Never Give Up, Never Surrender

Much of the U.S. is in a drought right now.  Thankfully not to the point of Dust Bowl phenomenon.   However, crops are struggling or have failed, leaving farmers in the red.  In the interim, thousands of firemen have been battling wildfires in Colorado and Utah that have destroyed homes and countless acres of coveted forrest.  Where is the rain?  You don't have to look far.  Floods and storms, lightning strikes, and fireworks which ignite in a 15 second blitz, are taking place all over the world leaving collosal damage in their wake.  How does one rebuild when catastrophy robs you of everything you cherish, when sails are lax and your ship appears to be dead in the water?

The answer.  Rain and wind CAN and DOES come.

I started writing in 1992, when a story about two Army scouts rode into my head.  I spent years researching post-Civil War, the West, Native American Indians, the Sioux, the Army and on and on and on.  (In what I like to call the Black Hole of Research.)  Years went by as I learned the process of writing without any direction.  Through it all, my characters wouldn't leave me alone, even after I put them on hold for years at a time.  Those were frustrating years, when my children came first and  writing had to wait.  With LTC gone on TDY constantly, I had little time on my hands.  And with four little children looking to me to be both parents, I could not afford to put them off.  I made sure they never felt like I would.

My creative drought continued, but I finally wrote that first book, all 220,000 words of it, filled with enough plots for 5 books and a new writer's flaws.  Of course, the book got rejected.  I trimmed it down.  Rejected.  The writing wasn't strong enough.  (I beat my head against the wall.  What did that mean?)  I rewrote the book with a new plot, new villains and turned it into a paranormal historical.  Rejected.  But here a slight breeze began to tickle my sails - I was starting to get feedback.

Parched earth repels heavy rain, but a slow mist encourages absorption. 

Years passed.  I wrote other books, joined my local writing chapter, worked on craft, took online classes, went to workshops and conferences.  And more importantly, applauded and watched from the wings while those I respected signed publishing contracts.  Most of the time, I felt abandoned on that windless sea, blistered by the heat, my stomach roiling with salt water.  Many times I entertained the notion of quitting, that I was talented and could do more productive things with my time.  But when writing is in your blood, all you CAN DO is write.

I entered contests which tore out my vitals, needling my body with new holes I didn't want or need.  And yet, I still entered.  Why?  Because of that tiny seed of hope that one day I might succeed.  In 2010, I finaled in the RTTA contest.  In 2011, I finaled in the RTTA Legend Award contest.  I did not win, but finaling was the goal.  (The parties alone were worth it, right my southern friends?) 

Here's the most important thing I learned about contests.  If you don't send your ship out, your ship cannot come in.  And as with any submission, persistence pays off.

I'm so glad I kept submitting and sailing with my weathered eye on that horizon.  Today, the book of my heart is going to be published by Crimson Romance, thanks to my fabulous editor Jennifer Lawler.  Crimson has opened my sails.  The wind is now at my back.  My helm is steered toward a distant shore and new adventures lay ahead.  But none of this would have happened, had I packed it in during the long drought or cowered in the corner during the storm.  None of it would have happened without the help of my friends, critique partners, and professionals who helped along the way. 

We hold our futures in our hands.  We can lay seeds of doubt in rocky soil or weed infested earth or we CAN hold onto hope as we till the ground until our hands bleed.  The important thing is to plant one good seed after another.  Our ultimate reward, through drought or diluge, will be that coveted harvest.

C - create

A - activate

N - navigate

D - determination

O - override

Develop a CAN DO attitude.  Keep going whenever the heat rises and there's no end in sight.  The world is BIG ENOUGH for all of us.  And success isn't more than a wish away.

"Never, never, never, never, never give up."  Winston Churchill

Who or what keeps you going when drought or storms cross your path?

 

Mother's Day is a day when we celebrate the women responsible for sculpting our lives and creating in us a newer, improved model.  Whether you're a mother with children of your own, or you share your love with furry friends, to include fish (if you wish), women hold the world in their hands.  And what a formitive world it is.

Societies all across the board have cherished women.  A woman is the key to mankind.  Her womb harbors the survival of humanity.  There is no finer role in life than to take on the yoke of motherhood, in whichever form that may be.

To respond to this call of duty, many of us have put careers on hold in order to experience the joys of motherhood.  And even more of us have gone to various lengths to have a child, oftentimes without happy result. 

On the childhood front, in war-torn countries countless children are orphaned on a day to day basis.  Death is common.  Fear is prevelant.  Like childless women desperate for a baby of their own, little ones yearn for someone willing to offer them the love they've been mortally denied.

I count myself lucky that my children were born Americans and have grown into healthy adults.  Yet, I yearn for the days when they gathered at my feet or we sat together reading stories before bed.  Though those were oftentimes loud and stressful moments, I cherish each one even more as the years pass by.

In light of those emotions, I've asked myself over and over again, what makes a woman successful?  Is it the smile she puts on everyday for those she loves, even if she's got a fever or has been up all night long with a sick child?  What about the hours she's put in to tidy her home and cook a great meal for her husband, often without a thank you? 

Does a woman base her success on her career or the love of those around her when she's still trying to figure out who she is?

Life is a wonderful thing.  Seasons come and go.  People are born and die.  In the interim, each and every one of us has had a mother.  Many of us have been mothers.  Nurturers have been given the chance to teach, sculpting the next generation.  And yet, others will find motherhood or grandparenthood in the not so distant future. 

Our experiences, the love we've shared with our families, have made us unique.  What is the one thing you've learned from your mother that you want to pass along to the younger generation as you pass the baton?

Bobbleheads Jiggle & So Do I

Testing... Testing... (Tap. Tap. Tap.) Is this thing on? It is? (Head shake answer. Is that a yes or a no, I can't tell. My head is moving too.)

My name is Kathy and I feel like a Bobblehead.

Voices in my head speak to me randomly in the shower. (Caviot: These are not psychotic but equally as distracting.) And, is always the case, they rally when I'm in a place I can't write the ideas down.
Just to prove who's in control, little worker bees buzz round shoveling coal into the cogs to keep me on task at work. While oftentimes giving me just a hint of a scene or idea I cannot react upon.
Bobbling head... bursts into cheerleader mode when family needs beckon to be addressed, the phone rings, and deadlines approach.

Little feet dance upon brain cells to convince me Bobblehead syndrome is a reaction to the inner music playing in my head. (Cue Eminem... I Need a Doctor.)

Sometimes it takes Super Girl strength to resist the minion and keep me on task when head bobbing seems to make others believe I'm agreeing to whatever they say.

Other times one must control the control freak when thoughts scatter from this subject to that, so much so that one can rarely capture a fully-shaped thought. (Ouch! I'm sorry but your whip makes me nervous! )

Gads! A call to the clergy might be in order.

Or possibly the good fairy! She might bring sweets. ;)Or a doctor to remedy said wiggle and recommend stabilization.

Bobblehead, the act of head wiggling with no apparent purpose, might be a simple lack of sleep or too much sleep or not sleeping well. What if the spasm above the neck begins and ends with rem sleep, as someone just suggested to me not too long ago? Apparently, if a person spends all their time in rem sleep, the brain never rests. Heavens, am I to believe that Bobbleheads even wiggle at night?

By George! My affliction might not stem from taking on too many tasks at once, or being chastized for not reacting to my characters' commands or not reacting to situations the way other people desire. The annoying habit of jiggle head might stem from dreaming... wanting more than you are given or worrying about never receiving your dreams at all.

Blasted shaking... perhaps a drink to ease the dizzyness?

Whatever the case may be, my head is jiggling these days on a not-so-steady neck. I've been to the chiropractor for months and can't find relief.

Always remember, when all else fails, call in a Jedi. (Works for me!)

How do you keep your head from spinning?

Bobbleheads courtesy of Bobblemaker.com where you can create a custom bobblehead of your own or someone you love as a gift.

Writers Can Look Forward to Amazing Feet

We’ve done a lot of chatting about rules and lists this week. As I sat with my legs propped before me and pondered the topics, I started thinking about feet. Mine, in particular, like massive Sasquatch entities without fur, are hard to miss. Suddenly, I had an epiphany! Feet are important extensions of our bodies and minds. If they are not rested or pampered properly, they get sore, swollen, and can even appear gnarly. You can tell a lot about someone by looking at their feet, the kind of life they’ve led, the kind of care they’ve given their bodies. The facts are plain, if we want our feet to carry us wherever we want to go, there is a hierarchy of learning to be had, dating from the beginning of our lives.

BIRTH!

Baby feet are pudgy, with adorable little piggies waiting to be counted. But baby feet are worthless, unable to take a baby anywhere until muscles in legs and hips grow strong enough to support a baby’s weight.

A toddler’s feet help a child scurry across the floor from one activity to the next and it is up to parents to teach a child not to run too fast, too soon. Sometimes children have to fall in order to get back up and take another step.

‘Tween feet are usually too big in proportion to a child’s body. At the rate feet grow at this age, shoes are needed almost every 3-4 months. But, a child’s tendency to do too much can be curbed at this age easily enough, and heels, though doable in the future, are not in a child’s wardrobe… yet. And a ‘tween can’t drive anywhere… yet. A tween still relies upon teachers, parents, and peers to show the way.

Enter the teenager. (You thought I was going to say ‘Dragon’, didn’t you?) Teen feet grow as fast as lightning. Shoes are more expensive, coinciding with trendy tastes and peer pressure, a constant source of woe. Teen feet dance, run around race tracks, get stepped on in school halls, smell worse than a cistern, and have a tendency to put the pedal to the metal when parents and policemen aren’t looking, giving parents gray hair before their time. By now, feet have grown to their peak. The growth has stopped, learning to thrive and balance in heels begins.

Time passes. Days of late night dancing, barefoot summers, and shoes without arches become a thing of the past. Feet, like body counterparts, grow older, wiser, settling for ‘comfy’ shoes rather than suffering overlong in stilts when a shoe insert can belay the pain. There is less stress on feet when the mind is assured of a destination.

Feet, my friends, are a metaphor for a writer’s life!

A writer’s first love, books, is the vehicle in which a writer journeys into the imagination, leading a writer upon the road he/she was previously unable to walk. Out of the ‘walk about’, a writer is born.

Wobbly first steps lead to research and ‘how to’ books map the way. Soon a young writer learns how to run away with prose.

Wrong turns are taken, hands are smacked in contests or rejections, and still the young writer returns to the page. Like a toddler scurrying to discover new and interesting things, a writer is a glutton for knowledge and punishment, eager to meet like-minded souls and test boundaries, anxious to share ideas, and oblivious to anyone who doesn’t believe the book can be written.

In the first few years of a writer’s life, a writer builds a foundation, a career. Workshops, online classes, conferences, listening to other writers share their journey; these are things that appease our ‘tween’ writer, a writer who is eager to drive a successful career in the right direction... TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!

Behold the teen writer…

Look Ma, the shoe finally fits! And oh, what a spectacular shoe it is, (fill in the blank). Now a writer has found the right pair of stilettos, sturdy, balanced, fashionable shoes that will never be outgrown. (Chances are they will be replaced before the new wears off.)

This writer can drive a smooth and efficient plot, no training wheels, crutches or braces needed. With seasoned, athletically muscular legs, a writer races off to this conference to network with that author/agent/editor, and that workshop to present a class. The growing writer has excelled and nurtured a strong voice, exemplifying skill in keeping the prose fresh and intriguing, mystifying and enrapturing readers like J.K. Rowling did with the Harry Potter Series or Stephanie Meyer with the Twilight Series.

SUCCESS!

Settled into a rhythm and standing on a fashionably firm foundation, a savvy writer can now write one book after another, confident that the journey taken was worth the athlete’s foot, corns, bunions, and warts that now plague a writer’s feet. Remember there must always be SACRIFICE!

Didn’t think I could do it, did you? Feet ARE essential to a writer’s life. Decorative, worn, haggard, sore feet are the epitome of a writer’s journey. My feet may be big, but they have already taken me places I’ve never dreamed of reaching. Like my goal of becoming a published author, my imagination and my feet were created just the right size to lead me wherever I or my characters need to go.

Pamper your feet. They’ve been in training for you your entire life. Look at them with new eyes. You are where you should be at this stage in your life. But there’s still plenty of time left to let your feet take you where you want to go.

Birth. To the top! Success. Sacrifice. Standards good enough for any calling. Where do you want your feet to take you?