WRITING LESSONS
One lesson God has taught me in writing this novel I’m completing is that when I write about the spiritual struggles of my protagonist, I have to pray first for the right words. To write at all I have to be in close fellowship or my enemy will gain a toehold on my heart and the words just don’t “flow” which is my way of knowing they are not under His leadership. So writing about her rebellion or fear when I have conquered it, however briefly, is difficult at best and can even result in a new battle of my own—unless I have bathed the time in prayer beforehand.
And even when writing about her victories, I have to be careful to recognize that they are not mine, but hers. Otherwise, I can internalize the whole scene into my own life when that victory never took place! Does that make sense? I suppose only to a fellow writer! The caveat to this is that one of the themes which emerged during the writing process is to show through the lives of my characters how God provides for our every need whether we have asked or not and whether we are looking for that provision or not. So I have concluded living vicariously through this character is okay for the author as well as future readers. Just another way God has made a way for me as well as my readers.
Perhaps this is why God has called me to write Christian fiction? At any rate, I will continue to honor Him with the words which He inspires, to tell the stories He has put in my heart, and to relate the spiritual journey in each book even if my own is a bit lacking at times. Eventually, it is my prayer God will reveal to me the reasons behind each story for I know He has not led me through each one without a higher purpose than simply telling a tale. I knew there was a reason this novel has study questions at the end, so readers can delve more deeply into God’s Word as the reader reflects on what she has read—and that reason was for my own growth!
My prayer is by reading a novel dedicated to Him, you will be motivated to study His Word and how it applies to your life. And the author will be honored as that glory goes to the One who deserves it. May God prepare your heart this day to receive whatever He has designed for you to discover of His richest treasure!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
MAKING MEMORIES IN WRITING
Making memories, one step at a time! That is my motto for right now in my personal life. And should be ours as writers. God uses our incredible imaginations, invaluable knowledge of story techniques, and vast research skills to put together just the right story line that He desires to come out of our minds. All we have to do is be available.
When you sit down at your computer, begin a work session with prayer that God will inspire you, direct you, and use you to the best of your ability in those moments. Bind our enemy’s distractions, discouragements, and despair from attacking your heart and slowing your progress. Banish your pessimism and second guessing, listen for your characters’ voices to speak, and allow your creativity to flow. Ask Him to loose His Spirit to write through you, for it is His story in reality. Be faithful to your calling and He will be faithful to His promises!
While a set schedule and writing goals are important, don’t get so caught up in producing “so many words” that you miss the beauty of the prose you are creating. Have fun with it and let it charm you as you do when immersed in a book that has latched onto your mind and heart and won’t let go. Before you know it, you will discover the hidden treasures God had planned for you to find that day, and wonder why it was such a struggle to drag yourself to the desk that morning. Don’t get me wrong: it is hard work, no doubt. Anyone who tells you otherwise either is misguided or has never written anything more than a grocery list or text message! However, you are never alone in facing it and trudging through it and emerging victorious on the other side. And the memory of that will spur you on to other similar triumphs.
In the process of writing, God will reveal to you the themes He is working on in your own life, the battles raging within, and the conflicts you are enduring. And help you make sense of them as to how they impact your WIP. It is in your writing He can unleash them for healing, restoration, and new purpose. Nothing could be more amazing than watching this miracle unfold before your eyes, unless it is knowing someday when another in need reads your words, she can also find the same miracle for her own life.
My advice then? Just write! And let the Lord handle the results in His own time. Make those memories with Him and with your characters and for them. It will be worth it all!
Making memories, one step at a time! That is my motto for right now in my personal life. And should be ours as writers. God uses our incredible imaginations, invaluable knowledge of story techniques, and vast research skills to put together just the right story line that He desires to come out of our minds. All we have to do is be available.
When you sit down at your computer, begin a work session with prayer that God will inspire you, direct you, and use you to the best of your ability in those moments. Bind our enemy’s distractions, discouragements, and despair from attacking your heart and slowing your progress. Banish your pessimism and second guessing, listen for your characters’ voices to speak, and allow your creativity to flow. Ask Him to loose His Spirit to write through you, for it is His story in reality. Be faithful to your calling and He will be faithful to His promises!
While a set schedule and writing goals are important, don’t get so caught up in producing “so many words” that you miss the beauty of the prose you are creating. Have fun with it and let it charm you as you do when immersed in a book that has latched onto your mind and heart and won’t let go. Before you know it, you will discover the hidden treasures God had planned for you to find that day, and wonder why it was such a struggle to drag yourself to the desk that morning. Don’t get me wrong: it is hard work, no doubt. Anyone who tells you otherwise either is misguided or has never written anything more than a grocery list or text message! However, you are never alone in facing it and trudging through it and emerging victorious on the other side. And the memory of that will spur you on to other similar triumphs.
In the process of writing, God will reveal to you the themes He is working on in your own life, the battles raging within, and the conflicts you are enduring. And help you make sense of them as to how they impact your WIP. It is in your writing He can unleash them for healing, restoration, and new purpose. Nothing could be more amazing than watching this miracle unfold before your eyes, unless it is knowing someday when another in need reads your words, she can also find the same miracle for her own life.
My advice then? Just write! And let the Lord handle the results in His own time. Make those memories with Him and with your characters and for them. It will be worth it all!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Part Two of Great News!
(Continued from last week)
In the same way my great-nephew has turned our world upside down with his presence, for authors of fiction, so should the characters in our novels. Developing their stories gives them flesh and feelings and a future which is hard for a writer to shake simply because she is finished writing for the day. And if I do my job right, my readers will sense this as well.
Remember when soap operas were all the rage (not that I watched them regularly but certainly could not escape others around me who did) and you would overhear someone in the grocery store talking to another about the death of a supposed mutual friend? Then to your shock, the shopper would mention the name and you would realize it was only a character on one of the daily programs!
There is a reason those TV shows endured for such a long time and were so popular with women—the characters jumped out of the screen and into the hearts of the viewers, becoming alive in more ways than one to them. They had a stake in what happened to them, how they felt during it, and where it would take them in the future. In other words, they lived their tragedies and joys along with them!
Unfortunately, my great-nephew lives in another state and I haven’t gotten to hold him yet. Nevertheless, he is alive to me and powerful in his impact on my heart. It’s because after months of praying for him and anticipating his birth, now I’ve seen his photos, read the comments of his parents and other family members who are there (thanks to FaceBook!), and felt with my heart how real he is. Just this morning I saw a photo of his little hands, folded in front of his face while he slept, and my heart melted all over again!
How can I translate this emotion onto the printed page and into the lives of my characters? In what way can I use this powerful feeling I have about someone I’ve never met and translate it for the characters in my novel, bringing them to life for my readers? It has to begin with experiencing the emotions for myself, then I will more easily be able to put them into words which will pierce the hearts of my readers and stay with them long after they complete the book. I don’t have to birth a child to know how it makes me feel, though it helps. Having loved one is enough to allow me to convey the complexity of this special experience in written form, to show and not simply tell about it.
For the past week, God has been instructing me through this precious little one and now I’m eager to push my characters even deeper, so they might live in yet another dimension instead of being restricted to the pages of my novel. They have a message to share with others and I am only the tool the Lord has used to help them do so. I hope some day people will talk about my characters in the grocery store and with great excitement read and re-read my works to discover more depth than they saw the first time through. It is then I will know I have succeeded in validating the emotion I’ve felt this past week for my great-nephew as well as how my heavenly Father can continue to stretch me as an author.
Look for similar situations in your own life and see how God can expand your horizons as a writer and as a human being, made in His image and inspired by His love!
(Continued from last week)
In the same way my great-nephew has turned our world upside down with his presence, for authors of fiction, so should the characters in our novels. Developing their stories gives them flesh and feelings and a future which is hard for a writer to shake simply because she is finished writing for the day. And if I do my job right, my readers will sense this as well.
Remember when soap operas were all the rage (not that I watched them regularly but certainly could not escape others around me who did) and you would overhear someone in the grocery store talking to another about the death of a supposed mutual friend? Then to your shock, the shopper would mention the name and you would realize it was only a character on one of the daily programs!
There is a reason those TV shows endured for such a long time and were so popular with women—the characters jumped out of the screen and into the hearts of the viewers, becoming alive in more ways than one to them. They had a stake in what happened to them, how they felt during it, and where it would take them in the future. In other words, they lived their tragedies and joys along with them!
Unfortunately, my great-nephew lives in another state and I haven’t gotten to hold him yet. Nevertheless, he is alive to me and powerful in his impact on my heart. It’s because after months of praying for him and anticipating his birth, now I’ve seen his photos, read the comments of his parents and other family members who are there (thanks to FaceBook!), and felt with my heart how real he is. Just this morning I saw a photo of his little hands, folded in front of his face while he slept, and my heart melted all over again!
How can I translate this emotion onto the printed page and into the lives of my characters? In what way can I use this powerful feeling I have about someone I’ve never met and translate it for the characters in my novel, bringing them to life for my readers? It has to begin with experiencing the emotions for myself, then I will more easily be able to put them into words which will pierce the hearts of my readers and stay with them long after they complete the book. I don’t have to birth a child to know how it makes me feel, though it helps. Having loved one is enough to allow me to convey the complexity of this special experience in written form, to show and not simply tell about it.
For the past week, God has been instructing me through this precious little one and now I’m eager to push my characters even deeper, so they might live in yet another dimension instead of being restricted to the pages of my novel. They have a message to share with others and I am only the tool the Lord has used to help them do so. I hope some day people will talk about my characters in the grocery store and with great excitement read and re-read my works to discover more depth than they saw the first time through. It is then I will know I have succeeded in validating the emotion I’ve felt this past week for my great-nephew as well as how my heavenly Father can continue to stretch me as an author.
Look for similar situations in your own life and see how God can expand your horizons as a writer and as a human being, made in His image and inspired by His love!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
GREAT NEWS!!
With the advent of this new year has come a fresh blessing to our extended family, one I’m excited to share with you. Today I became a great-aunt for the first time (hope there are many more to come!) and I couldn’t possibly be prouder! How such a tiny little guy could burst upon the scene of my life and change things in an instant I would say is beyond my understanding—but I’m already a grandmother and five of those little ones have done this trick to me over the past seven years. So yes, I do have some comprehension of the process involved, just in a slightly different way. And I love it!
Another aspect is seeing my brother become a grandfather. My little brother!! Total awe is the only way to describe that emotion rolling around in my heart. Through thick and thin, in joy and tears, we have come a long ways, brother! Welcome to that incredible club called “grandparenting”. The rewards are priceless and it is heart-warming to know what is in store for you after today. You will never be the same!
And one last thought has come to nestle in my mind as well—the fact that this little guy is going to carry on my maiden name for yet one more generation. This is the one which is overwhelming me today. I’ve had almost nine months to contemplate the coming adventure in the addition to our family, but only now has the full impact of what that means in the long run hit me. I gave up that name of course when I married; but its legacy is important to me and I’m gratified to know it won’t die out with my precious nephew. God has taken him on a long spiritual and emotional journey over the past several years and today is the culmination of all the healing and restoration He performed in this young man’s life, by blessing him with the incredible gift of his amazing wife and handsome son! Thank You, Jesus, for that miracle and for loving them so much!! Your love has multiplied to each of us in such a special way through them and we are deeply grateful.
In case you think I’ve indulged in a shameless outpouring of emotion with this post without a connection to its stated purposes, please be patient. Next week I will relate what God has taught me from this exciting experience as it relates to my calling to write for Him. Rest assured the Lord has woven lessons into the most intricate details of our lives and He longs to reveal those secrets to us if we are willing to look with His eyes!
With the advent of this new year has come a fresh blessing to our extended family, one I’m excited to share with you. Today I became a great-aunt for the first time (hope there are many more to come!) and I couldn’t possibly be prouder! How such a tiny little guy could burst upon the scene of my life and change things in an instant I would say is beyond my understanding—but I’m already a grandmother and five of those little ones have done this trick to me over the past seven years. So yes, I do have some comprehension of the process involved, just in a slightly different way. And I love it!
Another aspect is seeing my brother become a grandfather. My little brother!! Total awe is the only way to describe that emotion rolling around in my heart. Through thick and thin, in joy and tears, we have come a long ways, brother! Welcome to that incredible club called “grandparenting”. The rewards are priceless and it is heart-warming to know what is in store for you after today. You will never be the same!
And one last thought has come to nestle in my mind as well—the fact that this little guy is going to carry on my maiden name for yet one more generation. This is the one which is overwhelming me today. I’ve had almost nine months to contemplate the coming adventure in the addition to our family, but only now has the full impact of what that means in the long run hit me. I gave up that name of course when I married; but its legacy is important to me and I’m gratified to know it won’t die out with my precious nephew. God has taken him on a long spiritual and emotional journey over the past several years and today is the culmination of all the healing and restoration He performed in this young man’s life, by blessing him with the incredible gift of his amazing wife and handsome son! Thank You, Jesus, for that miracle and for loving them so much!! Your love has multiplied to each of us in such a special way through them and we are deeply grateful.
In case you think I’ve indulged in a shameless outpouring of emotion with this post without a connection to its stated purposes, please be patient. Next week I will relate what God has taught me from this exciting experience as it relates to my calling to write for Him. Rest assured the Lord has woven lessons into the most intricate details of our lives and He longs to reveal those secrets to us if we are willing to look with His eyes!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Just to let you know I won't be posting until after the new year now. I am focused entirely on my family for the next couple of weeks--getting ready for Christmas with them, then resting up and getting organized for the coming year.
Hope you have a blessed and safe Christmas as you celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! And, a peaceful New Year's with all the hope God has planned for you in it!
See you in 2011!!
Hope you have a blessed and safe Christmas as you celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! And, a peaceful New Year's with all the hope God has planned for you in it!
See you in 2011!!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
CHEROKEE STAR
Part Seven
(Continued from 12/5/10 post)
“Not unless you can stop the hate, Cherokee. His abuse created the hate, not you. But you’ve chosen to live in it instead of to live in freedom from it. That’s very sad, you know. It was your choice, not his. What a waste.”
The tears silently streamed down her cheeks and she made no attempt to wipe them away, as if they could somehow wash clean the memories of all those years of hatred if she let them flow. He studied her eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions he’d managed to bring out of her, probably for the first time ever.
“Why? Just tell me why?”
“Why, what?” the Sheriff asked.
“Why did he pick on a child like he did? Why did he force himself on me when I was unable to fight him off? And why did he pass me around to all his friends like I was a toy? What did I do to deserve that?”
Gulping back his emotions at the admission that, as he had suspected, there was more to her nightmare than she had earlier revealed, he said, “You didn’t do anything to deserve this kind of treatment, Cherokee. You were a young child whose innocence threatened his ability to control you. He apparently couldn’t stand facing that innocence so he took it from you. His mind was sick. That doesn’t excuse what he did but it might help you understand him better.”
“I don’t want to understand him! I want to kill him! With every breath I take, I want to kill him, over and over and over . . .” Her voice trailed off as sobs shook her whole body.
The Sheriff desperately wanted to embrace her and soothe away the little girl’s hurt still so raw and deep, but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. So he just sat there staring at her. Better to let her talk than say the wrong thing and lose this moment.
“But I don’t really. Not deep down. You know?”
He nodded. “Sit down, Cherokee. Let me tell you about Someone who can help you with this hatred. It won’t change things, because you are still going to hang for all those people you killed. But maybe you have time to change one thing before it’s too late, and that could make all the difference in the world—and in the next.”
”What’s that?”
“Your heart. You have a song of freedom to sing, Cherokee Star. And you’d better learn the words quickly because you don’t have much time left. My Friend can teach you how to sing those lullabies again and mean them. He can bring you the peace you have looked for all these years in whiskey and guns, a peace that will finally drown out those voices in your nightmares. You said a while ago you were born again that morning you killed your father. But you can truly be born again in a different way, if you would like. It’s all up to you. Please listen, will you?”
THE END
Note to Readers: Let me know if you enjoyed this serial version of the story. I don't believe any person is beyond redemption at any point until he or she takes that last breath on earth. Cherokee didn't have many choices in her life but without Christ they were limited even further. Even a hardened Sheriff could see beyond her tough exterior to the tender heart of a young and scared woman who didn't understand the hand life had dealt her. It is my sincere prayer that Cherokee listened to him as he shared about the One who could change her for eternity and learn to face death with more dignity than she'd ever known in life. Though a fictional tale, Cherokee came alive for me as her story unfolded in one setting at the computer, and by the time I finished I was in tears for the tragedy of her wasted life, yet also filled with hope for the one last choice she had to make before her hanging.
Blessings, Laura
Part Seven
(Continued from 12/5/10 post)
“Not unless you can stop the hate, Cherokee. His abuse created the hate, not you. But you’ve chosen to live in it instead of to live in freedom from it. That’s very sad, you know. It was your choice, not his. What a waste.”
The tears silently streamed down her cheeks and she made no attempt to wipe them away, as if they could somehow wash clean the memories of all those years of hatred if she let them flow. He studied her eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions he’d managed to bring out of her, probably for the first time ever.
“Why? Just tell me why?”
“Why, what?” the Sheriff asked.
“Why did he pick on a child like he did? Why did he force himself on me when I was unable to fight him off? And why did he pass me around to all his friends like I was a toy? What did I do to deserve that?”
Gulping back his emotions at the admission that, as he had suspected, there was more to her nightmare than she had earlier revealed, he said, “You didn’t do anything to deserve this kind of treatment, Cherokee. You were a young child whose innocence threatened his ability to control you. He apparently couldn’t stand facing that innocence so he took it from you. His mind was sick. That doesn’t excuse what he did but it might help you understand him better.”
“I don’t want to understand him! I want to kill him! With every breath I take, I want to kill him, over and over and over . . .” Her voice trailed off as sobs shook her whole body.
The Sheriff desperately wanted to embrace her and soothe away the little girl’s hurt still so raw and deep, but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. So he just sat there staring at her. Better to let her talk than say the wrong thing and lose this moment.
“But I don’t really. Not deep down. You know?”
He nodded. “Sit down, Cherokee. Let me tell you about Someone who can help you with this hatred. It won’t change things, because you are still going to hang for all those people you killed. But maybe you have time to change one thing before it’s too late, and that could make all the difference in the world—and in the next.”
”What’s that?”
“Your heart. You have a song of freedom to sing, Cherokee Star. And you’d better learn the words quickly because you don’t have much time left. My Friend can teach you how to sing those lullabies again and mean them. He can bring you the peace you have looked for all these years in whiskey and guns, a peace that will finally drown out those voices in your nightmares. You said a while ago you were born again that morning you killed your father. But you can truly be born again in a different way, if you would like. It’s all up to you. Please listen, will you?”
THE END
Note to Readers: Let me know if you enjoyed this serial version of the story. I don't believe any person is beyond redemption at any point until he or she takes that last breath on earth. Cherokee didn't have many choices in her life but without Christ they were limited even further. Even a hardened Sheriff could see beyond her tough exterior to the tender heart of a young and scared woman who didn't understand the hand life had dealt her. It is my sincere prayer that Cherokee listened to him as he shared about the One who could change her for eternity and learn to face death with more dignity than she'd ever known in life. Though a fictional tale, Cherokee came alive for me as her story unfolded in one setting at the computer, and by the time I finished I was in tears for the tragedy of her wasted life, yet also filled with hope for the one last choice she had to make before her hanging.
Blessings, Laura
Sunday, December 5, 2010
CHEROKEE STAR
Part 6 (Continued From Post on 11/28/10)
He [the Sheriff] had opened his mouth to say something when she [Cherokee] suddenly whirled around and looked at him. He was startled not only by the unexpected move but also by what he saw. Tears streamed down her cheeks!
“That’s not true, what I just said about my mother. I remember now. She used to sing to me in the night after he got through with me and had fallen asleep on the floor in the lean-to. She’d creep in there and help me to her bed and lie there in the dark and sing softly in my ear until I feel asleep. Those same lullabies. I felt safe and warm there in her arms, listening to those soothing words I’d heard my Grandma sing. And I would dream of leaving there and becoming a famous singer.”
He wisely chose not to say a word, just let her talk it out. After another moment of silence, she continued.
“Why couldn’t I remember that? Why did I only remember that she never stopped him? I hated her for that.”
“Maybe this was all she felt strong enough to do for you, to comfort you afterward.”
“Maybe . . . but I was only a child. She was a grown woman. And she chose to live with that monster. Why didn’t she take my brother and me and just leave? Wouldn’t that have been better than forcing me to grow up like this—and to kill?”
“She never forced you to kill, Cherokee. That was your choice. She told you to take the money and get out, to go where you’d be safe. She had no way of knowing he’d come back and catch you before you could leave. She was trying to protect you the only way she knew how. Don’t be so harsh with her. You have made many of the same mistakes she did, you know.”
“What do you mean? I don’t have a little girl but if I did I certainly wouldn’t sit by and watch her being treated like I was without lifting a hand to help her. And I’m not living with a monster, you know.”
“Oh, yes, you are, young lady, most definitely! You live with the monster of your nightmares. Every time you close your eyes, he’s right there. And it fuels your hatred and bitterness so much that when you wake up you feel compelled to go out and try to kill him again and again. That’s your monster. And now he’s won.”
“Won? What are you talking about? I’m the one who ‘won’. I have had more money than I ever dreamed I could have owned in my whole life, enough to buy anything I want. Far more than he ever had in his miserable life. And the power to take more anytime I desire to do so. People are afraid of me when I walk down the street and if they forget for a moment, the posters will remind them of just how dangerous I am. He hasn’t won anything. He’s dead and I killed him.”
To Be Continued . . .
Part 6 (Continued From Post on 11/28/10)
He [the Sheriff] had opened his mouth to say something when she [Cherokee] suddenly whirled around and looked at him. He was startled not only by the unexpected move but also by what he saw. Tears streamed down her cheeks!
“That’s not true, what I just said about my mother. I remember now. She used to sing to me in the night after he got through with me and had fallen asleep on the floor in the lean-to. She’d creep in there and help me to her bed and lie there in the dark and sing softly in my ear until I feel asleep. Those same lullabies. I felt safe and warm there in her arms, listening to those soothing words I’d heard my Grandma sing. And I would dream of leaving there and becoming a famous singer.”
He wisely chose not to say a word, just let her talk it out. After another moment of silence, she continued.
“Why couldn’t I remember that? Why did I only remember that she never stopped him? I hated her for that.”
“Maybe this was all she felt strong enough to do for you, to comfort you afterward.”
“Maybe . . . but I was only a child. She was a grown woman. And she chose to live with that monster. Why didn’t she take my brother and me and just leave? Wouldn’t that have been better than forcing me to grow up like this—and to kill?”
“She never forced you to kill, Cherokee. That was your choice. She told you to take the money and get out, to go where you’d be safe. She had no way of knowing he’d come back and catch you before you could leave. She was trying to protect you the only way she knew how. Don’t be so harsh with her. You have made many of the same mistakes she did, you know.”
“What do you mean? I don’t have a little girl but if I did I certainly wouldn’t sit by and watch her being treated like I was without lifting a hand to help her. And I’m not living with a monster, you know.”
“Oh, yes, you are, young lady, most definitely! You live with the monster of your nightmares. Every time you close your eyes, he’s right there. And it fuels your hatred and bitterness so much that when you wake up you feel compelled to go out and try to kill him again and again. That’s your monster. And now he’s won.”
“Won? What are you talking about? I’m the one who ‘won’. I have had more money than I ever dreamed I could have owned in my whole life, enough to buy anything I want. Far more than he ever had in his miserable life. And the power to take more anytime I desire to do so. People are afraid of me when I walk down the street and if they forget for a moment, the posters will remind them of just how dangerous I am. He hasn’t won anything. He’s dead and I killed him.”
To Be Continued . . .
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