Holidays don’t count, do they? I mean, if I pledge to write every day, I’m still entitled to take holidays off, aren’t I?

Today is Victoria Day in Canada… it’s always the last Monday before May 25, a federal holiday when we commemorate Queen Victoria‘s birthday and also honour the official birthday of the current reigning sovereign, Queen Elizabeth II. I’m not sure how many people could relate the reason behind the holiday, but it’s a long weekend, considered by many to be a precursor of summer, and that’s reason enough to celebrate.

It’s time to dig through the closet for our sandals, clean up the barbecue and set out lawn furniture. This is a NO WORK weekend, right? Then again, if I want to eat, I’m going to have to do a little food prep first… probably take a trip to the market. Oh, and I’ll need to stop for gas. The more I think about it, the more people I realize will still be working this weekend, if only to accommodate those of us who won’t be.

Making an effort!

Before I retired I worked as a professional dog show secretary, and dog shows were often held on holiday weekends. The exhibitors loved it because they were off work and could attend. I, on the other hand, had to put a great deal of effort into getting out of bed at 5:00 a.m. to make sure everything was ready for the start of each day’s event. Anyone who knows me well will remember my infamous fridge magnet: “I would like mornings better if they started at some other time of the day.” I am definitely not a morning person. But I made the effort because people were counting on me.

If it weren’t that I love playing with words and concocting fiction I could think of all kinds of excuses for not writing… not just this weekend, but anytime. I’ll bet you could, too. Procrastination is a ravenous monster; give in to it just a little and it will devour all our good intentions.

So yes, I’ll be writing today. Maybe not a significant chunk of my current w.i.p., but enough to keep the creative juices flowing. First I’ll make notes in my journal, toy with a few phrases in preparation for Wednesday’s blog post, and read over an article that I drafted last week. I may have to stretch myself a bit to find the motivation, but eventually I’ll get into the ‘groove’ and  words will begin to spill out. The reward will be well worth the little extra holiday effort!

Do you take days off from your writing? How do you regain your momentum?

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Springtime brings everything back to life and I relish all the new growth and bright blossoms. Mother’s Day weekend is my traditional time to visit the local nursery and select bedding plants for hanging baskets and deck tubs, plus a few for the garden bed near the front door. Over the next few days I harden them off and usually before the following weekend I begin the process of planting everything.

Yesterday was a perfect planting day, 20C. with hazy sunshine and a forecast for rain showers to follow. I prepared my containers, mixed in some fresh soil and set out the plants. Geraniums, of course. Doesn’t every sun-loving container have to have a bright shot of their colour? A dracena to add height and spiky contrast. A sweet potato vine for each pot, and some cheery calibrachoa. Then I reached for a pot of dark red verbena, and…

Yuck! Where did he come from, I wondered. I doubt he made it to the top level of my deck on his own, so I suspect he was an unpurchased bonus from the nursery. Garden slugs, or gastropod mollusks, are relatively common in damp west coast gardens. I tend to ignore them unless they’re feasting on one of my favourite hostas. But I neither expect nor tolerate them in my deck containers!

I spent some time trying to decide what to do with him. Most gardeners would advocate a quick demise. I suggested he Get. Out. Of. There. while I was still feeling squeamish about it. And it looked like he was trying. However, he was dreadfully slow and I really wanted to get that verbena planted, so I gave him a little help and tossed him over the railing with the flick of my garden trowel.

Later when I went for the hose I discovered he was still where he’d landed… on the gravel path. That’s when I remembered he wouldn’t be able to maneuver across the warm, dry rocks. While slugs aren’t the kind of wildlife that endear themselves to me, I admit to feeling a little guilty for causing him so much discomfort. I flipped him over into the grass and watered him a bit with the hose. I’m not sure, but I think I heard him murmur, “Thanks, chum.” Or maybe it was, “Thanks, chump.” He’ll probably devour a hosta tonight.

It’s amazing how long it can take to get a job done when there are interruptions. I’m sure I lost a good half-hour of planting time thanks to my slimy intruder. (We won’t consider the time spent on trips to the fridge for a Diet Coke, or how often I sat down to take just a few moments’ break.) The containers did eventually get done, but dinner was late.

When I think of interruptions I am reminded of all the excuses I use to procrastinate about writing. Like gardening, I love it, but too often something entices me away and slows the process. My best bet is to allot a specific time, then sit down and  just slug it out. (Is that a pun?)

Some interruptions are easier to deal with than others. How do you handle them during your writing?

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Upside down (trailing) Calibrachoa ‘Sweet Bells’

We had an election in British Columbia yesterday. I’m not one to follow politics doggedly, but I do take the responsibility of voting seriously. I voted, then through the evening watched television coverage of the incoming results.

Going into this election the provincial Liberals were expected to lose. In the end, although it appears she lost in her own riding by a narrow margin, Premier Christy Clark led her party to a resounding win. From the National Post online:
“The Liberals defied common wisdom and months of abysmal polling numbers to win British Columbia’s election Tuesday, a shocking turnaround for a party and a premier who entered the campaign with many observers writing the government’s obituary…B.C.’s Liberal party defied prognosticators and pundits Tuesday to win a fourth consecutive election, an upset that will confound so-called experts for months.”

In his election night speech, defeated NDP leader Adrian Dix said, “Elections belong to the voters, and the voters decided.”

Nobody could have predicted this election’s outcome, although in retrospect there were indications that people hesitated to risk a repeat of the economic downturns experienced during the NDP’s past terms in power. Christy Clark’s persuasive focus on our need for a strong economy carried her party past Dix’s promises of generous spending, to an inevitable conclusion. For whatever reason, nobody saw it coming.

Of course there’s a writing application here. (You knew there would be, didn’t you?) Public reaction to this political upset makes me think of reading suspense novels, mysteries or thrillers, with their unpredictable endings. I love being surprised by an ending, as long as the author has dropped subtle clues along the way. The plot may turn the characters’ lives upside down, but when I flip back to earlier scenes I need to find the logic behind the story’s resolution.

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Are you the kind of reader who likes to peek at the last few pages first, to find out how a story ends? Or do you prefer to be surprised? On the other topic, do you vote in your province’s, state’s or country’s elections?

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To be misunderstood can be the writer’s punishment
for having disturbed the reader’s peace.
The greater the disturbance, the greater the possibility of misunderstanding.

Anatole Broyard

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I read agents’ blogs for several reasons. One is to learn as much as I can about the publishing industry. Another is to learn what separates one agent from another as an author’s representative. I’m naïve enough to believe I’m eventually going to find the agent that God has in mind for me – that one person who believes in my work and wants to help me refine it, then be an advocate for it with publishing houses.

The agent/author relationship strikes me as being much like a marriage. There’s need of good communication, mutual understanding and appreciation, trust and commitment, and the willingness to apologize when necessary.

Until this past weekend I don’t think I’ve ever come across an agent who said, “I messed up royally,” but those are the exact words of Books & Such agent Rachelle Gardner, along with “I completely miscommunicated.” Personally, I didn’t think she messed up at all, but her blog post entitled “Will My Publisher Let Me Self-Publish Too?” in which she attempted “to explain the publishers’ concerns in this new age of hybrid authors who are both traditionally- and self-published,” set off an explosion among her readers. Several of them misunderstood her stance and took offence.

Such an outcry! But rather than show frustration with those who clearly missed her point, with her usual grace Rachelle accepted the blame for miscommunicating and took the time to respond to several commenters and write a second post* to clarify her words and correct the misunderstanding. What a wonderful example of Christian humility and patience!

Human nature often makes us want to defend our choices, to justify and argue. It’s not easy to take criticism, or to say, “I’m sorry. Let me try and get it right this time” when you weren’t wrong in the first place. In an industry that’s all about words, communication and relationships, Rachelle Gardner has demonstrated the qualities that set her apart as an extraordinary agent and author advocate.

What’s the one most important characteristic you would hope to find in an agent representing you and your work?

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Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating
than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

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A tender answer turns away rage,
 but a prickly reply spikes anger.

Proverbs 15:1 (The Voice)

* EXCERPT:

“On Monday I wrote a post in which I attempted to explain the publishers’ concerns in this new age of hybrid authors who are both traditionally- and self-published. But I messed up royally.

“In my effort to illuminate the publisher’s perspective on things, I inadvertently came across as completely defending the publishers’ viewpoints, and somehow being on the side of “Big Pub” (as some commenters put it) rather than being an advocate for authors. That was my mistake. I badly miscommunicated, and I regret it because it led to so much misunderstanding.” (Rachelle Gardner)

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Jody Hedlund

For someone who never used to read Christian fiction, I keep surprising myself by finding an increasing number of Christian novelists on my list of favourite authors. Jody Hedlund topped the list after the release of her debut novel, THE PREACHER’S BRIDE in 2010. Each year since then I have waited impatiently for, and eagerly consumed, her subsequent releases – THE DOCTOR’S LADY in 2011, UNENDING DEVOTION in 2012 and most recently A NOBLE GROOM, launched just last month.

Jody’s stories are historical romances, and the eras she draws from provide fascinating and authentic backdrops for her characters and their complex stories.  A NOBLE GROOM takes place in 1880, mostly in a rural German farming community surrounding Forestville, Michigan.

*

About A NOBLE GROOM, from Jody’s website:

“Recently widowed Annalisa Werner has the feeling her husband was murdered but can’t prove it.

Alone with her young daughter in 1881 Michigan, she has six months left to finish raising the money needed to pay back the land contract her husband purchased, and the land is difficult to toil by herself. She needs a husband. With unmarried men scarce, her father sends a letter to his brother in the Old Country, asking him to find Annalisa a groom.

For nobleman Carl von Reichart, the blade of the guillotine is his fate. He’s been accused and convicted of a serious crime he didn’t commit, and his only escape is to flee to a small German community in Michigan where he’ll be safe. He secures a job on Annalisa’s farm but bumbles through learning about farming and manual labor.

Annalisa senses that Carl is harboring a secret about his past, yet she finds herself drawn to him anyway. He’s gentle, kind, and romantic–unlike any of the men she’s ever known. He begins to restore her faith in the ability to love–but her true groom is still on his way. And time is running out on them all.”

*

MY REVIEW:

Publishers Weekly says, “Hedlund intricately balances romance and drama…” but this is an understatement. More than balancing them, she weaves them together with breath-holding suspense, moments of danger and disaster, and the sweetness of a child’s trust. The sustaining faith of both Annalisa and Carl is evident, but there is no slick dishing out of the Christian message. Instead it plays out subtly in the motives and actions of the characters – a refreshing change from some Christian fiction where the stories are thinly veiled attempts to present salvation as the panacea to every dilemma.

While I found the romantic elements more dominant in A NOBLE GROOM than in Jody’s previous books, it isn’t at the expense of an exciting plot, well-developed characters or a vivid setting. They all entwined to keep me engrossed in the story from beginning to end. I highly recommend it.

The only problem with finishing it so quickly is once again I’m left impatiently waiting for Jody’s next book. REBELLIOUS HEART (where Susanna Smith and Ben Ross are caught up “in a very dangerous fight for justice” in 1763 Massachusetts), isn’t due for release until September. Another four months to wait!

~

Jody Hedlund is represented by Rachelle Gardner of Books & Such Literary Agency.

You can find Jody on her blog, along with reams of information for writers, or on Facebook and  Twitter.

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Our woodlands beckoned today, so I wandered off to the marsh again with camera in hand. The goose’s nest atop the beaver lodge is now empty and I caught the barest glimpse of the geese and at least one gosling in the distant grasses. A couple mallards drifted in and out of sight, too. I sat on my bench in the silence of the sunny afternoon and wondered where all the other wildlife were hiding. We live five minutes from four different lakes, so I suppose they could have been galavanting.

I’d say my afternoon qualified for what Julia Cameron calls an ‘Artist’s Date’… “some small adventure.” In WALKING IN THIS WORLD: THE PRACTICAL ART OF CREATIVITY, she says,

“When I am on an Artist’s Date, I stand a little outside the flow of hurried time. I declare an hour off limits from hurried production and I have the chance to marvel at my own “being” produced. I am just one soul amid so many souls, one life led amid a bouquet of lives. When I step aside from pushing time, from facing the clock, even for just one hour, I feel myself drawn to merciful scale.”

“Nothing is too small,” she adds. And I agree. There is nothing insignificant in the world that surrounds me during my wandering.

“Artists throughout the centuries have talked about inspiration. They have reported the whispers of the divine that came to them when they inclined their ear to listen. Aligning their own creativity with that of their creator, composers exclaimed, ‘Straight away the ideas flew in on me!’ Such ideas can — and do — fly in on all of us. They are the squirrel scampering along the branch. They are the stray pink blossom lighting on a cheekbone. They are the light but definite touch of the unseen world touching our own whenever we are willing to be touched.”

Not everyone has the physical capability necessary for a walk in the woods. Not everyone has the opportunity or the time to take an hour off in the  middle of the afternoon. But I’ve come to believe  we can’t ask our minds to constantly yield ideas for us without regularly restocking their source of creativity. We must be replenished in order to continue producing. It’s important to take time to identify how best to achieve rejuvenation in our circumstance, then make time to accomplish it.

I believe our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual survival depend on it.

Do you agree, or are you more of the ‘push on through the day and stop navel-gazing’ kind of personality?

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“It’s always refreshing to step into another time.”

Diane Lane

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“I have avoided becoming stale by putting a little water on the plate,
lying on the plate, and having myself refreshed in a toaster oven
for 23 minutes once every month.”

Dean Koontz

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“My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.”

Psalm 62:1

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“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.”

Psalm 23:1-3

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This is Zeke. Our grandchildren started out calling her ‘Trooper Zeke McGuire’ until it eventually ended up as just plain Zeke — not that either name was particularly appropriate for a female kitten. Of course at the time of naming, everyone thought she was a he, and by the time it was discovered she wasn’t, nobody was about to change the name.

Zeke has attitude. Oh, I know… you’ll tell me all cats do. I’m not a cat person so you could fool me. My life has been filled with dogs for more than sixty years but there’s never been a cat. Zeke and I have the loosest of relationships. She belongs to my son’s family, and has a chocolate Lab in her household to boss around when she feels the need to play her dominant card.

The Lab barks when she wants into the house. If the cat also happens to want in, when the door opens she darts in ahead of the dog. When Zeke wants in and the dog isn’t around to offer assistance, Zeke backs up to the French doors and thuds a rapid tattoo against them with her back paws! For some reason that reminds me of a jackrabbit. Why couldn’t they have named her Jackie? Or then again, wasn’t it the song about Frosty the Snowman that tootled, “Thumpity-thump-thump, thumpity-thump-thump, look at Frosty go?” Why couldn’t they have named her Frosty?

Zeke’s Chocolate Lab is called ‘Java’. Our own Black Lab is ‘Tynan’, which is Gaelic for ‘the dark one’. No further explanation needed, right? But ‘Zeke’ for a grey, long-haired female house cat???

Finding suitable names for cats or dogs, babies or characters in a novel is a challenge. How can anyone know what will suit them when they first arrive… before they’ve displayed or even developed a personality?

When it comes to characters, I usually have an image in mind. Then it’s a matter of checking the image against a list of potential names — sometimes it’s in my mind, other times it’s in a telephone book, a ‘name your baby’ book, or possibly rolling credits on the movie or television screen. I discard them one by one, depending on who I might have known with a particular name, and whether it suggests either positive or negative connotation or remembered personality traits. It can be a slow process.

I’ve been known to change a character’s name several times in the course of writing a story. That can cause problems of its own. While the ‘search and replace’ function in my word processing software is very handy, it’s not fool proof, as author Denise Jaden reminded me on Facebook yesterday when she said she’d “changed a character’s name using the Find and Replace option in Word, but forgot to add spaces before and after the names. Now I’m coming across words like resebastianable (instead of remarkable). Makes me laugh every time.” Later she added, “ Upon further thought, I think I may keep reSEBASTIANable as my own addition to the English language. I’ll use it whenever anything is extra remarkable.”

How difficult is it for you to find the right name (for a cat, kidlet or character)? Have you ever regretted your choice?

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The Coquihalla Highway was closed Monday due to a major snowfall. As we travelled homeward on Tuesday — the last day of April — a lot of the snow had disappeared, but it certainly didn’t resemble spring. The above verses of Romans (8:25 and 5:4) seemed particularly appropriate. There’s no rushing springtime. We just have to endure and be patient.

Writers know all about endurance and patience so this should be a cinch. In her guest post on Seekerville yesterday Connie Mann talked about endurance and why it’s too soon to give up.

My plans for May are to write and to garden. I have control over the former, but not the latter if the weather doesn’t cooperate. Then again, if it doesn’t, I’ll be more inclined to stay inside and spend more time writing, so I suppose it’s all good. It’ll help me persevere.

Welcome, May! On your way in please collect spring somewhere and deposit it here, too.

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My cyber friends across Canada and the USA have repeatedly mentioned winter’s persistent intrusion into their springtime. Joylene Butler celebrated the ice finally departing from her lake while remembering that only two weeks ago nasty weather gremlins dumped 18″ of fresh snow on her.  Friends from Alberta have left for Mexico to escape the confused weather patterns at home. Spring is supposed to be a time of beginning again, with new growth, daffodils and cherry blossoms, but in some places it doesn’t seem to understand that.

I was away on the weekend, visiting family in the Okanagan, and of course had my camera in hand. Scenery flashed by (it always does at 100 k/hr on the highway) and I snatched photos that began with the rich greens of coastal BC’s developing spring season, moved to include passing snowcapped mountains, and finished with the interior’s barely budding branches.

I’ve decided this year ‘springtime’ is an oxymoron.

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