The Glorious Muddle

glimpses of grace in the messiness of life

November 9, 2020

What Some Writers Are Saying

With just one week before my novel releases, I thought you might like a sneak peek at what a few of the authors who endorsed my book said about One Degree of Freedom. Just keep scrolling down to the bottom of the page.

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October 23, 2020

Refreshing My Story

Photo from Pixabay

In anticipation of my new book coming out, I’ve been getting a facelift. No, not that kind of facelift, although I’m sure it might make me look the part of a YA author more than I do.

I needed to refresh my writerly image. It looked and felt old, dry, and tired. In desperate need of change. And so, little by little, I’ve been updating my brand. Giving myself a mini-website facelift. Not a complete overhaul, but just enough to refresh my story.

Finding a Common Thread

With two books to my name, one being fiction and the other nonfiction, I needed to find something to tie them together. What do they have in common?

That’s easy. Eastern Europe, right? Well, Eastern Europe was the link. But then I wrote a prisoner’s story. A prisoner who has nothing to do with Eastern Europe.

So now, what do a young adult novel, a prisoner’s story, and a missionary’s memoir have in common? What in the world connects such diverse types of books?

And then it came to me.

Freedom.

Each story I’ve written, whether made-up or true, is about someone seeking freedom from oppression, whether physical or emotional, political or spiritual. A teenage girl whose life is dictated against her wishes. A prisoner serving life for stealing $116. A people living under the thumb of a dictator.

I changed my tagline to read:

Telling stories to help you soar.

With that common denominator firmly in mind, I changed the intro of my website to convey the benefit the reader will get from my stories. I changed it as follows:

Escape the ordinariness of your everyday life.

Enter a captivating story that’ll inspire you with hope.

Explore a new world–a place you’ve probably never imagined visiting.

My stories will help you do that–whether you’re here because of my YA historical fiction novel One Degree of Freedom (coming out in November), my social justice non-fiction book (on a path to be published soon), or my memoir about my missionary experience in Eastern Europe (published several years ago).

All my life, I’ve been known as a storyteller. My stories will transport you to another world: to see life through the eyes of a Romanian teenager during the Cold War or a lifer in San Quentin with no hope of being released.

Now that I’ve refreshed the text, what about the background photo on my website? The picture is from Romania. That works for the first two books, but what about when the third one comes out?

Well, for now, I’m going to have to live with it. I managed to change the text on my own, but to overhaul the entire website . . . that’s way beyond my budget right now.

But here’s the best part. When I look at the placement of the tagline “telling stories to help you soar,” it’s in the clouds of the photo. Those words are soaring! So for now, I think it works.

I hope you agree!

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October 9, 2020

What Inspired Me

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Writers are often asked what, or who, inspired them to write their story. Some might try to evade that question, make up an answer, or mutter, “I don’t know.” Well, I’m not one of those writers. I know exactly what my why, my inspiration, is. Here’s how it happened:

I snuggled in our cordovan leather chair, notebook and pen in hand, cup of tea beside me, to listen to Neil Gaiman’s podcast, “How Stories Last,” for one of my graduate writing classes. My tea grew cold as I sat up and furiously jotted notes, occasionally pumping my fists in the air as I listened to one of the most brilliant writers of our day.

“Stories matter,” Gaiman said. Even though they’re made up, stories tell the truth–about people and the world. Stories teach you empathy and build character. Good stories should change you.

Gaiman then told a good story. During the Holocaust, his cousin Helen lived in a Polish ghetto. Books were forbidden. She knew that if she was found with a book, she could be killed. Even knowing that, Helen organized a “sewing” class of twenty little girls, where she’d teach them math, grammar, anything, it seemed, but sewing.

One day, somebody slipped her a Polish translation of Margaret Mitchell’s novel Gone with the Wind. Helen blacked out her window and stayed up late into the night to read. When the girls came in the next day, instead of teaching the usual, she told them what happened in the book. Each night, she’d stay up and read; each day, she’d repeat the story.

Gaiman asked her why she risked death—for a story?

Helen answered him, “In that hour, we got away.”

Stories can save your life. Good stories make life worth living.

Almost immediately after Gaiman’s podcast ended, I had the idea for my novel. It came to me so quickly and clearly that I felt it was inspired. I felt it came from God. I knew what I was to write.

An image, locked in my memory from my years in Romania, appeared in laser focus: stacks of paperback books stuffed in every square centimeter of space in wardrobes and cabinets and under beds. I remembered friends telling me how they’d forget about the oppressiveness of their world when they read fiction, even though their list of approved fiction was short. Novels gave them wings to escape.

I quickly typed up the first chapter and handed it in for my assignment. That was in September 2015. My novel will be released in a matter of weeks, in 2020. Five years from idea to fulfillment. That’s a long wait for a dream to come true.

Inspiration started me on my journey, but imagination had to fill out the details and perseverance had to keep me going.

One of my Romanian friends, Mioara, who taught at the university when I lived in her city, shared my love of art and story. We have since lost touch, but many of our conversations were so significant to me that I recorded them in my journal.

Mioara once told me, “Fiction helped me survive a place that squelched individualism and stifled imagination.”

I tried to imagine what life was like for Mioara, as a bright young girl who craved an outlet for beauty and creativity, forced instead to study science, much more sensible and logical and good for the country. I tried to visualize what the college students I met in 1990 had experienced as high school students in the late 1980s. They were the age of the protagonist who was taking shape in my mind, the protagonist you’ll get to meet soon.

My novel, One Degree of Freedom, is the fruit of that imagining.

*To be released November 17. Now available for pre-order.

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September 28, 2020

Changing Seasons, Unchanging Hope

A year in the life of a tree in our front yard

I’m so glad the seasons change. Naturally, I have my favorites (autumn!); everyone does. Each season has aspects I adore and things I’m not very fond of. I’m thankful that we’re not locked in to any one season. Difficult seasons will end. This thought gives me hope.

Sometimes a hard season yields to a glorious one, but at least, it gives way to something else. Perhaps something better than my dreams, something hiding out of view, just around the corner.

The oppressive mugginess of summer has just ended (yay!) and I’m starting to see some vibrant color break out in the trees. As much as I love the crisp air of autumn, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the smell of pumpkin, I always miss sitting on the porch during a summer thunderstorm and those long hours of sunlight that feel like they’ll stretch on forever.

In a few months, autumn, in turn, will give way to winter. I love the peacefulness of a fresh snowfall, the coziness of being bundled up, warm and dry, in front of the fireplace, and the anticipation of Christmas. But I have a friend who says winter feels like death to her.

Whatever you think about winter, it doesn’t stay. It’s not always cold and dark. What feels like death to my friend is actually a long hibernation. The flower bulbs wait patiently in their underground caves, like the bears who awaken when the time is right, to herald spring’s rebirth with all their brilliant color.

This most terrible of years has felt like one long, hard season that just won’t let up. And yet, life has gone on. Spring was just beginning to burst forth when our collective world changed because of the global pandemic. After lockdown all spring, modified lockdown all summer, our third season has begun. And life still hasn’t returned to normal and may not for quite a while.

Don’t you wish you could just wake up from a bad dream and find out it’s January 1, 2020 and we get to have a do-over? But the isolation, sickness and death, injustices and riots, political turmoil, and jobs lost are not the whole story for 2020.

Friends have gotten married.

Babies have been born.

Good things have continued to happen.

Life has continued to happen.

The unchanging God has been present in the darkness, when life has felt like an unending winter. Even in 2020, God has been present. He’s not leaving us.

In Ecclesiastes 3, King Solomon tells us that there is a time for everything under heaven.

A time to give birth and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

This year has been challenging for all of us. But in about three months, it will end. Maybe 2021 will be another hard one. I hope not. You may think I’m too optimistic, but I have to hope that the next year cannot possibly be this hard.

One thing I know, it will be different. A new season will begin. And difficult or not, God will be in it. The seasons change, but he does not.

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September 17, 2020

Decision-Making: Pressure or Peace?

Image by MasterTux from Pixabay

Sometimes I think I must be nuts. One book is about to be released, another one is attracting the interest of several publishing companies, and I’m starting to submit a third book. Any one would be stressful; I’m juggling three at the same time. I long for the day all three are published and the stress is behind me.

So why in the world did I walk away from something that might have relieved some pressure?

In the last couple weeks, two publishers offered contracts for the prisoner memoir I wrote. I declined the first one because the second one seemed like a better deal. But then the second one demanded an immediate decision. And I wasn’t ready.

The pressure was intense. I don’t just sit around waiting for these offers to roll in. I have a part-time job. And major deadlines with my YA book coming out soon. And big decisions my brother and I are facing about my elderly parents’ care. And . . . the list goes on.

At times I felt like my head was about to explode, like a teakettle blowing its steam. I couldn’t handle one more thing! What could I do to make some of this stop? On all those personality tests, I’m labeled decisive. I like the closure of having chosen. I do not enjoy the process or the feeling of limbo. I don’t want things left open to re-negotiate. I like them settled.

The more I prayed about it, the less settled I felt. God promises wisdom when we ask him, but wisdom felt elusive to me. What should I do?

If I say “yes,” won’t I be at peace? Decision made. Isn’t there wisdom in keeping the bird that’s in my hand instead of going after the two in the bush? A sure thing is much better than no thing at all. Right? It took a long time to land the publisher for my YA book. Maybe nobody else will want this one.

But the truth is, we have a story that’s generating a lot of interest. It’s a fantastic story of redemption, and it needs to get out into the world. Maybe there’s something great hidden in that bush that we just haven’t uncovered yet. So if I say “no,” something bigger and better might come along.

I might just have to wait a little longer. Aren’t I the one who waited until I was in my forties to get married? I was willing to pass up some guys (okay, my queue wasn’t crowded with potential husbands, but still) and trust God for the best. Had I changed into a wimp who wanted the easy way out?

Ultimately, I couldn’t make that kind of decision without my co-author’s input. I wrote the book but it’s his life story. I had tried to shield him from the emotional ups and downs of the business deals, reasoning that he’s been incarcerated his entire adult life. I barely understand the publishing business; how could he?

So I talked to my co-author and laid it all out objectively. I thought for sure he would want to take the bird in the hand. When I first told him about these two possibilities, he had been so excited. His story would be published, one way or another.

But Curtis’s answer demonstrated courage and trust. Curtis said he didn’t want to be rushed. He wanted to take his time to read the contract, have his lawyer friend read it, and pray. He told me to tell them, “No, thanks.” He told me to walk away.

“We can wait and trust God,” said the guy who waited in prison 29 years while he trusted God to set him free.

And so I declined the offer. As soon as I did, I realized it’s what I wanted, too. I didn’t appreciate their manipulation and unwillingness to give us more time. But I thought I would do Curtis a favor to take the deal. Instead, the minute I said, “No, thanks,” I felt relief.

I felt peace. God’s peace.

And another thing. I realized I wasn’t treating my co-author like an adult. He needed to be given a chance to make decisions for himself, and I was withholding that from him.

Scary as it is, we are stepping out in faith, trusting that God has something better for our book. I’ll keep you posted!

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