Dipping Your Toe Into the Pond of Writing

rippling water

Is there a story in you, thrashing around to get out? Is your glass half full or half empty—or is the substance in your glass dancing and whirlpooling?

You could be a writer-in-waiting.

Check out Edie Melson’s post. It offers seven tips on how to be ready when inspiration hits.

Be ready. Offer your impressions to life. Tell your story. There are others who are waiting to read what you have to write.

What’s Your Yardstick?

measure-successHow do you measure success? As an author, do you measure it by the number of your published books? Do you measure it by the size if your Social Media platform?

I am a writer/divorce/brain tumor survivor/child of God. God has blessed me with experiencing many avenues of pain. I pull from these experiences every time I speak to others about the mercy and grace of my Heavenly Father. I understand many of these people. I’ve experienced lots of their types of pain. I know these feelings–as well as the comfort and healing power of God–are real.

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5 of My Favorite Writing Tools

writers-toolsHaving the right tools for writing always helps the process go smoothly. Tools can be anything. Did you start with your favorite pen when you began jotting down your thoughts? Or what about reference books–I thoroughly enjoy thumbing through them even when I’m between projects, just to get the feel of what’s out there. Do you have your favorite software? Do you support Microsoft Word person or Google docs?

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Surviving the Unknown World

August 1983
The cool air and the long rays of morning sun greeted the three of us as we traveled the long driveway. It took everything in me not to start crying.

“Today’s a great day!” I said, with too much pep in my voice. I wanted to make sure I told him all he needed to know for this special day. “You’ll meet new people and it’ll be terrific!”

We continued to walk, hand in hand as we always had in the past. He stopped, looked up into my eye, and with a sober voice, “It is a great day, right, Mommy?”

Little Sis skipped along singing Great day, It’s gonna be a great day … She had no idea the somberness of this moment. But how could she? How could she know what it felt like to lose a baby into an Unknown World?

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Using Words that Count

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Our hearts are full of love as we set a course full of good things when we hold our swaddled babies in our arms. We never want heartache and pain to enter their little worlds.

But it does, and sometimes we can’t save them.

Take a moment and read Beth Miesse Saadati’s latest post, It Shouldn’t Have End This Way: The Epilogue to My Daughter’s Suicide Note. Beth has felt pain no parent should feel. Maybe her words can be used to reach that special person, letting them know that they are loved.

Our children need to hear us–really hear what we say–when we tell them bad situations don’t last forever. They need to know they matter; that they fill our lives with joy every day.

Love you, Beth, and am praying for you and your family..

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How Do You Treat Your Darlings?

Oscar-Wilde (2)Writing is wonderful. And there, you will find darlings–those phrases and word pictures that you dearly love. But we need to watch our relationship with these darlings.

Variations on the “murder your darlings” saying, including “kill your darlings” and “kill your babies,” have been handed down in writing workshops and guides for decades, and almost every major 20th century English author has been cited at one time or another. In addition to the common attribution to Faulkner—“In writing, you must kill all your darlings”—which seems to have been popularized in guides to screenwriting in the 1990s, the advice has also been attributed to Oscar Wilde, Eudora Welty, G.K. Chesterton, “the great master Chekov,” and Stephen King, who wrote, “kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

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Finding Focus

Definition: a state or condition permitting clear perception or understanding

Watching as the US hockey team beat the USSR’s team (Miracle on Ice) at the Lake Placid Olympics in 1980. I was focused.

Watching my firstborn pick up a leaf for the first time. He looked at it, turning it over and over, taking in all its splendor. I had never experienced anything as sacred. I was focused.

Having a doctor hold my hand and say, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Luftig, but you have a tumor on your brain about the size of my fist. Do you want a priest? Could I get the hospital chaplain for you?” Focused here, too.

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Slowing Down with Purpose

slow downRush here. Push to get through there. Check your watch—you still may have time to fit one more stop in before you’re late.

This summer has been packed with activity, going from one state to another visiting family and friends. All of it was good, but somewhere along the way I lost a sense of purpose.

There was a day not too long ago I savored each moment because I didn’t know how many more moments were left for me.

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