Good Beginnings

The last three days of trying to write or post something everyday has been a little trying. I don't feel like I'm a writer and so getting into the discipline of writing everyday has been a struggle. I haven't written any fiction yet, just explanatory blog posts and today i decided to do something a little different. I chose to sit down and write the first few sentences to multiple story lines. Only the first few lines to see if there was one I could pick for NaNo next month, just to get in the swing of things again and I LOVED it. I.LOVED.IT. I had so much fun with a couple of them that I had to force myself to stop at just the first few lines. I can't wait to see who these people are going to be and what obstacles they will have to face, who they love, who they hate. It's going to be awesome! So here for your reading pleasure are 5 firsts. Have a fav? Let me know in the comments below!

1) "It was a dark and stormy night..."

"Dani! You can't start a ghost story like that! It's lame." Eleven year old Alyssa scolded her best friend.

Danielle pointed to the darkened window across the room, where lightening flashed and rumbling thunder shook the panes. "Lys," she responded with a hint of exasperation," It IS a dark and stormy night."

2) I took in the stone facade of my newest school and let out a sigh. My sixth in less than four years. I didn't it expect it to be any different than the previous five. I didn't expect to finish the year here. In the end, we'd be running. Again.

3) "Have you lost your mind?" a deep voice growled behind me. "They will banish you if you challenge them, especially publicly with the others here."

I stared out across the coliseum where the leaders of my pantheon held court for the visiting dignitaries, then turned to face the imposing figure behind me. I reached up to cup his cheek gently and he placed his hand over mine. "They've left me no other choice, Brother. It must be done."

4) His crystal blue eyes shown brightly in the pitch hall as he made his way to the council's meeting chambers. He could easily hear the cacophony within and inwardly winced at the words being tossed about. Reaching the doorway, he stopped just short of going in. He ran his hand through his wavy, dark hair in agitation before schooling his features carefully blank and stepping across the threshold. He glanced around the room and thought one thing, This is going to be bad. Very bad.

5) "Edward Cullen is a stalker," I said just loudly enough to earn me dirty looks from most of the teens, and some of the moms, standing in line near me.

"Ellie," Myra hissed at me.

"What? He followed her around, didn't want her to hang out with other guys, and snuck in her room night after night without her knowing." I shrugged, "Says stalker to me."

Myra crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently, giving me her best "don't make me end you" look. I threw up my arms in defeat, and smiled slightly. "Fine. I won't make any more disparaging remarks about your precious Edward."

Reflections I

Getting back into writing for the first time in decades (?) has certainly had me thinking about the times in my life where it was a major focus. I now wish I had saved some copies of old writings instead of throwing them all away when I moved out of my parents' house. We used to do this thing in my English class called Writer's Studio. We would first do rough drafts in our spirals/3 ring binders, that's right-pen to paper, and then have time to type them into the computer and print them out. My notebook was ALWAYS a disaster. Papers torn out of spirals in no particular order. Multiple copies of the same poem. It was an ink-stained mess! During one of our free writing (as in not directed by way of writing topic) days I was *ahem* inspired by the neatness of my friend's studio. This is the only thing I wrote that I can remember. I'd edit it for a modern twist but not a whole lot has really changed. Here it is with bizarre formatting thrown in per my style back then:

Cluttered

I sit at my desk with a sausage shaped spine,

my studio's cluttered and so is my mind.

Typed papers, garbage and final copies I find,

a cluttered desk; a cluttered mind.

I flip through the papers from the front to the back,

the pages of my story aren't in order

Oh, what a wreck.

I look around and what's this I see? About the person sitting next to me

Their desk is empty, now what a find,

Could an empty desk mean an empty mind?

There it is, an original Heather Nesmith from 1988 when I was in the 6th grade. I sure hope I've gotten better with age ;)

Practice, practice, practice

One of the things I'm struggling with in this new venture is what to choose to write about. I've heard the seemingly simple but oh so true phrases: Write what you love. Write what you know. Write what you would want to read. Write because you have something to say, not because you just want to be heard (OK, I just made that one up but it's applicable). I've also read, just write until the end. Don't go back and edit until you finish. That's like rinsing the dishes and then not putting them into the dishwasher! Pure insanity. It will certainly be the biggest challenge to overcome when I get to NaNoWriMo. Because, it's not a challenge now as I'm sitting here in Starbucks and people watching as I mull over what I next want to say. And now any transition I try and make into "more serious matters" just sounds awkward.

Someone remind me again why I'm doing this? I'm still in the nervous want to throw up but getting kind of excited stage. I'm curious to see how God will use this in my life, because I have no doubt that He has planned this for this time. Yes, He used others to help bring it to fruition (and is continuing to use them with encouragement) but that doesn't make it any less His. I also can't help but ask, why me? What is the story I can tell or have to tell that no one else can? At this point it becomes necessary to fight hard against comparison, perfectionism, and doubt and just be obedient to what I'm being asked to do. Trying to take it just one day at a time and not get overwhelmed seems a next to impossible task.

I wonder about the story I'll write next month. My favorite genre is Young Adult fiction with an emphasis on paranormal/fantasy. It's just so much fun and has endless possibilities (and improbabilities) that you can explore and play with. You can create a world exactly as you want it to be. Need someone to have superpowers? Done! Want to hang out with ghosts? You can! There are absolutely no limits that can be put on the imagination as you create your own lore and birth the characters accordingly. I can give my characters the wisdom I wish I had had at that age. Wisdom of a thirty-four year old, in a 19/20 year old body--girl will be unstoppable!! That's assuming she's not a vamp or wolf or someone who's already lived a really long time and is way smarter than me...hmm...maybe i need to rethink this. ;)

Looks like I ended up with a blog post after all. It's not the length that matters, but the act of putting pen to page, right? Huh. Sounds like a good book blog name...

The New Adventure

Breathe.

I got in a twitter conversation with some authors yesterday. They are all indi-published, brilliant women that I greatly enjoy reading and interacting with. While looking for information for the new book blog I'm starting I came across an article on wordpress--the irony is not lost on me. In my self-appointed role of "positive reinforcer" (that's for you Tammara) I tweeted the article out to the gals. Imagine my surprise when I was asked: are you going to NaNo? In a knee-jerk, immediate response I tweeted back "I'm not a writer." I laughed out loud at the preposterous thought. I'm a reader; two, three books a week THAT'S what I do. It's why I decided to start a book blog. (Yes, I know that involves writing, people, just work with me here. I'm about to have an epiphany.)

And, yet...

When I went back and read the first post on this blog for the tumor-versary. I was stunned. I wrote that?! Those words were too eloquent, too well put together, too...too..too... to have come from me. I certainly don't SPEAK that way. My thoughts aren't close to that cohesive! I'm NOT a writer, am I?

There was this quiet, little voice in my head saying, "You used to be. You used to write everyday. You used to have notebooks full of stories, and poetry. You spent more time inside your own head and imagined worlds then in the real one. You used to spend hours scribbling on a page. What happened?" Have I been neglecting a gift I've been given? Is this why, seemingly out of nowhere, I'm making connections with these authors? Could I do this? Do I even want to? Regardless of want, am I supposed to? Is this why I haven't been able to find a job? Am I crazy for even contemplating this kind of a commitment? I'm not very disciplined; is this even worth trying? What if I don't try? Is this another thing I'm going to attempt and just be mediocre? Am I wasting a talent I'm supposed to be using?

All these questions from 2 simple comments created enough confusion to keep me up late after a LONG day of serving the choir. Enough questions to give me butterflies, and tear up about writing this post, and I am not overtly emotional. Enough questions to resolve me to two things. I'm going to do the Wordpress post a day challenge until November 1, either here or on the new book blog. I'm going to NaNo and have a completed novel by the end of November, which is omg terrifying! I will exercise the atrophied muscle of my creativity and see what comes from it. One day, I might even thank Tammara, Michelle, and Addison for nudging me towards this path--maybe. For now, though, I think I'm going to be sick.

Lucky 13

It's my anniversary! Lucky number 13, so to celebrate I've come up with a list (in no particular order) of 13 reasons why I am still completely in love with my hubby:

1. He is musically talented; I always said I'd marry a guy who could play an instrument. It was kind of a deal breaker if he didn't :)
2. He loves our boys
3. He's my best friend in the whole entire world.
4. He is an exhorter
5. He's ridiculously quick witted and makes me laugh
6. He doesn't pick at me (much) for my strange non-sensical quirks (like hating tomatoes but loving caprese salad)
7. He LOVES Jesus
8. He sings duets with me on road trips--even ones from GLEE
9. He never complains or nags about my less than stellar housekeeping (laundry is a curse from hades)
10. He's not embarrassed by public displays of affection
11. He geeks out over Doctor Who with me
12. He makes sure that as an introvert I get time to myself to recharge.
13. He knows me and Loves me; nothing better than that

"Today I will marry my best friend. The one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love." (from our wedding invite)

Eggplant Parmesan

Special Blog just for Lauren :) (and anyone else who wants a cheater Eggplant parm recipe)

I try to keep recipes as simple as possible since i don't like to spend all day in the kitchen, therefore the sauce is not homemade and the cheese is usually pre-shredded ;) Happy Cooking!

Need:

SMALL eggplant-thinly sliced (otherwise you will be frying FOREVER)

Jar of fave marinara

Shredded Parmesan (or mozzarella--use what you have i say)

Italian Seasoned bread crumbs (could use plain or make your own but this way it's more Italian)

fave vegi oil and butter (yes, butter)

2-3 eggs depending on size of eggplant

To Do:

Heat oven to 350

heat 1T oil & 1T butter in "frying pan"

While oil is heating beat your eggs and start coating your eggplant slices--first in the eggs then in the breadcrumbs

Fry eggplant on each side until golden brown; place on paper towel or paper bag to drain.

Add more oil and butter as needed--this may be after each group depending on pan size and eggplant size/thickness.

Once eggplant is fried and dried, layer bottom only of casserole dish--eggplant can over lap. Cover with thin layer of sauce then grated cheese. Add the next layer of eggplant, sauce, and cheese. Continue until all the eggplant has been used or the dish is full, whichever comes first. :)

Top-most layer should be sauce then cheese, 'cause who wants eggplant on the very top.

Bake about 20m, this is assuming your eggplant slices are almost paper thin (like mine). If you like your slices a little thicker, bake 10m longer.

Finally--keep experimenting if it doesn't come out exactly right (whatever that means) the first time! It's how i came up with this recipe in the first place.

Note: If you want kiddos to help, put the breadcrumbs in a zipper close plastic bag. This way they can shake it up and you have one less step to do yourself. Both my boys eat the heck out of this recipe which is great since they don't like eggplant.

Modification: You could try battering the eggplant, spray both sides with cooking spray, and then baking them to get a similar "fried" effect. I have not yet tried this as I'm still recovering from the last time this recipe was made. If someone out there gives this mod a go, I'd love to know how it turns out!

If you have a question or I wasn't clear on a direction just post in the comments section.

Chicken Wings and the Glory of God's Sovereignty...

Today I pulled a bonehead move. Tomorrow is my company potluck and I thought it would be cool to make some chicken wings and take them to work for lunch.

So I went to Wal-Mart and purchased two bags of chicken wings and a bottle of hot sauce. I placed the hot sauce and a bag of chicken in one sack, and the other bag of chicken in the other sack. I took my receipt and went on my merry way.

I got home and began preparing to make the most awesome chicken wings that Dell Customer Care has ever had the privilege of wrapping their gums around. Lo and behold, though, I found not two bags of chicken. I found only one. FRUSTRATION!

No big deal, though, right? I'll just head back to Wal-Mart, go back to the self checkout I was at, grab my bag of chicken, tell the customer service lady, have a little chuckle, and head back home to make the best chicken wings that Dell Customer Care has ever wrapped their gums around... NOT!

My chicken wasn't at the self checkout register I checked out from. So, I told the young lady who oversees the self check out stand I checked out from. No sir, she hadn't seen them. There was another bag of chicken wings at the stand which she offered me, but I was honest and told her they were not mine. It's OK sir, the service desk will probably just have you grab another bag of chicken wings. No problem! WRONG!

To save time, I grabbed another identical bag of chicken wings and made my way to the service desk. The young lady there talked to her coworker who said I was out of luck. She then proceeded to her supervisor who told her to talk with security who would run the tapes back and see if, indeed, I had left the chicken wings or if I was there to rob them blind of a $9 bag of chicken wings.

Security confirmed it. I purchased both bags of chicken wings and, sure enough, I left a bag behind... which was promptly taken by the person in line behind me. We're sorry sir, but you checked out at the self checkout. This is your own fault and we do not reimburse you for items left at the self checkout.

My flesh cried out... INJUSTICE!!! I paid for them! The person behind me STOLE THEM! Punish THEM, not ME! No dice. I paid $18 for $9 worth of chicken.

In my stewing anger, a small voice whispered, "Sovereignty" to me. I did NOT want to hear that! I want to pray hellfire and brimstone upon the heads of the great beast which is Wal-Mart. How DARE they cheat me out of 9$ of MY hard earned money. Yes, it was my own fault, but why should I have to pay the consequences of my own actions?!?!

Yes, at this point I am being facetious. I'm over my pride, anger, and self righteousness. It really isn't my money. I'm only stewarding it for God and He made the executive decision that someone else needed chicken wings tonight.

The truth is that He is God and I am not. He ordains these things to happen and through my boneheaded mistake, He has blessed someone else with food they would not have had otherwise.

I write this to exhort you. Do not let the enemy steal your joy over $9 of chicken wings. What Satan chose for evil, God redeemed for someone else's good.

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28