Tag Archives: passion

a dozen things i’d tell my younger self

14 Oct
Ronald and me, circa 2010, Thailand

Thailand, 2008

1. Go ahead. Hang up on those telemarketers.

2. Don’t sweat the mess. Keeping a tidy house is not how you want to be spending you time, trust me. Did someone see it? Don’t sweat that either. IT’S FINE. So you’re not going to be remembered for how orderly you were. So what?

3. The world is a wildly confusing place. Form your opinions, but don’t expect to be right all the time.

4. Don’t rush your plans. Think slowly and carefully about where you’re going with your life. At the same time…

5. Make decisions! Yeah, you’re going to make bad ones, but picking a path and walking down it is better than being in limbo all the time.

6. Mistakes are great. Mistakes are the best teachers.

7. Rejection will help to refine your art and transform you into a badass. Don’t shy away from it.

8. Let the kids flip the pancakes, even though they suck at it.

9. Wake up early. You actually like it. No joke.

10. This is not a perfect little world so drop the perfect little facade. Things getting real? Well, get real with them. Don’t be embarrassed for you or anyone else. You’re not putting on a play. Besides, if you were putting on a play then you’d need all of that emotional and awkward¬† and messed up stuff or else it’d just be boring.

11. Don’t take yourself too seriously.

12. Persistence is key. Forget about easy. Easy gets you nothing.

Anyone else feeling any of these? I missed a lot. Anything you would add?



i’m going to ramble & there will be ecards

5 Oct

This could not go wrong, scientifically speaking.

First, frustrations. Because, as my personal checks clearly state, I am freakishly talented! Really, I am. Yet my bank account does not properly relate this little tidbit of information, and when I am drug from my fantasy world to survey this unfortunate fact I am left frustrated and confused. How could I be that poor?! Talented, wonderful me?! Oh yeah. I almost forgot:


I hate that stupid ecard.

Also? My house is a wreck, and I haven’t been on top the laundry situation in our home for about… 2 years. This is not a joke. This is a sad, sad truth. But, for my sake, let’s look on the bright side:


I love that ecard.*

Okay, okay. I’m good now. I have no money and my house is as organized as a $5 bin at WalMart but let’s move on. Because I have good things to ramble about too!

For instance, my husband and I celebrated my newly minted first draft Wednesday night by eating way too much Mexican food while the kids were at Awana. What did we talk about over fajitas, chalupas, and copious amounts of chips and queso? Writing, because this was my celebration, dang it. He asked me what my game plan for NaNoWriMo was, and I told him.

Umm, curl into a ball and cry?

No! I mean, uh, rewrite The Warrior! Yes, that’s it. Because I love this story too much to not torture myself with it a bit longer.


This means I’ve been busy thinking and planning and, you know…


So, that’s the big news. NaNoWriMo is coming up. When you see me during November and find that I’m incapable of decent conversation and have dribbles of coffee down my crumpled shirt please cut me some slack. A novel in a month is difficult (especially when you have a job, 3 kids whom you homeschool, and you’re pregnant and scatterbrained enough as it is), and this will be my reality :


I hope you’ll take part in NaNoWriMo with me. Because, well, NANOWRIMO!


I’ll be writing along side two or three friends, my dad, a sister-in-law (I think. Heather. Are you there? Are you writing?), three nieces, and countless internet buddies. YOU COULD TOTALLY JOIN IN.

Think about it.

*If your house is clean, please forgive me. I’m just trying to make myself feel better. Let me grasp my strings, and kudos to you, my tidy reader.

**I know it wasn’t an ecard. My blog; my rules.


do it scared

5 Jun

The phone was ringing, so I checked the caller I.D.


It only took a moment for my mind to put together that ‘N’ and ‘Y’, and as soon as the realization hit, fear took over. I went from just fine to sick-to-my-stomach-with-dread.

NY. New York. It could only mean one thing.

A call from New York might not strike you as fear-inducing, but then you might not be in the process of querying agents either. I am, and I’m not above confessing that I’ve been petrified for most of it. When I hit the ‘send’ button on my first query… I freaked. When I had an agent tell me that she liked my premise and first chapter then request the whole manuscript… I fell on the ground and wanted nothing more than a deep hole to crawl into. When I saw that ‘N’ and that ‘Y’ on my caller I.D…. I wished to myself that I’d never EVER sent out a query letter to begin with.

My hands were shaking. I took the phone. As much as I didn’t want to, I hit the green button.


It was my mother-in-law. She was calling from her home phone. In Minnesota.

I mean, is God getting bored or what?

It took me a good fifteen minutes to recover from my mother-in-law’s phone call, and I realized just how afraid I was to move forward with my book. In church last Sunday we had a guest speaker. He told us that he was once horribly afraid of public speaking. You know what he said he did? He did it scared. His advice to us when we need to do something but are afraid: Do it scared.

Do it scared.

I want an agent. I want a book deal. I love telling stories and want a career in writing books.

Writing comforts me; it also pushes me to do things I’ve never done before.

So, I’m going to do it scared. And you know what? I queried another agent this morning and didn’t freak out at all. Querying no longer feels new or scary. I’m comfortable with it. And I’m trusting that one day I’ll be comfortable on the phone with an agent, an editor, even Harper-freaking-Collins!

Right now I just need to do it scared.


on passion

24 Feb

Have you ever seen someone try to create art without passion? I have.

Dance, music, fine arts, story telling, just to name a few. I’ve seen all these things delivered completely void of ardor. It’s a strange thing for a person to witness. The whole process resembles… someone trying to jump without moving their legs; Or maybe a person trying to catch themselves in a fall without putting out their hands.

They’re trying, but something important is missing. And it shows.

Art requires a certain measure of passion. Without it, it looks awkward to it’s audience. Something stands out as being not quite right. The movements may all be there, but where is the heart and authenticity that makes the creation appealing?

Passion is the breath of our creations. It’s what gives them life.

I had an epiphany the other day as I thought through some of this: Everyday life is the greatest art form of all.

I hope you can see where I’m going with this…