Tuesday, July 12, 2011

In the Midst of Chaos...

...is joy.

Staff changes, job uncertainty, financial woes, challenging health issues, housework back-up, and skittish technological devices. They clamor for front row life billing, but only because they scream so loudly, like a two-year-old in a tantrum fit.

Yet today has been full of sweet blessings: a personalized song link on Facebook, throwing newspapers to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, a quick ride to the grocery store with my husband, a pleasant voice on the other end of the phone, a mid-morning chat with a good friend, a purring cat jumping into my lap for some loving (and another one, jealous, trying to edge her out), my grandson trailing after my fifteen year old youngest son and chatting away in his pretty toddler voice (and remembering how my son did the same to his oldest siblings), a hot cup of coffee, and a cold mug of ice water.

Life is good. Have a terrific day!!!
Have a wonderful day!!!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Have Flashdrive, Will Travel

Newspaper routes thrown, two meetings accomplished, voice mail, email, and Facebook messages checked, I read the thunderstorm warning in my News Feed from the Joliet Weather Center. I glance out my attic window. Humid, but sunny. By the time I finished one story on deadline and an interview, it would be too hot for a walk.

Shoot!

Timothy was driving Rebekah to a weeklong culinary class at Joliet Junior College and had just pulled out of the driveway when the sky blackened and the wind kicked up. I quickly called him. "Bad weather coming in. Be careful."

"Sunny skies where I'm heading," Timothy said.

Good. They would beat it. I opened "new document," typed the first letter and felt a huge blast through my window. Then all went black. We had no power. Great. Staff changes at the newspaper over the weekend meant my new contact's number had not yet made it into my cell phone. It was on my office phone, yes, but that one was dead.

After Timothy dropped Rebekah off at school, he called to let me know she had made to class on time. So, I asked if he could send email from his new phone. He could, but didn't really know how. So I called Bryony's web administrator, Sarah Stegall, who lives out of state.

"Can you email my editor?" I asked.

I gave her the address and a few bullet points, then called my mother who lived in the next town. She still had power and was more than happy to share her electricity and internet service. So I packed my notes and flashdrive and headed over.

After I met the most immediate deadlines, I spent a deligthful afternoon catching up on an editing project, free from phone calls, instant messages, texts, and compulsive checking of my news feed. Later, my parents invited me to dinner and even made sure Timothy and Rebekah ate when they returned from cleaning the warehouse. I called Christopher and asked him to buy dinner for everyone else. Daniel even assumed my household chores.

With an editor going on vacation and needing her upcoming pages filled before she left, the last couple of weeks were busier and crazier than usual. Then I learned my new contact would be on vacation next week, so she needs her stories stockpiled, too. Throw a few family emergencies in the mix, tack on several thousand extra sets of weekend inserts (It's vacation time  for newspaper carriers, too), and, although thankful for much work, my mind felt flat and body longed for a break.

It came today in the form of a power outage. Coincidence or providence?

You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Philippians 4: 19.

Friday, July 8, 2011

The Griffon and the Minor Canon

The Griffin and the Minor Canon by Frank Stockton (1834-1902) was a story Bryony might have read growing up under the minister's care. The town church boasted a terrifying stone carving of a Griffin. When a Griffin living in the wild, who has also never seen his reflection, comes to view the statue, the town goes into frenzy.

Minor Canon was sent to call on the Griffin and couldn't seem to part with him once met. The higher priests in the church had fled upon the Griffin's arrival leaving Minor Canon to deal with the unpleasant situation. What happens after is surprising. Read it for free here: http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/griffin.html

Sarah Stegall

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Impatient and Stalling

Last night at dinner, my oldest son called dibs on the first copy of Bryony's prequel when it's done.

I laughed. I've barely begun it.

"I'll be sending it to you from the nursing home," I said.

He pointed his fork at at me. "So hurry up and write it."

If only it was that simple.

Much has changed since I wrote the first three drafts of the Bryony series. My schedule's tighter with paying jobs (a good thing), while my household assistances (i.e. children) are aging out of their understudy roles and into their adult lives. All the manuscript editing that accompanies a novel on its way to publication eats up plenty of time, too.

While those are good reasons (excuses?) for not spending entire weekends before my attic desktop in an over-caffeinated fictional bliss, a harder truth eyeballs me and says, "You're afraid to start over."

Not afraid, I argue back. But definitely hesitant.

It's been over a year since I completed Bryony's third book, which ends the series, but in the meantime, I've done a lot of editing and rejoiced in the polishing of my work. Once you've experienced the fun of entertaining someone with your words, it's hard to step back and write something really awful, but that's foundational nature of first drafts. That's why their called "first." And "drafts."

And while my writing assignments require I write first drafts all day long, the material, at its source, is not mine. It doesn't spring from my imagination. Digesting your own bad writing is truly a humbling experience, and one I've not had to face for some time.

When ideas overflow and spill out, I become impatient at a life that doesn't allow for spontaneous composing when the muse demands it. When I do carve out that time and creativity doesn't immediately flow, I can easily fill those hours with other writing projects and feel justified doing so.

The answer? Not sure, but I know one thing. I WILL eventually write it.

Because I have to.







Friday, July 1, 2011

"We Are Seven" by William Wordsworth

We Are Seven

By William Wordsworth 1770–1850


A Victorian poet wonderfully expresses my feeling of family and eternity.



———A simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?


I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.


She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.


“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.


“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.


“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”


“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”


Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”


“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.


“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.


“And often after sun-set, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.


“The first that dies was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.


“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.


“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”


“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”


“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

’Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”





Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Song #11 - Wedding Song First Dance - "To Say I Do" by James Onohan

A Most Profitable Conversation

First meeting this morning: 4:30 a.m., and a darn good meeting it was, too.

Back in January, I noticed the Bryony team needed another member. I prayed for guidance, asked God to please deliver, and even checked out a few possiblities, then waited to see if those doors would open or close.

A few weeks ago, someone I had not considered for the role knocked on my virtual door and made the inquiry. Now, although nothing is official yet--since some of it hinges on his finishing Bryony (He's read one-third and likes it so far, but it's early....) and deciding for sure if that's a project for him--we've had one dynamic meeting and a couple of productive phone calls, including the one a few hours ago.

So why am I considering someone I had not approached?

1) He brings some interesting marketing qualities to the table.

2) He's interested in collaborating with the existing Bryony team members.

3) He's followed the Bryony website, blog, Facebook, etc., etc., etc., and so was already familiar with the project.

4) He's proactive. We have a "maybe" deal, but he has already sent out feelers and done some homework.

5) Lastly...and to me, most importantly...he came with three qualities only God could have arranged which, when put together, form something greater than a coincidence. No matter how prepared he was to list the reasons why we should work together, he couldn't have contrived this last. (No, I'm not saying, either, but they concern details from the third book in the Bryony series, first draft completed over a year ago).

Basically, here's how I work. If an opportunity feels like it's coming from God, I trust Him enough to take a chance. If I'm wrong, He'll slam the window shut and open another. God's plan is worth a a few pinched fingers.

"The LORD sees not as man sees; for man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." Samuel 16:7.



Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Meet Kathy Feeney-Pilarcik, Freelance Make-Up Artist, Part 2

In a continuation from yesterday's interview, Kathy Feeney-Pilarcik, a freelance make-up artist with twelve years experience, explains her make-over philosophy.


5) When performing a make-over, how do you determine what's right for a particular client?

"LISTEN to the client's needs and wants! It's not what I think that matters! It's what the client is comfortable with. I'm big on the complexion looking smooth, even, and bright. The intensity of eyes and lips is up to the client."


6) What if the client has opposing ideas?

"The client is ALWAYS right! women know themselves! I totally respect that! I'm ALWAYS listening...."


7) What is the number one make-up error most women make?

"Eye makeup is a big problem: bad technique or lining only the bottom of the eye, WRONG! If you're going to pick a side to line, always line the top! Oooohh, and ENOUGH with the brownish berry lip color! Too harsh and it makes your teeth look yellow !"


8) I understand you do not charge for all make-up services.

"I offer free makeup for any chemotherapy patients suffering from a loss of lashes and brows. I lost my mother to cancer and I truly want to help ANYONE in need of help with this!"


Contact Kathy Feeney-Pilarcik at edjoeyp@aol.com



Monday, June 27, 2011

Meet Kathy Feeney-Pilarcik, Freelance Make-Up Artist, Part 1

This past spring, Bryony's director of marketing, Dulcinea Hawksworth, decided the author could use a little editing, too. So Dulcinea scheduled a makeover with Kathy Feeney-Pilarcik, a freelance make-up artist with twelve years experience.

Today, Kathy shares "experience and excuses."


1) How did you learn your techniques?

"I've been getting informational books since I was about fifteen years old. The first artist's book was by Way Bandy (He died of AIDS years ago), and I also have three books by Bobby Brown and one book by Trish McEvoy."


2) What about practical experience?

"The other work has all been by the seat of my pants and hard knocks and EXPERIENCE! In my opinion, the only way you learn is by practicing on many different faces, colors, and complexions. You have to keep in my mind the client's personal style, and you have to LISTEN to what they want and need."


3) What's your favorite make-up line?

"I use makeup from SO many different lines. Some of the cheaper brands are MUCH underestimated, but the expensive lines tend to be more highly pigmented and easier for ME to work with. Cheaper brands tend to make their pigments light, making it easier for the layman."


4) Why do you think most women can benefit from make-up?

"EVERYONE feels better when they feel pretty. I've heard ALL the excuses, (I dont have time (BS, GET UP five minutes earlier). I can teach a five-minute makeup just to brighten and even out skin tone, VERY easy, just a little effort can make you feel totally re-juvenated!!"

Friday, June 24, 2011

"The Dinner Party," by Mona Gardner

A dinner party debate regarding who is braver in the face of danger, men or women, is settled in a surprising way when a cobra enters the room.

Read The Dinner Party by Mona Gardner online. First published in The Saturday Review, 1942.