Lydia Howe's Blog, page 22
February 19, 2016
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Seven: England
ENGLAND! So, England is another place that I visited while traveling across part of Europe a couple of years ago. It wasn't until I was writing this blog post though that I realized I never ended up posting about England on here which is kinda crazy since it's one of my most favorite places I've ever been.
I am incredibly thankful for one of Noveltea's long-time readers, Hannah, for the amazing help she was with writing this chapter of the story. She lives in England and helped me out magnificently with figuring out where Annie should travel and what all she'd see. Thank you, Hannah!
And now, for the seventh segment of my fictional story, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks:
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Seven: England
I couldn’t help my squeal of delight; this was very nearly too good to be true. I tried to compose myself as we continued walking down the street… I didn’t want to come across as a total tourist. “That’s Big Ben.” Hannah, the daughter of some of my parent’s long-time friends and my personal tour guide for the week, pointed ahead of me. “Actually, the tower is officially named the Elizabeth Tower.” I stopped walking and turned all of my attention to the iconic clock tower. “Big Ben is just a nickname?” “Yes. For years the real name was just The Clock Tower, but they renamed it in 2012 in honor of Queen Elizabeth.” Pulling out my notebook I jotted down the information. “Was there any special reason they changed it?” “The Diamond Jubilee.” Hannah gave me an incredulous smile. “Right, right, that makes sense.” I continued walking. A week before I would have probably considered the day a bit windy, but after my sojourn in the Netherlands windy had taken on a new meaning. We meandered down the street, stopping every minute or two for me to snap another picture or take more notes. In my teen years I had been a serious reader of the classics and to be in the same county of some of the worlds most famous authors left me feeling slightly breathless. The summer I turned twenty I’d gotten in a WW2 Historical Fiction kick and had read about twenty books that were set (at least partly) in London. Seeing the streets, buildings, bridges, and other sights that had been described with such vivid detail made the books spring alive to me. I closed my eyes for a moment and I could almost hear the wail of bombs descending from Nazi aircraft and the panic surrounding me as mothers raced for bombing shelters, dragging their small children along behind them. I sucked in a mouthful of cold air and felt the race of antiaircraft men running to patrol their stations. Time stilled as I tipped my head back and searched the sky for the deadly planes. “Let’s ride the London Eye.” Hannah’s voice jerked me back to reality. I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the scenes that had seemed so real from my brain. “Sounds good to me.” Somehow my voice came out calm. It was less than a ten minute walk to the London Eye. I was surprised at how large of a crowd there was in line. “We are going to be in for a long wait.” I craned my neck to try and see the price for a ticket. “Yikes, and it costs a lot.” I looked at Hannah a bit askance. Hannah laughed, “You don’t know how the London Eye works, do you?” “What do you mean?” “First of all, we shouldn’t have a very long wait because twenty to twenty-five people ride in each capsules. Second of all, it’s not like a normal ferris wheel. Instead, this one goes around really slowly so people can look out over London. Some people even rent out a whole capsule and set up a table to eat a romantic dinner while seeing the sights.” “Now that sounds legit.” I wondered how much that would cost. “Yeah, sometimes people even get married in them.” And Poof, just like that I had my dream wedding planned. “How long of a ride is it?” “About 30 minutes.” Definitely enough time to perform a wedding. I was so coming back one day. Once we got in the London Eye the view was incredible. We were right near the Thames River and could see for what felt like miles on either side of it. I only took about five hundred pictures and I also had Hannah film me as we shot a few segments that I would eventually send off to my video editing team to make into a vlog. After the London Eye we visited the Tower of London where there are over 23,500 jewels, including the Crown Jewels. I read a plaque there that said each evening at 9:53 pm, a ceremony takes place to lock the Tower of London. This is how it works: an armed escort of the Queen’s Guards go along with the Chief Yeoman Warder to lock all the gates. One of the sentries call out to the escort and says, “HALT!, Who comes there?” and the Chief Warder replies, “The Keys.” Next the sentry asks “Whose keys?” “Queen Elizabeth’s Keys,” is the reply. After this the sentry allows the escort to pass by saying, “Pass Queen Elizabeth’s Keys, and all is well.” This has happened each and every day for hundreds of years; it is the oldest military ceremony in the world. Craziness. When we were done with the Tower of London we went to Westminster Abbey. There are 450 tombs and monuments in Westminster Abbey, including the tombs of Jane Austin, Charles Dickens, and the Brontë sisters. It was quite mind boggling thinking of the literary talent represented at the Abbey. One of the coolest facts I learned while there was that the original church was built on an island more than a thousand years before. Over time the Thames changed enough that eventually Thorney Island no longer existed. Another neat snippet of history that we could actually see was an oak door that is near the Abbey’s Chapter House. It’s supposedly the only Anglo-Saxon door in England and was recently dated to around 1032 AD. Now that’s impressive. Next we found a cute little restaurant where we ordered steak and kidney pie for a late supper (not my favorite meal ever…) then headed back to our hotel where we crashed into bed for the night. The next day we went on a whirlwind tour of museums: the Art Museum, London Museum, and Science Museum. (The London Museum was my favorite.) After that we grabbed a quick lunch on the go of fish and chips (how much more English can you get?) and headed out on the two hour drive to Stonehenge. Thankfully Hannah had a car so we didn’t have to take public transportation which Hannah informed me would be a bit of a trek. Stonehenge was really cool. We paid to have an audio guide on headsets and they did a fantastic job of explaining the history behind the famous landmark. I had no clue that Stonehenge is over 5,000 years-old, with construction beginning on the first stage of the monument in 3100 BC. People, it’s older than all the pyramids of Egypt! Yikes. It’s such an iconic English place that I knew I had to visit it, but I hadn’t been exactly thrilled about the prospect. After we got there though, I was really glad I had went. (It was even nice and windy which reminded me of the Netherlands.)
Thursday, Friday, and Saturday Hannah and I stayed at her parent’s house (Hannah is a student and had the week off for half-term), and spent each day traveling around to different villages. They were so quaint and I pretty much decided then the English countryside must be one of the most beautiful and fetching places on earth. “There’s literally so much to see that you’re going to have to just soak in as much as you can and not worry about the rest,” Hannah told me when I started off Thursday morning at a fast pace. “Why not just relax and enjoy each moment? These villages are so wonderful that they’ll send you into raptures of delight… As long as you aren’t constantly moving on to the next thing.” What Hannah said made sense so I took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down. The next few days were packed full of indescribable beauty. They even have stone cottages with thatched roofs. For real. Who knew those actually existed? The village of Castle Combe was literally so cute and gorgeous that I had to wipe tears of joy out of my eyes. You have got to visit it. One day I want to go back and curl up with all the old English classics and deliciously hot tea (which every. single. place. serves), and read for several weeks straight. The village of Lacock was amazing cause part of Pride and Prejudice as well as several other well-known movies had multiple scenes shot there. And also Bath. Bath got it’s name because of some Roman baths that date back to when the Romans inhabited England a long time ago. (Who would have guessed?) Do you have any clue how many well-known classics talk about Bath? It’s a very literary place. After Bath we visited Stratford-on-Avon where Shakespeare was born, and the Lake district up north where Beatrix Potter lived. (Growing up I was a huge Peter Rabbit fan; much more so than of Shakespeare.) A lot of the week was gloomy and gray, yet for some reason that didn’t bother me. There was so much to do indoors, exploring and reading and of course drinking tea, that the gray weather almost seemed to add to the charm.
On Sunday we went to church then had tea together one last time before Hannah drove me back to London where I spent the night in a hotel close to the airport. England was going to be an extremely hard country to leave and the most probable one for me to come back to. It was incomparable.
I am incredibly thankful for one of Noveltea's long-time readers, Hannah, for the amazing help she was with writing this chapter of the story. She lives in England and helped me out magnificently with figuring out where Annie should travel and what all she'd see. Thank you, Hannah!
And now, for the seventh segment of my fictional story, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks:
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Seven: England
I couldn’t help my squeal of delight; this was very nearly too good to be true. I tried to compose myself as we continued walking down the street… I didn’t want to come across as a total tourist. “That’s Big Ben.” Hannah, the daughter of some of my parent’s long-time friends and my personal tour guide for the week, pointed ahead of me. “Actually, the tower is officially named the Elizabeth Tower.” I stopped walking and turned all of my attention to the iconic clock tower. “Big Ben is just a nickname?” “Yes. For years the real name was just The Clock Tower, but they renamed it in 2012 in honor of Queen Elizabeth.” Pulling out my notebook I jotted down the information. “Was there any special reason they changed it?” “The Diamond Jubilee.” Hannah gave me an incredulous smile. “Right, right, that makes sense.” I continued walking. A week before I would have probably considered the day a bit windy, but after my sojourn in the Netherlands windy had taken on a new meaning. We meandered down the street, stopping every minute or two for me to snap another picture or take more notes. In my teen years I had been a serious reader of the classics and to be in the same county of some of the worlds most famous authors left me feeling slightly breathless. The summer I turned twenty I’d gotten in a WW2 Historical Fiction kick and had read about twenty books that were set (at least partly) in London. Seeing the streets, buildings, bridges, and other sights that had been described with such vivid detail made the books spring alive to me. I closed my eyes for a moment and I could almost hear the wail of bombs descending from Nazi aircraft and the panic surrounding me as mothers raced for bombing shelters, dragging their small children along behind them. I sucked in a mouthful of cold air and felt the race of antiaircraft men running to patrol their stations. Time stilled as I tipped my head back and searched the sky for the deadly planes. “Let’s ride the London Eye.” Hannah’s voice jerked me back to reality. I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the scenes that had seemed so real from my brain. “Sounds good to me.” Somehow my voice came out calm. It was less than a ten minute walk to the London Eye. I was surprised at how large of a crowd there was in line. “We are going to be in for a long wait.” I craned my neck to try and see the price for a ticket. “Yikes, and it costs a lot.” I looked at Hannah a bit askance. Hannah laughed, “You don’t know how the London Eye works, do you?” “What do you mean?” “First of all, we shouldn’t have a very long wait because twenty to twenty-five people ride in each capsules. Second of all, it’s not like a normal ferris wheel. Instead, this one goes around really slowly so people can look out over London. Some people even rent out a whole capsule and set up a table to eat a romantic dinner while seeing the sights.” “Now that sounds legit.” I wondered how much that would cost. “Yeah, sometimes people even get married in them.” And Poof, just like that I had my dream wedding planned. “How long of a ride is it?” “About 30 minutes.” Definitely enough time to perform a wedding. I was so coming back one day. Once we got in the London Eye the view was incredible. We were right near the Thames River and could see for what felt like miles on either side of it. I only took about five hundred pictures and I also had Hannah film me as we shot a few segments that I would eventually send off to my video editing team to make into a vlog. After the London Eye we visited the Tower of London where there are over 23,500 jewels, including the Crown Jewels. I read a plaque there that said each evening at 9:53 pm, a ceremony takes place to lock the Tower of London. This is how it works: an armed escort of the Queen’s Guards go along with the Chief Yeoman Warder to lock all the gates. One of the sentries call out to the escort and says, “HALT!, Who comes there?” and the Chief Warder replies, “The Keys.” Next the sentry asks “Whose keys?” “Queen Elizabeth’s Keys,” is the reply. After this the sentry allows the escort to pass by saying, “Pass Queen Elizabeth’s Keys, and all is well.” This has happened each and every day for hundreds of years; it is the oldest military ceremony in the world. Craziness. When we were done with the Tower of London we went to Westminster Abbey. There are 450 tombs and monuments in Westminster Abbey, including the tombs of Jane Austin, Charles Dickens, and the Brontë sisters. It was quite mind boggling thinking of the literary talent represented at the Abbey. One of the coolest facts I learned while there was that the original church was built on an island more than a thousand years before. Over time the Thames changed enough that eventually Thorney Island no longer existed. Another neat snippet of history that we could actually see was an oak door that is near the Abbey’s Chapter House. It’s supposedly the only Anglo-Saxon door in England and was recently dated to around 1032 AD. Now that’s impressive. Next we found a cute little restaurant where we ordered steak and kidney pie for a late supper (not my favorite meal ever…) then headed back to our hotel where we crashed into bed for the night. The next day we went on a whirlwind tour of museums: the Art Museum, London Museum, and Science Museum. (The London Museum was my favorite.) After that we grabbed a quick lunch on the go of fish and chips (how much more English can you get?) and headed out on the two hour drive to Stonehenge. Thankfully Hannah had a car so we didn’t have to take public transportation which Hannah informed me would be a bit of a trek. Stonehenge was really cool. We paid to have an audio guide on headsets and they did a fantastic job of explaining the history behind the famous landmark. I had no clue that Stonehenge is over 5,000 years-old, with construction beginning on the first stage of the monument in 3100 BC. People, it’s older than all the pyramids of Egypt! Yikes. It’s such an iconic English place that I knew I had to visit it, but I hadn’t been exactly thrilled about the prospect. After we got there though, I was really glad I had went. (It was even nice and windy which reminded me of the Netherlands.)
Thursday, Friday, and Saturday Hannah and I stayed at her parent’s house (Hannah is a student and had the week off for half-term), and spent each day traveling around to different villages. They were so quaint and I pretty much decided then the English countryside must be one of the most beautiful and fetching places on earth. “There’s literally so much to see that you’re going to have to just soak in as much as you can and not worry about the rest,” Hannah told me when I started off Thursday morning at a fast pace. “Why not just relax and enjoy each moment? These villages are so wonderful that they’ll send you into raptures of delight… As long as you aren’t constantly moving on to the next thing.” What Hannah said made sense so I took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down. The next few days were packed full of indescribable beauty. They even have stone cottages with thatched roofs. For real. Who knew those actually existed? The village of Castle Combe was literally so cute and gorgeous that I had to wipe tears of joy out of my eyes. You have got to visit it. One day I want to go back and curl up with all the old English classics and deliciously hot tea (which every. single. place. serves), and read for several weeks straight. The village of Lacock was amazing cause part of Pride and Prejudice as well as several other well-known movies had multiple scenes shot there. And also Bath. Bath got it’s name because of some Roman baths that date back to when the Romans inhabited England a long time ago. (Who would have guessed?) Do you have any clue how many well-known classics talk about Bath? It’s a very literary place. After Bath we visited Stratford-on-Avon where Shakespeare was born, and the Lake district up north where Beatrix Potter lived. (Growing up I was a huge Peter Rabbit fan; much more so than of Shakespeare.) A lot of the week was gloomy and gray, yet for some reason that didn’t bother me. There was so much to do indoors, exploring and reading and of course drinking tea, that the gray weather almost seemed to add to the charm.
On Sunday we went to church then had tea together one last time before Hannah drove me back to London where I spent the night in a hotel close to the airport. England was going to be an extremely hard country to leave and the most probable one for me to come back to. It was incomparable.
February 18, 2016
Why I Blog the Way I Do
My blogging ideal is pretty simple: Blog the way you wish other people blogged. Back before I blogged I read different blogs and picked out what I did and didn't like about them.
The list of things I didn't like was pretty consistent:
*Bloggers always apologizing for either being late or missing a day posting*Not having pictures of the blogger or their surroundings As a visual person I found it difficult to view the blogger as a real person *Author bloggers who never posted anything non-writing-related. I get that, I really do, but eventually I lose interest because I want to read blogs where I feel as if I'm getting to know the writer behind the posts*Poorly constructed sentences, incorrect grammer, boring topics, and posts that screamed I don't care enough to take time to make this better*Black backgrounds and bright multicolored words *Extremely inconsistent blogging*Bloggers paranoid about people stealing their work and often referring to copyrights*Not being able to find a way to contact the blogger *When my comments were never replied to *When a blogger has a schedule and each day is pre-planned: Music Monday. Wordy Wednesday. Fun Friday.
I'm certainly not saying all of these things are wrong and I get that some people would actually prefer those styles to mine. Yet instead of trying to wade through all that and constantly second-guess myself, I decided to just go with what I liked. That way I would most likely attract readers who had at least some of the same tastes as I do.
The list of things I do like in blogging:
*A constant blogger who I can count on, yet doesn't apologize when they're late I'd be delighted to have your feedback on this one. I decided way back when to never say "sorry" for being late on my blog because I found it so irritating coming from other bloggers. So far I've kept to that standard. There are times when I am sorry though. Like when I totally missed posting on Tuesday (I was almost ready to publish a post, by the way, then things came up and I never got back to it). Would y'all like me to say I'm sorry when I miss a day?
*Bloggers that have a picture/pictures of themselves in an easily looked at place, such as on the header or by the author bio. Also, if said picture also helps show their interests in life, that makes it so much better.
*Interesting About Me pages. I get that some people feel it's prideful to write a section all about themselves, but I think it's quite thoughtful in helping readers be able to relate. I'm not saying we should brag, but why not go ahead and give people a little glimpse into your life?
*Bloggers who either post their email address or have a contact form so if people have questions that they don't want to publish as a comment they can still reach them, and when they do get a comment, they reply quickly Being accessible is key. I'm still working at learning to reply in a timely manner; I am getting better though. Comment/email away and test my response time if you feel so inclined
*When a blog has correct grammar, punctuation, easily read font, and clearly seen words... Wow. It really does make a difference. I know I still have grammatical mistakes and typos quite often, that's not for lack of trying. I actually re-read my work a lot. It's just I don't catch everything
*Bloggers who blog about a wide range of things: Writing, book reviews, life, art in general, etc... I realize I'm quite possibly in the minority here, but it's what I like so I'm guessing there are other people who enjoy it as well
What about you? What are some things you do and don't like about blogging? Also, I'd be delighted to hear what y'all would like to see done differently on my blog. Please, I really do want to get better, so let me know!
* * *
As you can see, I've arrived back home. Yay for home! Yay for snow! Yay for a wintery winter! I got back a little before midnight last night and as nice as Florida is, after being gone for half of 2016 so far, I am extremely happy to exchange it for the cold snow of home.
The list of things I didn't like was pretty consistent:
*Bloggers always apologizing for either being late or missing a day posting*Not having pictures of the blogger or their surroundings As a visual person I found it difficult to view the blogger as a real person *Author bloggers who never posted anything non-writing-related. I get that, I really do, but eventually I lose interest because I want to read blogs where I feel as if I'm getting to know the writer behind the posts*Poorly constructed sentences, incorrect grammer, boring topics, and posts that screamed I don't care enough to take time to make this better*Black backgrounds and bright multicolored words *Extremely inconsistent blogging*Bloggers paranoid about people stealing their work and often referring to copyrights*Not being able to find a way to contact the blogger *When my comments were never replied to *When a blogger has a schedule and each day is pre-planned: Music Monday. Wordy Wednesday. Fun Friday.
I'm certainly not saying all of these things are wrong and I get that some people would actually prefer those styles to mine. Yet instead of trying to wade through all that and constantly second-guess myself, I decided to just go with what I liked. That way I would most likely attract readers who had at least some of the same tastes as I do.
The list of things I do like in blogging:
*A constant blogger who I can count on, yet doesn't apologize when they're late I'd be delighted to have your feedback on this one. I decided way back when to never say "sorry" for being late on my blog because I found it so irritating coming from other bloggers. So far I've kept to that standard. There are times when I am sorry though. Like when I totally missed posting on Tuesday (I was almost ready to publish a post, by the way, then things came up and I never got back to it). Would y'all like me to say I'm sorry when I miss a day?
*Bloggers that have a picture/pictures of themselves in an easily looked at place, such as on the header or by the author bio. Also, if said picture also helps show their interests in life, that makes it so much better.
*Interesting About Me pages. I get that some people feel it's prideful to write a section all about themselves, but I think it's quite thoughtful in helping readers be able to relate. I'm not saying we should brag, but why not go ahead and give people a little glimpse into your life?
*Bloggers who either post their email address or have a contact form so if people have questions that they don't want to publish as a comment they can still reach them, and when they do get a comment, they reply quickly Being accessible is key. I'm still working at learning to reply in a timely manner; I am getting better though. Comment/email away and test my response time if you feel so inclined
*When a blog has correct grammar, punctuation, easily read font, and clearly seen words... Wow. It really does make a difference. I know I still have grammatical mistakes and typos quite often, that's not for lack of trying. I actually re-read my work a lot. It's just I don't catch everything
*Bloggers who blog about a wide range of things: Writing, book reviews, life, art in general, etc... I realize I'm quite possibly in the minority here, but it's what I like so I'm guessing there are other people who enjoy it as well
What about you? What are some things you do and don't like about blogging? Also, I'd be delighted to hear what y'all would like to see done differently on my blog. Please, I really do want to get better, so let me know!
* * *
As you can see, I've arrived back home. Yay for home! Yay for snow! Yay for a wintery winter! I got back a little before midnight last night and as nice as Florida is, after being gone for half of 2016 so far, I am extremely happy to exchange it for the cold snow of home.
February 17, 2016
Arting Like Rushing Waves
It was a calm day and the waves were barely even waves, they were more like little armies of foaming water racing toward the beach. The water was going in several different directions... the little waves running into each other, some washing back out into the ocean, others rushing forward. It was beautiful, intriguing, and somewhat confusing to me as to why there were waves coming in from at least three different directions. I stood there watching them for a few minutes, delighted at the spectacle.
I can relate to those multi-directional waves. It seems like every time I shut my eyes to try and go to sleep a whole slew of thoughts race at me from various places. These past few weeks, this last one especially, a whole new world of ideas has opened up for me regarding When Life Hands You Lymes. It's exciting. And scary. And I know will mean epics amount of work, so therefore rather daunting. Then I hit on an actual line that would work in the "revised" WLHYL and I feel that moment of thrilling happiness that happens when an artist is arting. (Totally proper to say "arting" by the way.)
I have never been so far into a book (twenty-six months of not-quite daily work) and then decided to do such a huge revamp. Do you know what I remembered though? These changes that I'm thinking about were actually in the original plans for WLHYL, but somewhere during the first draft they were pushed off to the side and forgotten about. It wasn't until I had beta readers who began to point out the issues that I remembered my plans from way back when and decided to reinstate them into the book. (It's a lot more complicated than it sounds, by the way.)
Today I have some travel time and a full battery on the laptop, so I'm planning on hitting it hard (the changes, not the laptop). I'll be doing all sorts of delightful things like writing out a plot line (yes, yes, I do already have one, but I need another one for the second plot that's going to be there), figuring out how many words need to be deleted, and lots of brainstorming. I also have thousands upon thousands of words to get rid of, whole scenes to add, and character development to work on. I wish I could reward myself with donuts, but I'll stick to listening to cool music instead.
* * * What about you? Can you relate to the whole "waves rushing at me from every direction" thing?
I can relate to those multi-directional waves. It seems like every time I shut my eyes to try and go to sleep a whole slew of thoughts race at me from various places. These past few weeks, this last one especially, a whole new world of ideas has opened up for me regarding When Life Hands You Lymes. It's exciting. And scary. And I know will mean epics amount of work, so therefore rather daunting. Then I hit on an actual line that would work in the "revised" WLHYL and I feel that moment of thrilling happiness that happens when an artist is arting. (Totally proper to say "arting" by the way.)
I have never been so far into a book (twenty-six months of not-quite daily work) and then decided to do such a huge revamp. Do you know what I remembered though? These changes that I'm thinking about were actually in the original plans for WLHYL, but somewhere during the first draft they were pushed off to the side and forgotten about. It wasn't until I had beta readers who began to point out the issues that I remembered my plans from way back when and decided to reinstate them into the book. (It's a lot more complicated than it sounds, by the way.)
Today I have some travel time and a full battery on the laptop, so I'm planning on hitting it hard (the changes, not the laptop). I'll be doing all sorts of delightful things like writing out a plot line (yes, yes, I do already have one, but I need another one for the second plot that's going to be there), figuring out how many words need to be deleted, and lots of brainstorming. I also have thousands upon thousands of words to get rid of, whole scenes to add, and character development to work on. I wish I could reward myself with donuts, but I'll stick to listening to cool music instead.
* * * What about you? Can you relate to the whole "waves rushing at me from every direction" thing?
February 15, 2016
How Writing Relates to Gummy Bears
One thing I've discovered is that sometimes writing a book doesn't always go the way I had expected it to. Instead it's kinda like getting gummy bears, taking them apart, and reassembling them in a new way. It takes a lot of creativity, thinking outside of the norm, tools to work with, and a fair amount of time. The work is intricate and sometimes feels messy. (Well, not all those things apply to re-crafting gummy bears, but they do to re-crafting a story.)
Do you know what though? When I finally have the finished product in sight it's beautiful. All the years of work I've poured into crafting a story will be worthwhile because it will shimmer and be full of word pictures and moments that make me go yes!. (And, when it comes to gummy bears they'll be bright and colorful and fun to look at.)
This week I'm hoping to spend a lot of time reconstructing sentences and tearing apart my previously written work. I need to do tons of research on certain subjects and work at making my plot stronger and more consistent. I need to really think through the goals and purposes my book has and then figure out the best way to reach them. (Thankfully my sister did all the work with the gummy bears so I didn't have to put so much planning into them.)
It's exciting to think of the finished product, yet kinda scary to think of the process of getting there. Sometimes I feel like giving my book a nice little pat and setting it off to the side then playing Dutch Blitz all day long with my siblings. (Still trying to figure out a way that playing games can be considered research for writing...) It's times like this that I have to set realistic goals for my writing and then focusing on what the end goal is so I don't get caught up and freaked out by the millions of little details that will happen before that goal is realized. (With gummy bears, all you have to do is think of how delicious they'll be when you're done with them and that's motivation enough.)
What about you? Have you ever compared your writing to gummy bears? And, do you generally play with your candy, or just eat it?
* * *
It's that time again where we get to choose where Annie goes for this week in our Friday Series, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks. And the destination is... Great Britain! Yay! This makes me happy. :) (I'm actually going to consider this to be England.)
Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post.
Do you know what though? When I finally have the finished product in sight it's beautiful. All the years of work I've poured into crafting a story will be worthwhile because it will shimmer and be full of word pictures and moments that make me go yes!. (And, when it comes to gummy bears they'll be bright and colorful and fun to look at.)
This week I'm hoping to spend a lot of time reconstructing sentences and tearing apart my previously written work. I need to do tons of research on certain subjects and work at making my plot stronger and more consistent. I need to really think through the goals and purposes my book has and then figure out the best way to reach them. (Thankfully my sister did all the work with the gummy bears so I didn't have to put so much planning into them.)
It's exciting to think of the finished product, yet kinda scary to think of the process of getting there. Sometimes I feel like giving my book a nice little pat and setting it off to the side then playing Dutch Blitz all day long with my siblings. (Still trying to figure out a way that playing games can be considered research for writing...) It's times like this that I have to set realistic goals for my writing and then focusing on what the end goal is so I don't get caught up and freaked out by the millions of little details that will happen before that goal is realized. (With gummy bears, all you have to do is think of how delicious they'll be when you're done with them and that's motivation enough.)
What about you? Have you ever compared your writing to gummy bears? And, do you generally play with your candy, or just eat it?
* * *
It's that time again where we get to choose where Annie goes for this week in our Friday Series, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks. And the destination is... Great Britain! Yay! This makes me happy. :) (I'm actually going to consider this to be England.)
Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post.
February 12, 2016
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Six: The Netherlands
Yay! I finally have this post ready for y'all. This was a special post to write, because it's the first time in this series that "Annie" visited a country that I've visited in real life. Going to The Netherlands was a life long dream of mine, and spending several days there in May of 2014 was utterly amazing. Everyone should visit, but make sure you read dozens of books by Dutch authors first. (Special Note: All of these pictures were from my stay in The Netherlands.)
And now, please enjoy the continuing fictional series on my blog, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks :
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Six: The Netherlands
“We’ve got to take you to Kinderdijk.” Demi’s Dutch accent was as thick as I had remembered. “And feed you some of our national dish,” Lisa added. “Too bad you got in so late last night, cause I was really craving the herring yesterday.” “We also have to give you a tour of at least one of our hundreds of Museums.” Demi glanced over at me when we pulled up at a stop sign. “Are you sure we really only have you for a week? Because we literally have enough to keep you busy for a month.” “I wish I could take you up on the offer.” I shook my head in amazement. “Thank you so much for changing your schedule on such short notice, it’s so good to be around familiar faces again.” Demi, Lisa and I had been college roommates for our junior and senior years. We’d become such good friends that we’d made it a point to stay in touch with each other when we graduated even though we lived on different continents. With social media and modern technology it hadn’t been hard to do. “Did Demi mention that both of us have meetings all day long on Thursday?” Lisa leaned up from the backseat. “No worries though. We took the liberty of setting up interviews for you with the newspaper as well as a radio station. We also sent out some info to some travel bloggers here in The Netherlands in case they want to interview you.” My mouth dropped open, I knew the girls were go-getters, but this was Tuesday morning, I’d only told them I was coming to The Netherlands less than twenty-four hours before. “Plus we’ve made a list of things we think you should do here.” Demi shrugged, “It’s not every day we get to have our beautiful country showcased for an Exploration Airlines employee.” I laughed. “You girls. Wow, I am honored that you’ve taken so much time to help me. So, what’s on the list besides eating fish with raw onions, visiting windmills at Kinderdijk, and well, what are we doing now?” The girls had dragged me out to the car before I was fully awake. “We’re going to Vaalserberg.” Lisa sounded excited. “Nice.” I scrunched up my face, “And where or what is Vaalserberg?” I tried to repeat the word with the same Dutch accent Lisa had used, but failed miserably. “It’s the highest point in The Netherlands and also where Germany, Belgium, and The Netherlands meet together.” Demi pulled into a grocery store parking lot. “But first lets get some food to snack on; you are hungry, right?” “Um, yeah.” I grinned. I must have been going through a late growth spurt while in college (that’s my excuse anyway), cause I was always hungry. It had become a joke between us three girls after several late night donut runs while studying for tests. “Oh wow, it’s Aldi.” I gestured at the store in front of us. “Now you can see what a real Aldi looks like.” Lisa nudged my arm as we walked toward the entrance. I’d been shopping at our Aldis in the states ever since the girls introduced me to the store that originated in Germany and was popular in The Netherlands, so this would be cool. “It looks pretty much the same.” I looked around the brightly lit building. “Ah, but you’ve never seen one of these.” Demi lead me over to the wall with what looked like a large vending machine for… “Bread! Are you for real?” Reaching up I pushed the button and thunk, down dropped a cute, cheese covered roll into the chute. I reached down and picked it up, it was delightfully warm and smelled like how I had always imagined the word home to smell like. “Bag up what you want and then we pay at the front.” Lisa gestured at the machine, “They also have soft pretzels.”
Ten minutes later we climbed back in the car with bread, delicious looking raspberry jelly, and stroopwafels (which I soon found out are the best cookies in the world). The stroopwafels looked like a mini flat waffle and were filled with a thin layer of carmel and are incredibly scrumptious. While they’re not the healthiest of breakfasts, I definitely recommend everyone jump out of the norm and travel to The Netherlands and eat them early in the morning at least once in their life time. Legend has it that the first stroopwafel was made in the city of Gouda around the turn of the 18th century by a baker using leftovers from his bakery, which he then sweetened with syrup. Who knew leftovers could be so good? The drive to Vaalserberg wasn’t much further, and even though there wasn’t a spatular view, it was still really cool and weird to be looking at three different countries at once. We sat on a blanket on the hillside with the wind whipping around us and munched on our bread and jelly. “It’s really windy today.” I pulled my coat tighter around me. Lisa laughed, “You haven’t seen windy yet. This is the highest point in Netherlands, and it’s only 323 meters above sea level. The rest of our land is as flat as a pancake. That means we have tons of wind.” “So much,” Demi broke in, “that despite the rainy weather, we Dutch use raincoats and rain "suits" instead of umbrellas because the windy is too strong and it’s pretty much an acrobatic feat to hold an umbrella and cycle at the same time.” “Woah.” I couldn’t imagine wanting to be out if it were more windy than it was at that moment, but I didn’t say that, I didn’t want to sound like a wimp. “I remember you two liked to ride your bikes everywhere. So, I guess that’s a Dutch thing?” “Pretty much,” Demi mumbled the words around a bite of soft pretzel. “We’re actually the bicycle capital of the world. We have more than 18 million in the country, which is more than one bicycle per person. On average, we Dutch cycles 2.5 km per day, which is…” Lisa looked up for a moment, calculating, over a mile and a half.” Demi put her finger up and we waited while she finished the food that was in her mouth. “There are even specially-designated "fietspaden" or bike paths all over the country that are just for cycling, people aren’t allowed to walk on them.” “Woah. You Dutch do take bike riding seriously, don’t you?”
* * *
Wednesday we went and explored a windmill, a serious dream come true for me. It was cold, rainy, and very gray that day and the first glimpse I had of a windmill actually startled me. It was big, dark, scary, and imposing. Almost like a monster staking it’s claim on the landscape. Thankfully, it was less intimidating and actually pretty cool once we got close to it. “We’re going to tour it, you know,” Lisa told me after I had stared at it for several minutes, snapping away with my camera. “We’re allowed to go inside it?” Cool! “Of course, it’s kinda like a mini museum.” Demi was at work, so it was just Lisa and I hanging out. Together we went paid the entrance fee then stepped through the doorway and seemingly entered another world. I hadn't realized that whole families used to live in windmills. A family with thirteen children lived in that particular one about a hundred years ago. I could only imagine how cramped and busy that must have been. I read all of the plaques in the windmill and snapped even more pictures. At one point I stood on the top level with my eyes closed, listening to the whining and scraping of the huge blade as it turned outside. There were fishing nets hanging around the room and the smell of fish was pungent as it swirled around my senses. It wasn’t hard to imagine that I had been transported back into time.
* * *
Thursday I caught up on blogging, vlogging, and interviews, and then on Friday Demi and I headed to Harlem to the Beje while Lisa was at work.
Growing up I had read many books by Corrie ten Boom, who was taken to concentration camps during WW2 because of hiding Jews. The Beje, as the house she lived in was called, was a narrow, tall building; it was only about one or two rooms deep, one or two rooms wide, and maybe three stories high. During the Ten Boom's early years there they had a lot of people living in a small space so they bought the building behind it, (which was about the same size), and connected the two buildings with a spiral staircase that had a ship's mast as the main support. That meant the rooms weren't all on the same level and we had to go up a couple of steps to get into one room, and down several to get in the next.
During the war this worked out perfectly when it came time to build a secret room to hide the Jews in, because the house was so confusing no one would be able to tell if several feet of a room was missing. Corrie's bedroom was at the very top of the house, and therefore picked to be the place where the hidden room was built. That way, the Jews would have the most time to reach it in case of a raid. In her books Corrie said that when the room was done, she couldn't even tell it was there. The Beje was very crowded when we were there, I was amazed at how many people came to see it. When I saw Corrie's bedroom, I gasped in amazement. My first thought was about how small the hiding place was. The people who turned the house into a museum had knocked out a portion of the wall so visitors could see the hiding place more clearly. I waited to go in until everyone else was done so I could savor the moment longer. It was so small! It was about two feet wide and six or seven feet long. There had been six people at the Beje when it was raided and they escaped to the hiding place. They were there for several days before being rescued. Standing in the tight space I could not imagine how horrible and scary and cramped it must have been.
After the Beje we drove to Amsterdam where we parked the car and then succeeded in getting extremely lost and separated and I was quite freaked out (Amsterdam didn’t feel like the best place to get lost...). We finally met up near the Anne Frank Museum which was our destination. The wind was the strongest I’d ever felt outside of major storms and we stood outside, clutching our coats to us for over an hour while waiting so we could tour the building where Anne Frank and seven other people hid during WW2. Touring the Anne Frank building was very sobering and made me wish everyone studied history and learned from it.
* * * Saturday and Sunday we spent cycling around the neighborhood Demi and Lisa live in, mimicking each other (them my American accent, me their Dutch one), drinking coffee with cute little stirring spoons, going to second-hand stores, petting their dog (I loved having an animal around again), playing games, reminiscing about our college days, discussing our current lives, and going to church. I was sad to see Monday arrive, yet excited to see where my next adventure would take me. I let Demi have the honor of spinning the globe and Lisa the honor of picking the country with her eyes closed.
And now, please enjoy the continuing fictional series on my blog, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks :
Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks Week Six: The Netherlands
“We’ve got to take you to Kinderdijk.” Demi’s Dutch accent was as thick as I had remembered. “And feed you some of our national dish,” Lisa added. “Too bad you got in so late last night, cause I was really craving the herring yesterday.” “We also have to give you a tour of at least one of our hundreds of Museums.” Demi glanced over at me when we pulled up at a stop sign. “Are you sure we really only have you for a week? Because we literally have enough to keep you busy for a month.” “I wish I could take you up on the offer.” I shook my head in amazement. “Thank you so much for changing your schedule on such short notice, it’s so good to be around familiar faces again.” Demi, Lisa and I had been college roommates for our junior and senior years. We’d become such good friends that we’d made it a point to stay in touch with each other when we graduated even though we lived on different continents. With social media and modern technology it hadn’t been hard to do. “Did Demi mention that both of us have meetings all day long on Thursday?” Lisa leaned up from the backseat. “No worries though. We took the liberty of setting up interviews for you with the newspaper as well as a radio station. We also sent out some info to some travel bloggers here in The Netherlands in case they want to interview you.” My mouth dropped open, I knew the girls were go-getters, but this was Tuesday morning, I’d only told them I was coming to The Netherlands less than twenty-four hours before. “Plus we’ve made a list of things we think you should do here.” Demi shrugged, “It’s not every day we get to have our beautiful country showcased for an Exploration Airlines employee.” I laughed. “You girls. Wow, I am honored that you’ve taken so much time to help me. So, what’s on the list besides eating fish with raw onions, visiting windmills at Kinderdijk, and well, what are we doing now?” The girls had dragged me out to the car before I was fully awake. “We’re going to Vaalserberg.” Lisa sounded excited. “Nice.” I scrunched up my face, “And where or what is Vaalserberg?” I tried to repeat the word with the same Dutch accent Lisa had used, but failed miserably. “It’s the highest point in The Netherlands and also where Germany, Belgium, and The Netherlands meet together.” Demi pulled into a grocery store parking lot. “But first lets get some food to snack on; you are hungry, right?” “Um, yeah.” I grinned. I must have been going through a late growth spurt while in college (that’s my excuse anyway), cause I was always hungry. It had become a joke between us three girls after several late night donut runs while studying for tests. “Oh wow, it’s Aldi.” I gestured at the store in front of us. “Now you can see what a real Aldi looks like.” Lisa nudged my arm as we walked toward the entrance. I’d been shopping at our Aldis in the states ever since the girls introduced me to the store that originated in Germany and was popular in The Netherlands, so this would be cool. “It looks pretty much the same.” I looked around the brightly lit building. “Ah, but you’ve never seen one of these.” Demi lead me over to the wall with what looked like a large vending machine for… “Bread! Are you for real?” Reaching up I pushed the button and thunk, down dropped a cute, cheese covered roll into the chute. I reached down and picked it up, it was delightfully warm and smelled like how I had always imagined the word home to smell like. “Bag up what you want and then we pay at the front.” Lisa gestured at the machine, “They also have soft pretzels.”
Ten minutes later we climbed back in the car with bread, delicious looking raspberry jelly, and stroopwafels (which I soon found out are the best cookies in the world). The stroopwafels looked like a mini flat waffle and were filled with a thin layer of carmel and are incredibly scrumptious. While they’re not the healthiest of breakfasts, I definitely recommend everyone jump out of the norm and travel to The Netherlands and eat them early in the morning at least once in their life time. Legend has it that the first stroopwafel was made in the city of Gouda around the turn of the 18th century by a baker using leftovers from his bakery, which he then sweetened with syrup. Who knew leftovers could be so good? The drive to Vaalserberg wasn’t much further, and even though there wasn’t a spatular view, it was still really cool and weird to be looking at three different countries at once. We sat on a blanket on the hillside with the wind whipping around us and munched on our bread and jelly. “It’s really windy today.” I pulled my coat tighter around me. Lisa laughed, “You haven’t seen windy yet. This is the highest point in Netherlands, and it’s only 323 meters above sea level. The rest of our land is as flat as a pancake. That means we have tons of wind.” “So much,” Demi broke in, “that despite the rainy weather, we Dutch use raincoats and rain "suits" instead of umbrellas because the windy is too strong and it’s pretty much an acrobatic feat to hold an umbrella and cycle at the same time.” “Woah.” I couldn’t imagine wanting to be out if it were more windy than it was at that moment, but I didn’t say that, I didn’t want to sound like a wimp. “I remember you two liked to ride your bikes everywhere. So, I guess that’s a Dutch thing?” “Pretty much,” Demi mumbled the words around a bite of soft pretzel. “We’re actually the bicycle capital of the world. We have more than 18 million in the country, which is more than one bicycle per person. On average, we Dutch cycles 2.5 km per day, which is…” Lisa looked up for a moment, calculating, over a mile and a half.” Demi put her finger up and we waited while she finished the food that was in her mouth. “There are even specially-designated "fietspaden" or bike paths all over the country that are just for cycling, people aren’t allowed to walk on them.” “Woah. You Dutch do take bike riding seriously, don’t you?”
* * *
Wednesday we went and explored a windmill, a serious dream come true for me. It was cold, rainy, and very gray that day and the first glimpse I had of a windmill actually startled me. It was big, dark, scary, and imposing. Almost like a monster staking it’s claim on the landscape. Thankfully, it was less intimidating and actually pretty cool once we got close to it. “We’re going to tour it, you know,” Lisa told me after I had stared at it for several minutes, snapping away with my camera. “We’re allowed to go inside it?” Cool! “Of course, it’s kinda like a mini museum.” Demi was at work, so it was just Lisa and I hanging out. Together we went paid the entrance fee then stepped through the doorway and seemingly entered another world. I hadn't realized that whole families used to live in windmills. A family with thirteen children lived in that particular one about a hundred years ago. I could only imagine how cramped and busy that must have been. I read all of the plaques in the windmill and snapped even more pictures. At one point I stood on the top level with my eyes closed, listening to the whining and scraping of the huge blade as it turned outside. There were fishing nets hanging around the room and the smell of fish was pungent as it swirled around my senses. It wasn’t hard to imagine that I had been transported back into time.
* * *
Thursday I caught up on blogging, vlogging, and interviews, and then on Friday Demi and I headed to Harlem to the Beje while Lisa was at work.
Growing up I had read many books by Corrie ten Boom, who was taken to concentration camps during WW2 because of hiding Jews. The Beje, as the house she lived in was called, was a narrow, tall building; it was only about one or two rooms deep, one or two rooms wide, and maybe three stories high. During the Ten Boom's early years there they had a lot of people living in a small space so they bought the building behind it, (which was about the same size), and connected the two buildings with a spiral staircase that had a ship's mast as the main support. That meant the rooms weren't all on the same level and we had to go up a couple of steps to get into one room, and down several to get in the next.
During the war this worked out perfectly when it came time to build a secret room to hide the Jews in, because the house was so confusing no one would be able to tell if several feet of a room was missing. Corrie's bedroom was at the very top of the house, and therefore picked to be the place where the hidden room was built. That way, the Jews would have the most time to reach it in case of a raid. In her books Corrie said that when the room was done, she couldn't even tell it was there. The Beje was very crowded when we were there, I was amazed at how many people came to see it. When I saw Corrie's bedroom, I gasped in amazement. My first thought was about how small the hiding place was. The people who turned the house into a museum had knocked out a portion of the wall so visitors could see the hiding place more clearly. I waited to go in until everyone else was done so I could savor the moment longer. It was so small! It was about two feet wide and six or seven feet long. There had been six people at the Beje when it was raided and they escaped to the hiding place. They were there for several days before being rescued. Standing in the tight space I could not imagine how horrible and scary and cramped it must have been.
After the Beje we drove to Amsterdam where we parked the car and then succeeded in getting extremely lost and separated and I was quite freaked out (Amsterdam didn’t feel like the best place to get lost...). We finally met up near the Anne Frank Museum which was our destination. The wind was the strongest I’d ever felt outside of major storms and we stood outside, clutching our coats to us for over an hour while waiting so we could tour the building where Anne Frank and seven other people hid during WW2. Touring the Anne Frank building was very sobering and made me wish everyone studied history and learned from it.
* * * Saturday and Sunday we spent cycling around the neighborhood Demi and Lisa live in, mimicking each other (them my American accent, me their Dutch one), drinking coffee with cute little stirring spoons, going to second-hand stores, petting their dog (I loved having an animal around again), playing games, reminiscing about our college days, discussing our current lives, and going to church. I was sad to see Monday arrive, yet excited to see where my next adventure would take me. I let Demi have the honor of spinning the globe and Lisa the honor of picking the country with her eyes closed.
One of Those Untitled Posts
Hey folks, my Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks is going to be live a big late today. Here are a few fun facts for you to read while you're waiting. I hope y'all have a great day!
* The Netherlands has the highest population density in Europe with 487 inhabitants per square kilometer.
* About 30% of all Dutch births happen at home as a result of a large and established network of certified midwives.
* The Dutch have been making cheese since 400 AD.
* It is the largest exporter of cheese in the world with a dairy industry turning over around EUR7 billion.
* There are close to 1,000 museums in Netherlands.
* The world-famous tulips and tulip fields of Netherlands do not not originate from the country. The first tulip bulbs were actually imported from Turkey.
* The Netherlands has the highest population density in Europe with 487 inhabitants per square kilometer.
* About 30% of all Dutch births happen at home as a result of a large and established network of certified midwives.
* The Dutch have been making cheese since 400 AD.
* It is the largest exporter of cheese in the world with a dairy industry turning over around EUR7 billion.
* There are close to 1,000 museums in Netherlands.
* The world-famous tulips and tulip fields of Netherlands do not not originate from the country. The first tulip bulbs were actually imported from Turkey.
February 11, 2016
Howe Insurance Services: My Non-Writing Job
This week is one of the biggest and busiest and most fun we have with my non-writing job all year long. I know I don't post many specifics about my non-writing-work life on Noveltea, but I thought I would today to share some of the fun with y'all. (I work part time for our family's business Howe Insurance Services, along with working part time for a private retreat center, but I'll just be posting about Howe Insurance Services (HIS) today.)
My main task is working with planning and hosting events (I have the exciting and ambiguous title of Head of Hospitality). I do a lot of behind the scenes work with helping make sure everything runs smoothly when agents come for training conferences and helping provide food and snacks for them. When I'm not busy helping plan or host events I get to do secretarial and odd jobs; I also help with the grounds keeping during the summer.
This week we're down in Orlando, Florida for our annual R&R with about 150 of our HIS family (that would include some of our agents, plus any family members and guests they want to bring along). It's a trip where everyone can come together and relax and have fun and connect with each other in person. HIS has agents from all across the USA so they don't get to see each other very often although they connect through conference calls, training advances, personal training, emails, phone calls, and contests all the time. Therefore it's really special to see everyone getting together to hang out (and sometimes meeting each other for the first time).
Yesterday we had our Family Fun Day which is the highlight of the week. People go out to a dock behind the hotel where we are staying and take a boat over to a secluded cove that is really beautiful and then it's time to party. There are cool games for the kids, prizes, corn hole, volley ball, face painting, caricature artists, balloon artists, contests, a delicious catered picnic, and then at the end we have an awards ceremony where we recognize our top agents from the year before.
And, this post is taking me far longer to write than I had thought it would... It's hard to choose what I should say about HIS because there is simply so much I could say. So, I guess I'll end with this: If you have any questions you can leave them in the comments and I'll try to answer them. :)
My main task is working with planning and hosting events (I have the exciting and ambiguous title of Head of Hospitality). I do a lot of behind the scenes work with helping make sure everything runs smoothly when agents come for training conferences and helping provide food and snacks for them. When I'm not busy helping plan or host events I get to do secretarial and odd jobs; I also help with the grounds keeping during the summer.
This week we're down in Orlando, Florida for our annual R&R with about 150 of our HIS family (that would include some of our agents, plus any family members and guests they want to bring along). It's a trip where everyone can come together and relax and have fun and connect with each other in person. HIS has agents from all across the USA so they don't get to see each other very often although they connect through conference calls, training advances, personal training, emails, phone calls, and contests all the time. Therefore it's really special to see everyone getting together to hang out (and sometimes meeting each other for the first time).
Yesterday we had our Family Fun Day which is the highlight of the week. People go out to a dock behind the hotel where we are staying and take a boat over to a secluded cove that is really beautiful and then it's time to party. There are cool games for the kids, prizes, corn hole, volley ball, face painting, caricature artists, balloon artists, contests, a delicious catered picnic, and then at the end we have an awards ceremony where we recognize our top agents from the year before.
And, this post is taking me far longer to write than I had thought it would... It's hard to choose what I should say about HIS because there is simply so much I could say. So, I guess I'll end with this: If you have any questions you can leave them in the comments and I'll try to answer them. :)
February 10, 2016
Author Interview with Zachary McIntire
Hey y'all! Do you remember last week when I reviewed
Susanna Don't You Cry
and told y'all that I was going to post an author interview soon? Well, the day has come! I enjoyed reading Zachary's answers to my questions and hope that you do, too. Make sure you enter the interview at the end of
this
post for your chance to win a copy of Zachary's newest book.
And now, for the interview:
1. First off can you tell us a little bit about yourself and how you got started writing? Well, before anything else, I’m a 30-year-old child of God, justified by faith in Jesus Christ, seeking to be sanctified daily through the work of the Holy Spirit. I live in the beautiful Missouri Ozarks, surrounded by acres of land and animals that are owned by neighbors who get up a lot earlier than I do. (I love rural life, but have never so much as personally milked a cow.) The awesome family I live with includes my retired parents, and five adult, as-yet-unmarried siblings. Having graduated from homeschool, we all eventually partnered in a home-based business, and our church also meets in our home. For some reason, we tend to be found at home more than most people. I’m still trying to figure out why that is....How did I get started writing? Well, at the ripe old age of two (so I am told) I learned a small piece of oratory from founding father Patrick Henry, which I liked to deliver with great gusto on any and all occasions. Mistaking the indulgence of my family for an endorsement of my rhetorical skill, I apparently decided at that early age to devote the rest of my life to the spoken and written word. I am sorry to say that I have generally made more time for the former than the latter (leaving King Solomon to frown at me from Proverbs 14:23).In the late 90’s, I took my first stab at a full-fledged work of fiction: a historical novella set in Huguenot France. Knowing very little of Christian fiction at the time, I actually thought that this was an original setting. Suffice it to say, however, that a lack of uniqueness was by no means the most salient fault of that particular effort, which will remain forever under lock and key, unless perhaps my grandchildren get really bored someday.2. What does a writing session look like for you? Do you have a certain place you normally work? A certain time you set aside for writing? Snacks you eat, etc...? It usually looks like some part of a Sunday afternoon or evening. Being the only day we don’t work (note to budding entrepreneurs: self- employed = no regular hours) Sunday generally affords the only time slot in the week that’s long enough for me to do any meaningful writing. Unlike some authors (I suppose), I can’t just sit down and dash off five hundred words on lunch break. I write quite slowly, editing as I go. Once I get warmed up (usually an hour or so in) the pace can pick up a bit. Eating at my desk is something I basically never do, mostly because consuming food somewhere other than the kitchen or dining room was always strongly discouraged in our house, but also because I am a congenital neat freak. (If you don’t believe me, ask my brother Jason, who is not a neat freak, yet still has to put up with being mistaken for my not-quite- Siamese twin.)3. When I write I generally listen to music, gesture wildly, chew on my earbud cord, drink large amounts of water, and do a kind of sitting down dance while brainstorming. What are some of your writing quirks? Lydia, compared to you, I am so boring that it borders on the soporific. I pretty much need complete quiet, with maybe some white noise to cover up the sounds of our ever-busy house. When I need inspiration, I will sometimes pace around the room, fiddling with whatever object I’m currently keeping on my desk for the purpose. (Right now that position is vacant, leading to my pen being pressed into service, and likely shortening the useful life of its spring.) I also do this while talking on the phone, which I guess is kind of quirky, but Jason tells me that it’s also a trend in ergonomics, apparently to avoid the dreaded “sitting disease.”4. If you could take a month to go anywhere and write, where would you choose and why? That is a tough one. I have never done much traveling, so if the circumstances of my life were different, there are a lot of places I’d love to visit. Israel would have to top the list, but other places with a lot of history, like the castles of Europe, would be high up there too. I think that staying in a Swiss chalet while writing a historical novel about the Waldensians (one of my many interests) would be really cool.
5.What was your favorite part of writing Susanna Don’t You Cry?And why is that your favorite? It’s been over a year now since I finished writing the book, so it’s hard to remember which part was my absolute favorite. I know that the scene with Susanna and Tommy (which you kindly helped me improve just before the launch) was one of my favorites. When I can really get into the emotions of the characters, and extrude the Gospel through scenes that feel real – that’s the best that writing ever gets for me. (Second place goes to the humorous parts – see below.)6. Who is your favorite character in Susanna Don't You Cry? Why? I think it would have to be Phil, the screwball private eye, even though he only appears in two or three chapters. Writing him was really relaxing, because he isn’t directly involved in the more serious aspects of the story, so I was free to make him a little bit quirky and (hopefully) use him to provide some comic relief.7. Do you have any plans for future books that you can/want to share? Assuming I never make it to the chalet (which is a pretty safe bet) I hope to finish the novel I had started on before Susanna, which is a historical piece set in the Civil War. I got the idea for the book from reading about the service record of my great-great-grandfather, Elisha Paschall, who was a 2nd Lieutenant in the 46th Tennessee Infantry, and spent some time in a Union prisoner-of-war camp. (According to family legend, this is where he met another great-great-grandfather of mine. Having not much else to do, they reportedly discussed the possibility that their grandchildren might one day meet and marry, which in fact they did, that being the reason I am here to answer these questions!)8. If you could give aspiring authors any writing advice, what would it be? Be the writer God made you to be. Don’t try to be Tom Clancy, or C.S. Lewis, or Jane Austen. If you feel called to write in one of their genres, and can do it with competence and sincerity, by all means go for it. But if your gift is to write stories about snails, then don’t consider that calling too meager. Above all (to paraphrase the Apostle Paul) whether you write novels, or clean out gutters, or become the next World Pickleball Champion, do it with all your heart to the glory of God. In the end, His Name is the only one that’s worth being remembered.
And now, for the interview:
1. First off can you tell us a little bit about yourself and how you got started writing? Well, before anything else, I’m a 30-year-old child of God, justified by faith in Jesus Christ, seeking to be sanctified daily through the work of the Holy Spirit. I live in the beautiful Missouri Ozarks, surrounded by acres of land and animals that are owned by neighbors who get up a lot earlier than I do. (I love rural life, but have never so much as personally milked a cow.) The awesome family I live with includes my retired parents, and five adult, as-yet-unmarried siblings. Having graduated from homeschool, we all eventually partnered in a home-based business, and our church also meets in our home. For some reason, we tend to be found at home more than most people. I’m still trying to figure out why that is....How did I get started writing? Well, at the ripe old age of two (so I am told) I learned a small piece of oratory from founding father Patrick Henry, which I liked to deliver with great gusto on any and all occasions. Mistaking the indulgence of my family for an endorsement of my rhetorical skill, I apparently decided at that early age to devote the rest of my life to the spoken and written word. I am sorry to say that I have generally made more time for the former than the latter (leaving King Solomon to frown at me from Proverbs 14:23).In the late 90’s, I took my first stab at a full-fledged work of fiction: a historical novella set in Huguenot France. Knowing very little of Christian fiction at the time, I actually thought that this was an original setting. Suffice it to say, however, that a lack of uniqueness was by no means the most salient fault of that particular effort, which will remain forever under lock and key, unless perhaps my grandchildren get really bored someday.2. What does a writing session look like for you? Do you have a certain place you normally work? A certain time you set aside for writing? Snacks you eat, etc...? It usually looks like some part of a Sunday afternoon or evening. Being the only day we don’t work (note to budding entrepreneurs: self- employed = no regular hours) Sunday generally affords the only time slot in the week that’s long enough for me to do any meaningful writing. Unlike some authors (I suppose), I can’t just sit down and dash off five hundred words on lunch break. I write quite slowly, editing as I go. Once I get warmed up (usually an hour or so in) the pace can pick up a bit. Eating at my desk is something I basically never do, mostly because consuming food somewhere other than the kitchen or dining room was always strongly discouraged in our house, but also because I am a congenital neat freak. (If you don’t believe me, ask my brother Jason, who is not a neat freak, yet still has to put up with being mistaken for my not-quite- Siamese twin.)3. When I write I generally listen to music, gesture wildly, chew on my earbud cord, drink large amounts of water, and do a kind of sitting down dance while brainstorming. What are some of your writing quirks? Lydia, compared to you, I am so boring that it borders on the soporific. I pretty much need complete quiet, with maybe some white noise to cover up the sounds of our ever-busy house. When I need inspiration, I will sometimes pace around the room, fiddling with whatever object I’m currently keeping on my desk for the purpose. (Right now that position is vacant, leading to my pen being pressed into service, and likely shortening the useful life of its spring.) I also do this while talking on the phone, which I guess is kind of quirky, but Jason tells me that it’s also a trend in ergonomics, apparently to avoid the dreaded “sitting disease.”4. If you could take a month to go anywhere and write, where would you choose and why? That is a tough one. I have never done much traveling, so if the circumstances of my life were different, there are a lot of places I’d love to visit. Israel would have to top the list, but other places with a lot of history, like the castles of Europe, would be high up there too. I think that staying in a Swiss chalet while writing a historical novel about the Waldensians (one of my many interests) would be really cool.
5.What was your favorite part of writing Susanna Don’t You Cry?And why is that your favorite? It’s been over a year now since I finished writing the book, so it’s hard to remember which part was my absolute favorite. I know that the scene with Susanna and Tommy (which you kindly helped me improve just before the launch) was one of my favorites. When I can really get into the emotions of the characters, and extrude the Gospel through scenes that feel real – that’s the best that writing ever gets for me. (Second place goes to the humorous parts – see below.)6. Who is your favorite character in Susanna Don't You Cry? Why? I think it would have to be Phil, the screwball private eye, even though he only appears in two or three chapters. Writing him was really relaxing, because he isn’t directly involved in the more serious aspects of the story, so I was free to make him a little bit quirky and (hopefully) use him to provide some comic relief.7. Do you have any plans for future books that you can/want to share? Assuming I never make it to the chalet (which is a pretty safe bet) I hope to finish the novel I had started on before Susanna, which is a historical piece set in the Civil War. I got the idea for the book from reading about the service record of my great-great-grandfather, Elisha Paschall, who was a 2nd Lieutenant in the 46th Tennessee Infantry, and spent some time in a Union prisoner-of-war camp. (According to family legend, this is where he met another great-great-grandfather of mine. Having not much else to do, they reportedly discussed the possibility that their grandchildren might one day meet and marry, which in fact they did, that being the reason I am here to answer these questions!)8. If you could give aspiring authors any writing advice, what would it be? Be the writer God made you to be. Don’t try to be Tom Clancy, or C.S. Lewis, or Jane Austen. If you feel called to write in one of their genres, and can do it with competence and sincerity, by all means go for it. But if your gift is to write stories about snails, then don’t consider that calling too meager. Above all (to paraphrase the Apostle Paul) whether you write novels, or clean out gutters, or become the next World Pickleball Champion, do it with all your heart to the glory of God. In the end, His Name is the only one that’s worth being remembered.
February 9, 2016
When Life Hands You Lymes: Holding it for the First Time
A couple of weeks ago my dad told me that if I printed out a copy of my WIP (work-in-progress) When Life Hands You Lymes then he would read it. That was a deal I couldn't pass up, so I worked until after midnight nearly every day that week to finish the draft I was on so I could order a copy for him. We're currently in Florida for a conference with my non-writing job so when I ordered the still-messy-draft of the book from Lulu, I had it sent to my grandma's house because she lives close by.
The book arrived on Thursday when we were taking a break from work to spend family time playing putt-putt. I had gone along just to watch, so when Grandma arrived and handed me her keys I ran out in the pouring rain (that had just started) to her car to retrieve my box. It was a special moment for me since I started my book 764 days before then and probably worked on it for over 600 of those days and yet had not printed out even a single word of the story before ordering the book.
For the rest of the game (after the rain stopped) I followed my family from hole to hole, cheering them along and hugging my book and looking at it's beautiful pages. And, actually they weren't quite so beautiful because everywhere I looked I saw changes I needed to make, but at least I was holding it in my hands.
It can be overwhelming getting edits back from all my beta readers with huge sections that need changed. I like it and I'm thankful for all the time and energy my beta readers are investing, but that doesn't make it easy.
That's one reason why it means so much to be able to hold a physical copy of the WIP in my hands, even though I know it's nothing like what the finished product will be. This helps renew my perspective and remind me that if I continue on then one day (Lord willing) I will have a finished product to hold in my hands and the years I've poured into the book will be worthwhile.
Well, my dad finished the book a few days ago and he liked it (cue cheering). He was the first person in my family to read the book, so I was a slight bit nervous and very anticipatory about what he would say. I knew I wouldn't get any deep plot suggestion changes from him (although he did mention a few things) but I was hoping his overall impression would be good. When he did like it, that helped give me a boost and extra enthusiasm to tackle the changes all my beta readers have been suggesting...
So, onward and upward and forward we go!
The book arrived on Thursday when we were taking a break from work to spend family time playing putt-putt. I had gone along just to watch, so when Grandma arrived and handed me her keys I ran out in the pouring rain (that had just started) to her car to retrieve my box. It was a special moment for me since I started my book 764 days before then and probably worked on it for over 600 of those days and yet had not printed out even a single word of the story before ordering the book.
For the rest of the game (after the rain stopped) I followed my family from hole to hole, cheering them along and hugging my book and looking at it's beautiful pages. And, actually they weren't quite so beautiful because everywhere I looked I saw changes I needed to make, but at least I was holding it in my hands.
It can be overwhelming getting edits back from all my beta readers with huge sections that need changed. I like it and I'm thankful for all the time and energy my beta readers are investing, but that doesn't make it easy.
That's one reason why it means so much to be able to hold a physical copy of the WIP in my hands, even though I know it's nothing like what the finished product will be. This helps renew my perspective and remind me that if I continue on then one day (Lord willing) I will have a finished product to hold in my hands and the years I've poured into the book will be worthwhile.
Well, my dad finished the book a few days ago and he liked it (cue cheering). He was the first person in my family to read the book, so I was a slight bit nervous and very anticipatory about what he would say. I knew I wouldn't get any deep plot suggestion changes from him (although he did mention a few things) but I was hoping his overall impression would be good. When he did like it, that helped give me a boost and extra enthusiasm to tackle the changes all my beta readers have been suggesting...
So, onward and upward and forward we go!
February 8, 2016
Whimsy
There are some little things in life that are big to me. They make me light up and dance through the day and stretch out my arms to give the world a hug. I guess these things could be called my whimsical muse.
Take for instance when the sun splashes through a window or door and leaves a perfectly warm patch on the floor. When that happens I want to curl up on the floor in that bright glow and take a nap. You should try it sometime because it's incredibly peaceful and delightful waking up like a little puppy or fawn with a sun-warmed world around you.
Or think about getting snail mail. When I receive a letter in the mail I sometimes carry it around with me for hours before I open it because it is so special simply knowing I have it and that someone was thinking of me. I almost always have a letter I've received in my computer bag or purse, because then if I ever need some encouragement I can go and re-read it.
I also enjoy wearing sparkly socks with dress flats. I'm not sure why it's so special, but it makes me feel like dancing through the day. When I got one of my books published I celebrated by wearing sparkly socks every day for a week, I think that was the first time I tried it. All you girls should really try it; it's delightful.
Another thing I enjoy doing is running and walking and dancing and swinging in the rain. I often do this during the warm months and come home completely drenched, my whimsical muse meter pinging at full, and a feeling of happy contentment wrapped around me.
Oh, and we can't forget about being a flower girl at weddings. Whenever someone I know gets married I offer my services as the flower girl. There is something intriguingly beautiful about preparing the way for the bride by sprinkling petals on the ground for her to walk over. As of yet I haven't exactly had someone jump at the chance since I was eight, but surely that will change one day.
I also delight in going outside at night in the winter time and lying down in the snow to stargaze. The stars are the most clear and bright on the coldest nights, so I bundle up well and then enjoy the marvelous wonders of God's creation.
There are a host of other things that make up my whimsical muse like breaking my own records. And figuring out how to play games by myself. And trying to find the Big Dipper in the sky each night, especially when we're traveling. And the first bare foot days of summer. And freshly-squeezed lemonade. And laughing until I cry.
What are some of your whimsical behaviors that make life a better place?
* * * Yay! It's time for us to choose the country Annie will go to this week in our Friday Series, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks. And the destination is... The Netherlands! (Yay!!!)
And, don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post.
Take for instance when the sun splashes through a window or door and leaves a perfectly warm patch on the floor. When that happens I want to curl up on the floor in that bright glow and take a nap. You should try it sometime because it's incredibly peaceful and delightful waking up like a little puppy or fawn with a sun-warmed world around you.
Or think about getting snail mail. When I receive a letter in the mail I sometimes carry it around with me for hours before I open it because it is so special simply knowing I have it and that someone was thinking of me. I almost always have a letter I've received in my computer bag or purse, because then if I ever need some encouragement I can go and re-read it.
I also enjoy wearing sparkly socks with dress flats. I'm not sure why it's so special, but it makes me feel like dancing through the day. When I got one of my books published I celebrated by wearing sparkly socks every day for a week, I think that was the first time I tried it. All you girls should really try it; it's delightful.
Another thing I enjoy doing is running and walking and dancing and swinging in the rain. I often do this during the warm months and come home completely drenched, my whimsical muse meter pinging at full, and a feeling of happy contentment wrapped around me.
Oh, and we can't forget about being a flower girl at weddings. Whenever someone I know gets married I offer my services as the flower girl. There is something intriguingly beautiful about preparing the way for the bride by sprinkling petals on the ground for her to walk over. As of yet I haven't exactly had someone jump at the chance since I was eight, but surely that will change one day.
I also delight in going outside at night in the winter time and lying down in the snow to stargaze. The stars are the most clear and bright on the coldest nights, so I bundle up well and then enjoy the marvelous wonders of God's creation.
There are a host of other things that make up my whimsical muse like breaking my own records. And figuring out how to play games by myself. And trying to find the Big Dipper in the sky each night, especially when we're traveling. And the first bare foot days of summer. And freshly-squeezed lemonade. And laughing until I cry.
What are some of your whimsical behaviors that make life a better place?
* * * Yay! It's time for us to choose the country Annie will go to this week in our Friday Series, Around the World in Fifty-Two Weeks. And the destination is... The Netherlands! (Yay!!!)
And, don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post.
