answers….and they never say “Move on.”
March 14, 2014
Trailer to Trailer - Enough Is Enough
Thank you Will Davis, Jr.
I want to live in a trailer. Actually, I used to live in a trailer, in my 20s, with my husband, a 2-yr-old, and baby #2 on the way. A 22-ft RV built in the 1960s. That was nearly 40 years ago. I felt poor then. I’m rich now by the world’s standards, yet I’m seriously thinking of selling my 4,100 sf home and treed, 1-acre lot with the big, in-ground pool to move back … to a trailer.
Will Davis, author of Enough: Finding More by Living with Less, helped me clarify my thinking about my trailer days. No, he doesn’t recommend you sell everything you have to move into a trailer. But his wise assessment of what is enough, what you require to be happy, and especially, the reason God gives us more than enough, has served as a catalyst to act on something that has been brewing inside of me for about 2 years. I love my stuff. I’m sure you love your stuff, too. But what is the purpose of stuff? How much stuff do you need to be happy? How do you know when you have enough stuff? Isn’t that a very personal assessment? Yes, it is always up to you to decide how much stuff you keep and how much you give away; God isn’t out to rob you of the good things you’ve worked so hard to acquire. But Will Davis illuminates a number of scriptures that, for the thoughtful Christian, provide guidance on keeping and giving away your stuff, your relationship to God, and most of all, your relationship to the poor and unsaved.
Unique to this book: Will Davis doesn't make you feel guilty for working hard to acquire stuff as do so many other "own less, live more" books. He doesn’t discourage saving money in the bank. He doesn’t make a pitch at the end of his book for you to send a donation to his church or any ministry he supports.
His writing style: Strong, entertaining, clear writing is high on my list; you will find it in this book. I’m a writer myself, so I tend to be more critical than most of weak writing, poor editing, excess verbiage, lousy grammar, etc. I found none of that in Will Davis’ book. It was a pleasure to read. Deep ideas, joyful revelations, illustrative anecdotes about real people—all delivered in simple prose.
P.S. – I do not know Will Davis, Jr. I’m not a member of his church. I had never heard of him until I saw his free book featured on BookBub. Since downloading a free Kindle copy, I have purchased a paper copy to lend to friends.
I want to live in a trailer. Actually, I used to live in a trailer, in my 20s, with my husband, a 2-yr-old, and baby #2 on the way. A 22-ft RV built in the 1960s. That was nearly 40 years ago. I felt poor then. I’m rich now by the world’s standards, yet I’m seriously thinking of selling my 4,100 sf home and treed, 1-acre lot with the big, in-ground pool to move back … to a trailer.
Will Davis, author of Enough: Finding More by Living with Less, helped me clarify my thinking about my trailer days. No, he doesn’t recommend you sell everything you have to move into a trailer. But his wise assessment of what is enough, what you require to be happy, and especially, the reason God gives us more than enough, has served as a catalyst to act on something that has been brewing inside of me for about 2 years. I love my stuff. I’m sure you love your stuff, too. But what is the purpose of stuff? How much stuff do you need to be happy? How do you know when you have enough stuff? Isn’t that a very personal assessment? Yes, it is always up to you to decide how much stuff you keep and how much you give away; God isn’t out to rob you of the good things you’ve worked so hard to acquire. But Will Davis illuminates a number of scriptures that, for the thoughtful Christian, provide guidance on keeping and giving away your stuff, your relationship to God, and most of all, your relationship to the poor and unsaved.
Unique to this book: Will Davis doesn't make you feel guilty for working hard to acquire stuff as do so many other "own less, live more" books. He doesn’t discourage saving money in the bank. He doesn’t make a pitch at the end of his book for you to send a donation to his church or any ministry he supports.
His writing style: Strong, entertaining, clear writing is high on my list; you will find it in this book. I’m a writer myself, so I tend to be more critical than most of weak writing, poor editing, excess verbiage, lousy grammar, etc. I found none of that in Will Davis’ book. It was a pleasure to read. Deep ideas, joyful revelations, illustrative anecdotes about real people—all delivered in simple prose.
P.S. – I do not know Will Davis, Jr. I’m not a member of his church. I had never heard of him until I saw his free book featured on BookBub. Since downloading a free Kindle copy, I have purchased a paper copy to lend to friends.
November 20, 2013
Where are all the book reviews?
Some of you may have noticed that very few book reviews have been posted to my blog lately. I want to tell you that I’ve been kept from my writing because of sacrifice: my volunteer work in sub-Sahara Africa with the Peace Corps or some other well-meaning international nonprofit to which I’m now devoted. That has a nice, altruistic ring to it, no? And it would be even more fishy to ascribe the silence from Virginia Beach to a schedule packed with radio and television interviews based on the three books I published this year. That sounds pretty good, too, but you smell that stinkin' fish, don’t you? So I wish I were running for office (national, preferably) so that I could use the punishing demands of a campaign as an excuse. I especially like the mental image that conjures: me, the open road, and a really, really long motorhome.
But no. None of these is the truth.
The truth, my friends, is that I have become an addict, and I’m not proud of it. There I am nightly sprawled in my sweats and fuzzy slippers on the recliner portion of our family room couch, in front of the news, iPad propped on my lap, playing Candy Crush Saga. Mind you, this is the same iPad that is now 127 pounds heavier than when I bought it last Christmas due to the hundreds and hundreds of free books I’ve downloaded since then, the books that I am supposed to be reading to improve my (very light and airy) mind. But there are those delightfully colored candy balls, popping and smashing and blinking and exploding all over the screen. They are so pretty. I love the chocolate one with all the colored dots on it the best; it’s a little like Christmas, don’t you think? The nonstop music loop is making me nutty, but there’s a mute button for that. The chocolate. Hate the chocolate, and I utterly loathe the $%&*@# flashing bombs. The nasty little goobers have kept me on my current level (104) for three days. I should write a letter to King.
I will get to one of those downloaded books as soon as I finish this level. Promise.
But no. None of these is the truth.
The truth, my friends, is that I have become an addict, and I’m not proud of it. There I am nightly sprawled in my sweats and fuzzy slippers on the recliner portion of our family room couch, in front of the news, iPad propped on my lap, playing Candy Crush Saga. Mind you, this is the same iPad that is now 127 pounds heavier than when I bought it last Christmas due to the hundreds and hundreds of free books I’ve downloaded since then, the books that I am supposed to be reading to improve my (very light and airy) mind. But there are those delightfully colored candy balls, popping and smashing and blinking and exploding all over the screen. They are so pretty. I love the chocolate one with all the colored dots on it the best; it’s a little like Christmas, don’t you think? The nonstop music loop is making me nutty, but there’s a mute button for that. The chocolate. Hate the chocolate, and I utterly loathe the $%&*@# flashing bombs. The nasty little goobers have kept me on my current level (104) for three days. I should write a letter to King.
I will get to one of those downloaded books as soon as I finish this level. Promise.
July 29, 2013
Encouragement in Tough Times
A Message from God: A 12-Year Old Boy's Experience in Heaven by Retha McPhersonMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Read this book in a day. I found Retha's account of the severe injuries to her 12-yr-old son and the good changes that came about in this family as a result of the tragedy to be genuine encouragement for tough times. We all have tough times; not all of us see the hand of God so clearly in the midst. Retha's account is honest, easy to understand, and very touching. Her son Aldo was severely injured in a car accident, died, went to Heaven, by prayer his spirit returned to his body, and then he (and his family) had to face months of rehabilitation. He saw divine healing in most of his body (almost entirely injuries to his brain), and his family is believing for the remainder of his injuries to be divinely healed.
I wanted to give this book five stars because I found it so engaging and informative. But on the part of the writer there is a bit too much repetition--not a lot, just enough to slightly annoy. This was minor enough that I was was leaning toward giving it five stars. But what caused me to finally make the decision to drop an entire star is that the editing is so poor. Typos, misspellings, and gobbledygook inserted into the text that is so nutty you have to read the line several times before you realize what the writer meant to say. And this book is published by Destiny Image? Some editor was having a really, really bad day.
View all my reviews
July 24, 2013
Even If It Hurts
I was walking through Best Buy yesterday on my lunch hour getting some routine shopping out of the way. But my mind was hardly on my chore. I had just finished a radio interview with a nationally syndicated network host and frankly, I was depressed. That might sound odd considering that most writers would salivate at such an opportunity. But discussing the hard places my husband and I have walked through—experiences I relate in my new nonfiction book, What to Do When the Blessings Stop – When God Sends Famine—dredged up the pain of those days, and to be honest, it hadn’t been exactly comfortable sharing with the world all the mistakes we have made.
Should I be taking this route? Is there any gain in sharing the pain of our pasts? It’s all so embarrassing. The easier route would be to keep polishing our (false) patina of perfection, make everyone think we have always had our act together in regards to finances, relationships, and life in general. Privacy is a safe place to live, no? Certainly easier than sharing your failings with 300 million people across the lower 48.
I couldn’t find peace. I was facing grave doubts about my decision to die to self, like a kernel of wheat that, when planted, disintegrates only to give birth to more wheat. It sounds spiritual, but dying to self doesn’t feel spiritual. It just hurts. So I prayed a simple prayer, right where I was, asking God to give me peace about going public with the book.
In a minute I heard a ding! inside my purse. I pulled out my smart phone, and there on the screen was an alert from my Web page. Someone had sent me a note. Thank you, the listener said, for sharing your message on the radio. He said a number of things in his e-mail, but I got the message: he was going through terrible trials, and my story had helped him.
Will I keep sharing the lessons I’ve learned the hard way? What do you think?
www.virginiahullwelch.net
Should I be taking this route? Is there any gain in sharing the pain of our pasts? It’s all so embarrassing. The easier route would be to keep polishing our (false) patina of perfection, make everyone think we have always had our act together in regards to finances, relationships, and life in general. Privacy is a safe place to live, no? Certainly easier than sharing your failings with 300 million people across the lower 48.
I couldn’t find peace. I was facing grave doubts about my decision to die to self, like a kernel of wheat that, when planted, disintegrates only to give birth to more wheat. It sounds spiritual, but dying to self doesn’t feel spiritual. It just hurts. So I prayed a simple prayer, right where I was, asking God to give me peace about going public with the book.
In a minute I heard a ding! inside my purse. I pulled out my smart phone, and there on the screen was an alert from my Web page. Someone had sent me a note. Thank you, the listener said, for sharing your message on the radio. He said a number of things in his e-mail, but I got the message: he was going through terrible trials, and my story had helped him.
Will I keep sharing the lessons I’ve learned the hard way? What do you think?
www.virginiahullwelch.net
July 16, 2013
I don't blame her
J.K. Rowling, author of the universally popular Harry Potter series, recently released a mystery novel, The Cuckoo’s Calling, under a pseudonym, Robert Galbraith. I thought it odd that she had done that. Think of the money she makes (sigh) from just one title, no matter the genre. When she takes to her computer it’s like spinning gold from oxygen. So why write under an assumed name?
I’ve put some thought into this, and now I can see why she did what she did. Rowling has nothing to prove. Everyone knows she can write bestsellers. Most important, she knows she can. She already has the name, the reputation, and the money. She’s free now to write for more visceral reasons such as a deep-seated need for purpose, divine call, and service. Maybe she even writes for fun.
I do not blame Rowling for seeking anonymity. She wants her new work to stand on its own merits. She seeks objective reviews, not those written through the rosy lens of swooning readers who look favorably on anything she writes merely because her name is on the front cover of earlier books they loved. The Cuckoo’s Calling is a new literary venture for Rowling. Maybe even Rowling needs to confirm to herself that, despite her phenomenal success with the wizard books, she can write a compelling mystery.
It must be freeing, as she says, to write for the sake of a good story that excites her inner muse instead of to meet sky-high expectations of her vast readership, which, if you think about it, can inhibit creativity. The desire to please readers who are enthusiastic for earlier books is a noble thing, but it's a double-edged sword. It can overwhelm that muse, and if not acknowledged, can negatively influence future work. There is a tendency for writers to try and re-create whatever it is their readers like about earlier projects, which stifles freshness and leaves an otherwise creative author going round and round on a literary grinding mill, turning out readable but predictable stories. Likely Ms. Rowling enjoyed writing The Cuckoo’s Calling because the very act was all about the story, independent of anyone’s expectations.
Writing for the fun of it. What a wonderful way to spend your day.
I’ve put some thought into this, and now I can see why she did what she did. Rowling has nothing to prove. Everyone knows she can write bestsellers. Most important, she knows she can. She already has the name, the reputation, and the money. She’s free now to write for more visceral reasons such as a deep-seated need for purpose, divine call, and service. Maybe she even writes for fun.
I do not blame Rowling for seeking anonymity. She wants her new work to stand on its own merits. She seeks objective reviews, not those written through the rosy lens of swooning readers who look favorably on anything she writes merely because her name is on the front cover of earlier books they loved. The Cuckoo’s Calling is a new literary venture for Rowling. Maybe even Rowling needs to confirm to herself that, despite her phenomenal success with the wizard books, she can write a compelling mystery.
It must be freeing, as she says, to write for the sake of a good story that excites her inner muse instead of to meet sky-high expectations of her vast readership, which, if you think about it, can inhibit creativity. The desire to please readers who are enthusiastic for earlier books is a noble thing, but it's a double-edged sword. It can overwhelm that muse, and if not acknowledged, can negatively influence future work. There is a tendency for writers to try and re-create whatever it is their readers like about earlier projects, which stifles freshness and leaves an otherwise creative author going round and round on a literary grinding mill, turning out readable but predictable stories. Likely Ms. Rowling enjoyed writing The Cuckoo’s Calling because the very act was all about the story, independent of anyone’s expectations.
Writing for the fun of it. What a wonderful way to spend your day.
June 20, 2013
Timeless Writing Advice - Forget the E-Book Angle
Digital Ink: Writing Killer Fiction in the E-Book Age by Bonnie Hearn HillMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
As an author of two fiction and one nonfiction books, I'm always looking to improve my craft. So when I saw Hill & Poe's book as a freebie on Steve Weber's Kindle Buffet, I thought "Oh why not, it's free. Probably won't be much there of use, but the price is right."
Boy was I in for a surprise. This book is hugely informative, easy to read, easy to understand, wastes no time getting to main points, and does a good job of explaining what you should and should not do in writing strong fiction. Mostly I liked how the authors supported their points so persuasively, and in short chapters too--makes it easier to chew off a bit of truth at a time. I had a lot of "Yes, that's true!" moments, sort of as if I'd always known, deep down, that fiction should be written this way or that way, but I just needed someone to shine a light on that deep down dark spot so that I could become conscious of it.
The authors mention several times that e-book writing requires special treatment by an unusually cognizant author. I'm not sure I agree with this. Good, timeless fiction in all formats shares construction elements that cut across all platforms. Perhaps they were angling to reach that ever-growing audience of self-published e-book authors and thought using "e-book" in the title would make their work more marketable. Don't know. Regardless, for any fiction writer of any medium, print or otherwise, this book is loaded with foundational principles to writing bestselling fiction. Go for it.
Though the book is short, just 92 pages, the material is worth the price amazon charges. Without hesitation I'm buying a copy for a family member who writes fiction and doesn't own an e-reader.
View all my reviews
June 14, 2013
What to Do When the Blessings Stop - Free this Weekend
Friends and family: Starting midnight tonight until Sunday midnight (Eastern) I am offering a download freebie at Amazon: What to Do When the Blessings Stop -- When God Sends Famine is a short (100-page) nonfiction book that I released a few weeks ago. Book jacket:
How do you counsel the Christian who never succeeds? Who loses home, business, family? Do you tell him to pray more? Study more? Keep up the positive confession? Is God angry? What hope do you offer? Or is this person you? Do you look back and remember a time, unlike now, when God’s blessings were a daily experience? Have you endured so many calamities that it seems as if an unseen force is arrayed against you, opposing you at every turn? If you’re beginning to believe that God has boxed you in, your problem may be famine, a spiritual rod God uses to correct.
What to Do When the Blessings Stop – When God Sends Famine provides guidance to help Christians recognize the signs of spiritual famine outlined in the Book of Haggai. We’re not talking here about routine trials and tribulations that we all must endure. No, this is about the hitting-the-wall aspect of spiritual famine: when nothing you do prospers. What to Do When will teach you how to recognize spiritual famine in your life, the difference between spiritual famine and ordinary faith trials, how and why God sends famine, and what steps you must take to break its crushing effects off your life.
Please post a review to amazon and goodreads after you have finished reading the book. Thank you forever.
To get your free download go to: http://www.amazon.com/What-Blessings-...What to Do When the Blessings Stop -- When God Sends Famine
How do you counsel the Christian who never succeeds? Who loses home, business, family? Do you tell him to pray more? Study more? Keep up the positive confession? Is God angry? What hope do you offer? Or is this person you? Do you look back and remember a time, unlike now, when God’s blessings were a daily experience? Have you endured so many calamities that it seems as if an unseen force is arrayed against you, opposing you at every turn? If you’re beginning to believe that God has boxed you in, your problem may be famine, a spiritual rod God uses to correct.
What to Do When the Blessings Stop – When God Sends Famine provides guidance to help Christians recognize the signs of spiritual famine outlined in the Book of Haggai. We’re not talking here about routine trials and tribulations that we all must endure. No, this is about the hitting-the-wall aspect of spiritual famine: when nothing you do prospers. What to Do When will teach you how to recognize spiritual famine in your life, the difference between spiritual famine and ordinary faith trials, how and why God sends famine, and what steps you must take to break its crushing effects off your life.
Please post a review to amazon and goodreads after you have finished reading the book. Thank you forever.
To get your free download go to: http://www.amazon.com/What-Blessings-...What to Do When the Blessings Stop -- When God Sends Famine
BooksontheBeach
Bringing you book value from the sunny sands of Virginia Beach--reviews, discussions, tips about what's good in print.
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