Book Contract: How It All Happened

I write Appalachian romance. And if you read last weeks post, know that I recently signed a three book contract for the Cadence of Grace Series with WaterBrook Press. Yippee!

The first book in the series, Be Still My Soul, drops readers in the midst of the Blue Ridge Mountains at the turn of the last century at a time when honor and duty walked the same path as hope and faith. It's my prayer that this love story will touch hearts and encourage readers.

When I originally sent out queries, I knew this series was going to be a tough sell to agents. If I managed to get an agent, I knew it would be an even tougher sell to a publisher. Which is why I am throwing confetti in the air in honor of my fabulous agent, Sandra Bishop (MacGregor Literary). The woman is a rock star and not only saw potential in my story, but had enough faith in it to sign me on and pitch it to publishers.

When she informed me that WaterBrook Press was considering my proposal, I was over the moon. I've long admired their taste in fiction and am a huge fan of titles from authors like Liz Curtis Higgs, Susan Meissner and Kristen Heitzmann. The journey continued for months and months as my proposal went farther down the conveyor belt, constantly under the scrutiny of publishing pros. I was prepared that most likely, nothing would come of it. If by some miracle anything did, they just might want one...maybe two books. But all three?

As the waiting continued, I checked my email every day, chewed my fingernails down to stubs, and wore holes in my jeans for all the time I spent talking to God about it.

Then one day, I got The Call. Hearing my agent's voice on the other line with that mysterious-happy-restrained tone, my heart went into over drive. When she broke the good news that all three books had been chosen for publication, I wanted to cry. I think I might have. I immediately called my husband and of course my mom and I know I did the happy dance. I was REALLY pregnant then and let's just say...no that wasn't an earthquake you felt. :] That was one happy author!

Photo credit: Cold Mountain, 2003

The Winds of Change

It's one of those times of life for me. Great change is on the horizon. I feel it coming. It's exhilarating. Thrilling...and a little... intimidating. 

Why? Because change is different. The old will be no more and the new will come. 

I've been waiting for this for a very long time. It's the type of change I've prayed about, worked like crazy for, and knew that if it was in God's plan, it would eventually come to be. Standing on the threshold of that change fills me with an overwhelming urge to laugh, cry, and to celebrate. The road will be hard and the road will be incredible. There is nothing to do now but continue to place my hand in the Lord's and with the confidence that we're in this together, take one step at a time. I hope you will be with me to share in this journey. Your comments and support mean so much to me!

Tell me, have you experienced change lately? Looking back now, what advice would you have given to yourself as you were on the threshold of that change? 

Photo credit: Pride and Prejudice, 2005

Yea Though I Walk Through The Valley

The LORD is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the LORD

Forever. (Psalms 23)

The 23rd Psalm has never had much impact on me before. Aside from memorizing it as a child with my parents help, I just thought it had something to do with a Shepherd his staff and something about lying beside still waters. I just never quite got it. Until now.

The valley of the shadow of death is a very real place. For those who find themselves in the valley, away from the mountain tops and sunlight, take comfort that it is something we walk through--not around in aimlessly, not back and forth...but through. There is a beginning to it which can feel the darkest, but there is also an end. And though it may feel that way at times, we are never alone.

It is not a place of abandonment--God is there to be our comfort. And though it is so hard to see, we will not be the same as we were in the beginning. With each step, God does a work to transform us. To strengthen us. To bring us closer to him.

To God be the glory.

A Meek and Quiet Spirit

Twice a month I get together with girlfriends of mine and as our ever growing quantity of children play in the yard, we spend a few hours sipping tea, eating homemade cinnamon rolls and talk about whatever book we're reading together. Right now, we are reading Homeschooling With a Meek and Quiet Spirit by Teri Maxwell. What a blessing this book is! And you don't even need to be a home schooling mom to appreciate it!

In her book, Teri describes a meek and quiet spirit--basically meaning, that as mothers, we should strive to be calm, patient and loving as we raise our children--not prone to anger or frustration. For me, it's been an interesting journey--a journey that has changed my life and our whole home. In trying to focus on keeping a meek and quiet spirit with my children, I have seen such changes in my life and I know that my children are the better for it.

But not only does Teri share how we can gain a meek and quiet spirit, she also explains how easy it is to lose one. Yikes! The biggest stumbling block for me: disorganization.

Am I the only mother who has walked into a messy room or passed a junk drawer only to have their blood pressure rise? Ack! Is there no end in sight? Suddenly, the frustration kicks in and our patience and joy---uh, hello? Where did it go?

We're left feeling hopeless.

I have been that person...trying to prepare dinner with a stack of bills at my elbow and a pile of dirty laundry under my feet. So yes, disorganization can be a robber of a meek and quiet spirit.

So what's the solution? I've followed Teri's advice and created a daily schedule. Her schedule is much more detailed than mine, but for now, mine is working very well. I printed it up on a monthly calendar and its taped inside my computer cabinet, a place this writer mama spends a lot of time (hehe). Every day I have only three requirements. Just three things that MUST be done, no exceptions. 1) Bible time with the kids. 2) A chore 3) My son's homeschooling. That's it, pretty simple!

And there is a reason why I have chosen these three tasks.

The homeschooling is a given. My son is still three so we spend about ten to fifteen minutes a day working on letters, numbers or a craft (In an organized, sit down manner). It's just enough time for squirming limbs to sit still, then he's off to play like a rocket. I say organized manner, because he's learning all day long: While we work in the garden, moving firewood with Grandpa, etc.

By including Bible time into our schedule, I can finally carve time out of my day to read the Word and the kids are looking at the pictures in their Bibles along side me. We usually do this before the baby naps as it tends to relax her. We sit for about fifteen minutes on the couch and it doubles as practice for the kids to learn how to sit still. They join us at the beginning of church and have learned to sit through worship pleasantly, then they skip of to nursery for the second half. Also, I had to go to the DMV the other day, and they sat ever so nicely by my side. It was delightful!

One chore is pretty self explanatory. Although we mom's basically clean from morning 'til night, I like to have one important task that must be done each day (I have one day for the bathroom, another for clearing away papers and filing them away, etc.) Thursdays remain open for what I call my "meek and quiet spirit robber day." Whatever around the house is driving me the craziest, gets penciled into that day. My daughters un-closable closet and dresser have been eating at my nerves so I penciled it in last week and today, I completely eliminated the mess...and that meek and quiet spirit robber is no more! Yay! It's a great feeling ;) And my meek and quiet spirit robber chore for next week...let's just say that there's a Land Rover in my driveway that's going to have a showdown with a crazy writer and her shop vac.

But surprisingly enough, there is one task that is not on my schedule...writing. I could write all day if given the chance, but then my children would be running around like wild Amazonian monkeys. I've struggled with this in the past and finally prayed for God to send me a solution. Then somehow, because my schedule is keeping me organized and on track, I have time to write every single day, usually during nap time and it's been a blessing. That worry is lifted from my shoulders and I no longer fear that my writing is taking away from all the other things I should be doing as a stay-at-home-mom. So although I kept my favorite hobby off the schedule to keep it from becoming too much of a priority, the time for it simply fell into place. :)

For more on Teri Maxwell and Homeschooling With a Meek and Quiet Spirit, check out: Titus2.com

Tummy Butterflies and Book Proposals From The SDCWG

This past weekend was the San Diego Christian Writer’s Guild annual Conference—a great place to meet publishers, agents and other authors. We word-nerds tend to get stuck having coffee with our keyboards and characters every day so it’s a refreshing change to hang out with fellow writers who are pursuing the craft of writing and using their gifts for the Lord.

The conference was great this year. Attendees had the pleasure of hearing speakers and authors such as Miles McPherson (Former San Diego’s Charger and Pastor), Lynn Vincent ( New York Times Best selling author. Her collaborative projects include Going Rogue and Same Kind of Different As Me) and many more.

For writers, these conferences are a lot of time spent waiting and preparing for the big day to arrive, then a burst of everything happening at once. That can be very overwhelming. I, for one, was so nervous about my faculty consultation with an agent from one of the best agencies in the biz, I could hardly eat breakfast. And it was a cinnamon roll! But I did force myself to take a few bites and after talking to others around me, I knew I was not the only one who’s nerves were jippity (is that a word? It should be).

So how do we process these moments? How do we let go of our book proposals, while remembering the hours we’ve spent putting them together, and all the times we googled "how to write a book proposal." Not to mention, the months, sometimes years devoted to the shaping of our books, only to have a few minutes to impress an agent or editor with our brilliant pitch and top notch sample chapters. Uh…no pressure.

I was ready to get home, put my feet up, toss my writing portfolio on a VERY high shelf and hang out with my family. But I was in my car, on a highway, and home was a few hours away. Then, while flipping through the radio, I landed on a Christian station and my favorite song was on. It goes something like this: “Savior, He can move the mountains. My God is mighty to save.” So there I was, feeling my energy trickle back and I sat up a little straighter. That’s right, I thought. God can move mountains.

Sometimes we get blessed and the mountain just happens to be our dream come true. Those are special moments in life! Other times, I believe the mountain is our perspective. How many times in life does the situation change completely, not because the dishwasher stopped leaking or the baby magically changed her own diaper, but because our perspective…our attitude changed. Some of the greatest stories I’ve ever read did not end with the protagonist getting exactly what he or she wanted, it ended with the protagonist learning the valuable lesson they were meant to learn—to rely on God.

Kids (and Moms) Say The Darndest Things!

When I pictured motherhood, I imagined an infant in a clean onesie, a stroller that always looked like it came from the factory and sippy cups that never leaked on my couch.
Yeah. Hardy har har.

The baby showers ended in a flurry of pink and blue confetti then in the blink of an eye, my infants grew into chatter boxes...uh, I mean toddlers.

I knew all kids said funny things, that's why then made a tv show about it. So I expected cute nothings coming out of my little one's mouths...things like "Mommy, the clouds look like cotton candy."
"Yes dear." I'd pat their clean, well combed heads. "You're so adorable, innocent and calm."

But no one ever warned me for the insane things they would DO...resulting in the insane comments that would pop out of my mouth.

I'll share a few:

One day I glanced out the window to find my 3 year old with the hose in his hand. "Please stop watering the chickens." He looks at me like, You do it mommy.
So I'm forced to respond. "Yeah, well mommy does it only when the chickens eat her flowers. There's a difference."

And I'll never forget the embarrassing incident at the market when I had to say, "Levi, You don't pat men's tummys in the grocery store." He looks up at me with large, adorable, confused eyes and once out of earshot, I add, "I don't care how big it is."
I never imagined needing to apologize to a red suspendered man. "Sorry sir. I think he was trying to give you a high-five."
I toss a disapproving look to my son. Apparently sometimes temptation is just too much to take.

Then there's kiddo #2. His one-year-old sister is lighting-fast when it comes to stealing his things...the train off his tracks, the sippy cup from his lap. My son knits his eyebrows together and tells her, "No." Then he often turns to me and says, "Let's take her to the dump."

Believe me son, there's days I would like to. The girls lucky she's so cute. I'm certain that's why God made puppies and babies irresistibly adorable--survival.

I'll be out at a yard sale, or the store and a passerbyer might say, "How much for the little girl?" It's a common joke, you know, 99cents for a pound of apples, $2.00 for that old picture frame, $10 dollars for the kid. I pause as temptation pulls my response in two different directions. I look down at my toddler who is chewing on the box of cereal and has thrown her shoe out the cart two isles back.
My response is usual the same. "Depends on the day."
They smile.
"Somedays, she's priceless. Other days I'd trade ya for that Starbucks in your hand."
Which means, all I have to do is tell my mom "It's a half-price day," for her to know that its been busy, hectic, sticky, messy, squealy and stinky. She hugs me and says, "You're a great mom. I'm so glad I'm the grandma."


I'd love to hear the funny things your children...and their mother say, in hopes that I'm not the only one whose lost my mind (and any sliver of coolness I may have had). Share your stories by posting them in the comment box below and we'll all have a laugh :D

A Soft Answer

I had a bit of a rough day yesterday. So I decided to journal about it...on my blog. And since I can write about Vatever I Vant, I figured why not?

Anywho, yesterday definitely won't be filed away as one of my favorite days of all time. In fact, I got my "feel feels" hurt. Thumb + finger to forehead=loser...that sort of feeling. But seriously, it turned my day into a rotten banana.

For anyone who knows me, I'm rather a tender soul (sniff, sniff) and I take things to heart pretty easily. I could never be a movie star. One bad tabloid picture and I'd be draped over the bed, box of Kleenex in hand and a six pack of Hershey bars...well wrappers, strewn about.

It got better, though. A lot better.

First, I had a ridiculously therapeutic hour of sweating my Nike's off at Jazzercise. (Yeah, I Jazzercise and no, there are no headbands or leotards involved anymore.) In fact, we rocked out to some pretty good dance music. Which brings me to my second point. During a lovely cool down to the sound of Michael Bublé, the thought struck me--"Stop fuming about it."

"What?" I glanced at the other Jazzercisers but knew it was just the voice inside me. "Yeah, it's not going to go away and you certainly have no possession of a time machine, nor do you have any friends smart enough to invent one (no offense, friends), so move on." But really, I didn't know how to move on and with this thought process rolling around in my mind, I realized that I was so busy running away from the sliver in the eyes of others, that I smacked right into the log in my own. It really hurt! So I sat there last night, frozen peas pressed to forehead, thinking about what's really the core of all this.

And that's when I realized the lesson I was meant to learn: Sometimes, even as Christians, we forget to be nice.

Gasp! No, it's true. And I found myself very, very at fault of that.

I thought over some of the times that I responded in a rather not-so-nice-way towards others and the sting of shame burned hot. I imagined all the people that I had hurt with my words--words spoken in the heat of anger, without thinking or weighing the consequences of how it would make the other person feel.

Now, the bump on my head was really starting to throb and I knew I needed to ask for God's forgiveness. I did, and the best part is that I know he did. Now about the people I've hurt. My motto in a tough situation has often been "Kill 'em with kindness." I don't always heed that advice (obviously), but from now on, I'm going to pin it to my heart as a reminder that a soft answer turns away wrath and a kind word is sometimes just what someone needs.

After the way I felt yesterday, the icky feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized that I never want to be rude or unkind to anyone again. I don't know if that's actually possible, but then I figured--why not? Isn't that the example that Christ lived out on earth--the one we're supposed to follow?

Besides, it's not as if I witnessed someone running over a basket of newborn kittens. In fact, all those times that I was SOOO offended, weren't really that big of a deal to begin with. I could have shrugged it off, better yet laughed it off, and moved on with kindness towards others. And then of course there's that other golden rule: you can't help what others do, you can only help what you do. Ain't that the truth. I'm going to try, really, really try, to keep Jesus' love as the filter in front of my lips so that I can think BEFORE I speak and treat other's the way I would want to be treated.

Blessings!

Photo credit: Pride and Prejudice, 2005

Encouragement For Mothers: Patience

In honor of mothers day, I would like to share a thought that has been close to my heart for the last few days:

"Why is my patience conditional?"

My relationship with Christ is not conditional.
My relationship with my husband is not conditional.
Therefore my relationship with my children should not be conditional--and one of the most tangible ways a mother demonstrates her love for her children is through patience. Yet I find myself often losing my patience with my children based on factors or conditions that arise throughout the day. Perhaps my daughter dumped out the box of raisins or perhaps my son decided to unroll the toilet paper into the bathtub only to make a wet sopping mess. Even though I have to address them as an authority and correct their behavior, it should always be done through NEVER ENDING patience. How I wish that were the case, because I am ashamed to say, that is sometimes (more often than not--wince) not my resulting attitude.

God handles us, his children with never ending patience. He is perfect at it because he is 1) God and 2) fathomless in all that he does. So since I am called to have a Christ-like mindset and heart, I want to follow in my Father's footsteps. I want to stop losing my patience and start gaining it!

This was my cry last week when life and motherhood were not going my way: "My patience is wearing thin. My patience is wearing thin!" I was frazzled and my children had a front row, interactive seat.

Then the Lord spoke to my heart and He helped change my mindset. This became my prayer: "Lord strengthen my patience, deepen my patience, let it not be conditional. Let my patience be ever growing and steadfast. This is how I can be a good mother to my children." With this prayer filling my heart, my patience suddenly was not a conditional thing, something that swayed with the tides of my emotions. It became steadfast and solid, something my children could depend on as I loved them and nurtured them throughout the day. Then, even when trials arose, I was calm in addressing those trials. I want my little ones to look to me for refuge and stability and they should be able to rest in the security of my patience.

I'm still working on it, but I am determined to hold myself accountable for my behavior and temperament by trying to overcome the little things throughout the day that try and throw me off course. When daily life begins to escalate, and the teakettle of my heart is close to boiling, I don't want the result to be a steaming, fuming mother for my children. I must pause for a moment, remember to pray my little prayer and allow God to do his work in my heart.

Blessings to all you mothers out there. The Lord is watching over you and your little ones. Lean on Him and let Him be your pillar of strength.