Resuming the Mission

During the last few weeks of "down time" I have realized more than ever that this desire to write fiction is not going away. I have been reminded over and over that everything happens in God's time. All I have been doing up until now has been valuable. I'm very happy with my marriage, my children, my grand-children, my job, my work with the Church, the column I write each month. But, I just can't continue to let the stories in my head just sit there, on random pieces of paper, in random folders in My Documents file.

I'm looking for input from anyone who understands this need to write. I'll give you a brief outline of where I am, and ask you to make suggestions on the next step. I'll sort through the ideas, and pray about it, and figure out what will be best for me. After all, what works for someone else won't necessarily be the right way to go. But, neither is sitting here doing nothing with this talent God has given me. I know that sounds like I'm bragging, but I'm not. It's not an earth-shaking, instant best seller that will change the world, but it's there, such as it is, and I should be using it to help someone else. So, your input is very much welcomed!

•    I am not a newby. I've completed three manuscripts. One, a teen mystery/romance called Butterfly Summer. The second, a contemporary romance called Crossroads, written from both the hero's and the heroine's POV and the third, a historical called In Pastures Green based on my family's stories from the late eighteen hundreds in Eastern Kansas. All have been submitted to contests,and done fairly well, though none have won first place. Crossroads was turned down by Heartsong presents a few years ago.


• I have been a member in the past of a local writer's group that is still active. Fiction Writers of Central Arkansas  holds monthly meetings, and would probably give me an opportunity to be in a face to face critique group, although not all write in the same genre (Christian Fiction) that I'm trying to break into.


• I am not currently a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, because I was not utilizing their tools, and just deleting most of the messages in my inbox. I have attended one conference in Nashville a few years ago, but this was a tremendous expense for me, and it's hard to justify a vacation that doesn't really allow much time with my husband.


• I will be retiring from the State of Arkansas in two and a half years, and should be able to substitute teach enough to make some money, hopefully allowing some time to devote to writing.


• I have a current work in progress that is classified as Women's Fiction and has received favorable comments from at least one published author. I will soon have that one completed, and ready for first re-write.

So- what do you think? Do I concentrate on finishing my WIP, take it to a critique group, get it professionally edited (I have a friend who can do that), and start sending it out? Do I resurrect the old already completed projects and start shopping them around? Is there value in getting back with ACFW? Should I rejoin my local all-genre group?

You can see what a quandry I'm in. My time will be limited till I retire, so I need to make the best use of it. Thanks for any suggestions you may have.

Blessings on your own writing journey!

Jenny

Christmas Regardless

It just wouldn’t be Christmas without  . . .  You fill in the blank. There are so many little parts that come together to form our holiday memories. These things become so special, that we think we can’t celebrate without them.

My husband and I were both raised with live Christmas trees in our house every year. For him, the decorating process started with a trip to the woods to cut down a fresh cedar tree, which grow in abundance in the Ouachita area. As a small-town girl, a trip to the local tree lot served the same purpose. When we married, it was a given that our living room would have to be rearranged to make a spot for this traditional symbol of celebration. More memorable than any other, though was the last live tree we had as a couple.

That year, James and his best friend (and best man at our wedding), Raymond traveled to the family’s property in Perry County. After hiking around to find two of the best specimens, they were enjoying the camaraderie. Until the truck got stuck. We’re not talking about a temporary, spin your wheels event here. This truck was down in the mud with no hope of emerging stuck. Raymond became acquainted with many of James’ relatives that day, as all tried everything they could to dislodge the vehicle and get it back on the road. The little cabin on the property was not heated, so between tries, the only way to warm up was for the two young men to sit with their feet propped on the open electric oven door. Meanwhile, Raymond’s new wife and I were in pre-cell phone oblivion, happily baking cookies at home. As I remember, James didn’t even bring our last live tree in the house when he finally arrived. It was propped rather unceremoniously in the front yard. We went to Wal-Mart and purchased our first artificial model.

At my Granny’s house, the tree was quite different. Purchased in the early sixties, it was the shiny aluminum table top variety. It was decorated rather sparsely, with of course no electric lights and no need for tinsel. The magic happened at night, when the accompanying color wheel was plugged in, and it went through variations of red, green, blue, and gold. Of course, for me and my cousins, the tree was secondary to the pile of presents that surrounded and sometimes obscured it completely. The first Christmas she didn’t put that tree up was a huge adjustment for me, and I miss it, along with the angel-topped wind-up music box, and the tinkling candle-powered mobile that always sat at a safe distance.

For children, the type of tree may not be the most important memory at all. Our oldest grandson has a special favorite. Each time he comes to our house, he looks for Tigger in a box. When he doesn’t find it, we discuss the concept of “seasonal” decorations, and how Tigger will be displayed at the appropriate time.  This cheerful contraption sits on my dining room hutch, looking like an innocent but brightly decorated package. By pressing the button, you get the Disney version of A.A. Milne’s bouncy character with such gems of wisdom as “Hello, I’m your Christ-ee-mas present”, as he pops up and then back inside the box with a snap. The two younger grands have enjoyed this as well, and consequently, the mechanical parts are wearing out.  It soon may be time to retire Tigger and start a new tradition, form some new memories.

Years go by, celebrations change. We miss some faces around the tree. But through it all, Christmas continues. Whether we celebrate on the 24^th, the 25^th, or even some other day, the meaning and reason for it all remains constant. Once upon a time, seeing our desperate need, God decided to come down, in the person of His son, to help us. We celebrate, the hope, the assurance that we can find our way Home at the end of our journey. Christmas happens, no matter what. No matter how, or even if, we choose to celebrate. God’s wonderful gift is there for all. Have a truly blessed Christmas.