ramble
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A Few Kind Words
I opened an email today and the first few words melted my heart. There wasn’t anything amazing, no flowery prose, but a simply sweet greeting. So I noodled over this for a few moments. Why did these few words bring me such a happy feeling?
Because for the slice of time I read that email, I felt important to another person. In today’s world that’s really something. I spend way too much of my life in the grocery store. Everywhere I look there are other shoppers eager to get out the door and employees who just want to finish their shifts and go home. It wasn’t until a truly dark day that I noticed each face I passed seemed to be scowling.
I think we underestimate how our words and attitudes can hurt or heal others. Words are powerful! And a smile may go further than we can see.
But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. Hebrews 3:13 NIV
How can we encourage others?
1. Take the time to smile.
2. Offer help. This could be taking a busy moms kiddos for the day or bringing a meal to a neighbor.
3. Slow down. People are more important than our schedules.
4. Send an unexpected note or email.
5. When you ask someone how they’re doing, listen to the answer.
Has someone done something recently that encouraged you?
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Changing Genres, Changing Style
My current work-in-progress is a story set during the Great Depression. This is the first time I’ve delved into a historical, and I’ve discovered my technique is very different in this genre. Usually I have a plan. It’s not fully formed but there is a basic skeleton to follow. I write each day, and I write fast. Editing is held off until the entire store is written.
But with the historical, I write slowly. I’m tied to the internet and a variety of books so I can appease my constant need to verify facts. Even the editing process is different. I find I must perfect a scene before moving on to the next. I’m sure the rewrites will take only a fraction of the time I’ve spent in the past, so maybe timewise, it will be a wash.
I’m not sure this is all a consequence of a new genre. Maybe it’s me who’s changed. I’m a different person than the one who wrote the last manuscript. In almost every way I’ve been pinched, squeezed and molded. Today, I have a deeper understanding for others and their struggles, which allows me to extend mercy and grace and receive it for myself. I hope that comes out in Anne’s story.
Thanks for reading as I ramble on again! 🙂
Writers, does your style change when you switch genres?
Has your style changed over time?
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Snow Day Memories
Sure doesn’t look much like spring in my neck of the woods. We woke up to a blanket of snow. It’s gorgeous! And as a bonus, the powers in the school district actually canceled school. You can imagine the rejoicing. Even my younger kiddos who are still homeschooled did a few jumps for joy. Though I would have given them time to play in the snow, the girls were thrilled that their brothers could stay home too.
When I was in middle school, I lived with my dad and his family. Our house was at a high elevation and snow came on thick. One of my greatest memories are of sledding down the steep driveway on sheets of aluminum (I think that’s what it was) recycled from our local newspaper printer.
The road would mash down until it became like ice allowing us to pick up speed. Eventually the aluminum would wear away and our bottoms became the sled.
When our hands were frozen and the plastic bags in our boots had given out and let water in, we’d hike back to the house and strip off the layers of wet clothes. Once bundled up in warm sweat suits, we’d sip hot chocolate and watch the snow from the window.
What do you remember from snow days?
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First Day of Spring
Today marks the first day of a new spring. It brings to mind gardens and hikes, sunshine and warmth. As I write the wind howls and rain slaps my windows. I walked out to the garden area yesterday and had to step carefully. One wrong move and I could lose a shoe in the mud. And that’s just our yard.
So, today marks the change of season, and even though we don’t see the ideal picture here in Oregon, spring still brings hope. There will be betters days. Winter has to come to an end, even here. And there are signs. The grass is growing because the temperatures have begun to rise. Soon my yard will be a jungle. The grass always gets out of control while we wait for the ground to dry up enough to mow.
Lambs race after each other in our pasture. Geese make their way north with short rests in the field next to us. We have daffodils popping up all over our property. The camellias are in bloom, and even the bleeding hearts are starting to grow again.
Life moves on. And thank God for that!
