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My Dad died on April 29, 2012, in the early morning. Mom found him in bed that Sunday morning and we think he had gone in his sleep. His eyes were closed and he had a strange smile on his face. Saturday the 28^th was ideal. I had received what I considered good news the day before and we were all happy, going grocery shopping, talking about buying a new grill because the old one was shot. Nothing out of the ordinary happened and for Sunday Dad planned to make a big meal like he always did. Evidently something was really wrong with him; we suspect he had a heart attack and it took him quickly. The visitation was on May 2^nd and the funeral was the 3^rd. He was only 60 years old.

Our faith in Christ is carrying us through and consoles me because I know where Dad is. Knowing that I will see him again someday comforts me.

I wish I could write more openly on this blog about how I feel, but my words feel forced. To go in depth about it doesn’t seem right to me. I can only say this: life will never be the same again.

To anyone who has prayed for us, I sincerely thank you and ask for God to bless you. 

Crazy in Indiana

Yeah, what else is new? Life is crazy as all get-out. For the last month or so I have juggled like five different writing projects. I love it! I am feeling more productive than ever. A couple of months ago, I had read an old copy of Family Circle and learned that they held an annual writing contest. So, I wrote a story for it and sent it off, with my eyes, fingers and toes crossed! Then, I read that Writer’s Digest also has an annual contest and wrote a story specifically for that. There is an entry fee of $25.00 and I heard on a writer’s forum that in 2009, that at least 8,000 people competed. It’s all very daunting. I go back and forth on what to do. I don’t want to see my money wasted, but if I place, it will all be worth it. Decisions, decisions… The deadline is May 15th. I’ll probably stew about this and on the 14th send it out. That’s how I usually operate. Then I visited one of my favorite websites, charitysplace.com and on the back page of her latest issue of Femnista, there were two openings left to write an article about a favorite literary heroine and the creator. I took a chance and asked if I could write one of the articles, and listed three heroines and their respective authors. Finally, I settled on Scout Finch and Harper Lee. And what do you know, for a first attempt at a biographical piece/essay, I nailed it. The article will appear in the June/July issue of Femnista. Super excited!!!! Happy, happy, joy, joy!!! And, as I speak (or should I say, write) an agent is looking over WIP #1. At first she rejected it out right, but after I asked her why, she suggested I revise it and then send it to her again. And I did. So, I am on pins and needles. I try not to slip into the abyss of false hope and keep my expectations low. Other than that, I don’t have much to report. Well, last Tuesday I attended a banquet for the Crisis Pregnancy Center. I had never been to a benefit before. Very awesome and I did really well there. In the past I had chronic anxiety attacks and new places/big buildings tended to make me nervous. I still do have anxiety attacks, but for some reason, I can control them better (or have a better reaction). The panic started to build as I entered the Hulman Center, but once I was seated, I calmed down. So that’s a huge praise. It’s nice to finally live life and not be confined by nonexistent boundaries. Anyway, that’s it for my monthly update. Until next time!

Wax Figure of Anne Frank

Full Article Here

Recently a wax figure of Anne Frank was created. The link above leads to the full article and shows all the photos of it. Here are a few of the photos here. The resemblance between the figure and the real Anne Frank is astounding. It makes me want to cry.


-- A photograph of the real Anne Frank

Life Update

I have slacked off from blogging. I’m lucky if I do one post a month. Life is just crazy, you know. There is the house to take care of (not doing such a great job at that though) and four animals, my aunt, and a few hobbies that I have. Then I am working with my two novels: the first WIP I am promoting to secure an agent for and I am doing my level best to complete the second WIP. The hunt for an agent continues. WIP #1 was originally written so that I may have a foot in the door of the publishing world. Along the way I fell in love with it and consider it my story-of-convenience (which is ironic, because the novel is about two individuals who enter into a courtship/marriage-of-convenience). I had thought it would be snatched up right away since the plot, themes and characters correspond well with everything else that is out there in the Christian market. To my surprise, most of the Christian agents have no interest in it. It is the secular agents that have been more compassionate and kind about it.

The second WIP is at the half-way point, I think. As for quality of writing, it has surpassed the first. It is a story I am passionate about. I want to finish it to see it published, but in a way I will hate to see it end because I love it so much. So, I am toying with the idea of sequels for it. It has to have a solid plot though, that way it will live up to its predecessor. Anyway, WIP #2 will be difficult to market. There are subtle Christian themes woven throughout the story, but the plot deals with spousal abuse, violence, marital rape and adultery. Not the typical Christian romance, right?

I’d like to do a blog post about the books I have read within the last year or two. If only I can get around to it. Recently I finished “Vanity Fair,” by William Makepeace Thackery. Super great! Rebecca Sharp makes a brilliant anti-heroine, even more so than Scarlet O’Hara. In my person opinion, Scarlet was too abrasive and annoying. I know that was part of her disposition and she couldn’t be any other way. But Rebecca Sharp is so manipulative and conniving, that she is almost likeable. She constantly slips into trouble, makes trouble and loves trouble, but somehow gets out by the skin of her teeth. Just when you think she has sank too low into the abyss; she rises up out of it. Right now I am reading “The Portrait of a Lady,” by Henry James. His style is different than what I am accustomed to, but it is enjoyable. His heroine Isabel Archer is endearing. I like good, strong heroines who know their own mind. They may have their flaws and stumble into all sorts of mischief, but it doubles the pleasure to watch them repent and learn their lesson.

I can’t believe “Downton Abbey: Season 2” is already over! I spent the last year sniffing around the internet, looking for spoilers. When the season debuted here in the US, I knew most of what was going to happen and it spoiled most of the surprise. This year I am going to do my best to avoid websites, articles and pictures that will give away the plot. Most of my favorites are still my favorites: Anna and Bates, Dowager Countess, Matthew, Thomas and O’Brien. Interesting enough, my appreciation of Mary and Edith raised and my respect for Sybil and Branson vanished. Last season Sybil was my favorite of the Crawley daughters and I thought her little romance/friendship with Branson was cute. But this season they irritated me. I had thought that when news of the Romanov massacre had come to light, that Branson might condemn what the Bolsheviks did. He merely shrugged it off as a worthy sacrifice for the cause, and Sybil said nothing. So, they are no longer my favorites. And Lord Grantham, what is wrong with you? What is with the mid-life crises dalliance with the maid? Well, at least you showed Mary mercy for her mistake. “Downton Abbey” is such a soap opera, but I love it! Can’t wait until next January! Why, oh, why can’t it air here in September as well?

Saved by a Book

A few months ago, in October or November, I woke up to find pieces of plaster on my bedroom floor. From what I could see, my ceiling and wall were intact. My sister came in and looked around, everything was fine. We shrugged it off and when I had the chance, I vacuumed it up.

Fast forward to last Sunday afternoon. I was putting things that belonged to my grandparents away in my cedar chest when I find a hole in the wall, in between it and my little bookshelf! Now how did that get there? I wondered to myself. Had I done something and not realized it? Maybe slept walked and did some damage? Immediately the mystery of the plaster on my floor had been solved, but not how that hole ended up there. I went to tell my parents and the whole family came up to inspect it.

First Mom wondered if it a woodpecker had made it and I was thinking termites. Dad said that a woodpecker couldn’t have penetrated the siding and that termites don’t leave such a precise hole. He was convinced that something, like a shell had come straight through, but we couldn’t find any shells. From the way the hole was angled, we figured out that it went through the bookcase.

I moved my books and there was little hole in the back of my bookcase and a smashed up slug, the kind used for hunting deer! Then looking at my books, one of my favorites, “Winter is Past,” by Ruth Axtell Morren, is a little smashed up and discolored. Now I can literally say that her book left a lasting impact on me, in my ways in one. And it saved my life.

From what we come up with, by the way the hole is positioned; it was from a shotgun some two hundred feet away (just an estimate). And it happened while I was sleeping in my bed, directly across the room.

Naturally, I give thanks to God and credit Him as the One who truly protected me. It really brings things into perspective for me. Despite all of my doubts and confusion about life, He has a plan.

The hole in the wall will be eventually repaired, but I’m keeping my bookshelf as is. The book will be cherished always and that shell will be saved too.

Pity-Party Post

Disclaimer: As the title implies, this is a pity-party post, so you might want to skip this if you would rather not listen to whining, complaints and lamentations. But then what is a blog for if not that? Anyway, here it goes.

Last July I sent my current WIP to an agent and received what I thought was constructive criticism and encouragement. Agent told me that my work needed polishing/revisions but that it was lovely, it had potential and it could be unique and that after I did some more, to feel free and resubmit it to her. I was really appreciative and bursting with excitement. Therefore I spent the last six months laboring over my WIP and I have to say, it is much improved. It still may not be ready, but it is far better than it was. I decided to take Agent up on her word and resubmitted it. She replied that she did not remember me and did I possibly send it to one of her co-workers? She said that she would be willing to look over three chapters and a synopsis. My feelings were a little hurt, but I reminded myself that Agent probably receives thousands of queries a year and doesn’t recall all of them. I sent her the chapters and synopsis and her response was that there is now too much “telling” for her and that nothing really happens until page six and then it is a little later until there is more action. Ah, but there is good news, she continues. There are several publishers out there that do not require an agent and she mentions a few and offers her best wishes…blah, blah, blah.

As I have said, I can accept criticism and actually embrace it. If the first six pages of my chapter one are dull, I can improve it and rearrange it. What irks me is how she just brushed me off. I mean, what she said to me in July, was that just a generic reply that she sends to all aspiring authors that she is not interested in? If she really wasn’t interested, then she didn’t have to lead me on. I’m the kind of writer (and person) that when someone throws me crumbs, I pick up each and every crumb and gobble them down as fast as possible.

So now I feel like I’m back at square one. I’ll probably do a little more revising and then maybe by February I’ll have worked up the courage to send if off to some agents. We’ll see. I guess what depresses me most about this was that I thought that this was it. That maybe I really found someone else out there that likes my work too. I just feel like I can’t catch a break. I take two steps forward and get knocked five steps back.

The End of Yet Another Year

I always suffer from the end-of-the-year blahs. I look back on the last twelve months and there are always some successes, but on the whole I feel like a failure. This pity-party doesn’t last long though. By the beginning of January, I feel rejuvenated and ready to take on the New Year.

There have been a couple of developments in my life since I last wrote. My family and I are attending a new church. It’s nice, and bigger than what we are use to. I can’t say I have any major complaints about it, it’s just missing something, but it will suffice for now.

Today is my 25th birthday. I think I have finally entered into the stage of my life where I feel like a full-fledged woman, rather than a girl. Still, I am left feeling lacking. When I was younger, I had thought that by the time I was 25 years old, that I would have a career and have done something worthwhile. Well, as you can see, the blahs are eating me up inside. Anyway, today I went to Wal-Mart to buy a couple of dresses and a skirt and then out to eat with my family. We took a trip to the mall, where I had my ears pierced for the first time. Then we stopped at the Christian bookstore and I bought a new Bible. All in all, its been a good birthday.

The one novel I have been laboring on for the last two years might be finished in another draft or two. Maybe by February it will be completed and I can contact the agents again. As for my second novel, the one set in the 1840’s, it will take some time before I show it to anyone, but I am extremely proud of it.