Deborah O’Carroll long ago (back in September 2015–yikes!) tagged me for the 777 Writing Challenge. And I’m finally getting around to participating. Some of you might be scratching your heads and thinking, “Wait, didn’t Tracey already do the 777? Like, twice?”
You are correct. The first time can be found here, the second time here. I just realized that Deborah was the one who tagged me the first time, too–and that it was my very first tag ever. All the warm, fuzzy memories . . .
Anyway. The rules are as follows:
The 777 challenge requires you go to Page 7 of your work-in-progress, scroll down to Line 7 and share the next 7 lines in a blog post. Once you have done this, you can tag 7 other bloggers to do the same with their work-in-progress.
Buuut it’s fun to play around with the rules. I’m changing lines to paragraphs, and rather than isolating paragraph seven of page seven, I’ll give you a couple paragraphs of context as well. Just because I’m sweet like that.
Oh, I nearly forgot to mention that this snippet is coming from book 2, The Prophet’s Key. None of this is edited, so you get behold the raw, uncut glory (or mess) before I take a chisel to it. In this scene, Josiah is supposed to be waiting while his family has a meeting with his psychiatrist, Dr. Teagan. You see, the events of the first book have had big ramifications on the home lives of the protagonists. Particularly Josiah’s.
Everyone thinks he’s schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur, let’s just put it that way.
Anyway, Josiah is listening in to this family meeting from outside Dr. Teagan’s office.
~*~
“I just want my son back,” Dad snapped. “If that means giving him his meds myself, I’ll do it.”
An image of Dad forcing his jaws open and shaking a pill bottle down his throat ramped up Josiah’s inner heat to boiling.
“Monitor him, yes, but don’t antagonize him. Patients fare best when home life is stable. If he refuses to take the pills, we may consider switching him to a daily injection.”
Josiah gripped the doorknob, then paused. What would it help to barge in? To protest? Resisting would only worsen the situation.
He spun on his heel and marched down the hallway and out the front door. A blast of early summer heat washed over him. Though the very thought rankled him down to his bones, the solution was clear: play along.
~*~
In keeping with my generous (ahem, lazy) method of leaving this particular tag open, I am again saying that if you want it, take it! Share your 777 snippet on your blog, here in the comments, whatever floats your boat. Or even just share a snippet of your work-in-progress, all tag rules aside. Give me all the yummy words!
p.s. On an unrelated note, keep an eye out for a very special bloggy happening coming later this month! It involves fantasy novels, an Oscar Awards sort of idea, and YOUR participation!
Times of high emotion imprint us with our strongest memories, good or bad. I don’t know about you, but the hard times of life leave a lingering aftertaste. Perhaps it’s an unfortunate human tendency to gravitate toward the negative, and so we have to work at focusing on the positive.
Remember Old Testament stories of how God came through for His people? Whenever He delivered them, they would build an altar to commemorate that place and time.
So Joshua called together the twelve men he had chosen–one from each of the tribes of Israel. He told them, “Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the Lord your God. Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder–twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future your children will ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a memorial among the people of Israel forever.” (Joshua 4:4-7, NLT)
This is just one of many examples of God’s people doing something to celebrate, honor, and remember miracles He had done.
What do I do when He comes through for me?
When light bursts into my dark valley, do I merely gasp in relief and proceed to move on with life, or do I pause to thank my Father?
I know He has answered prayers. I know He has pulled me through storms. But if someone were to ask me what God has done for me, I would have to stop and think.
What if I were to consciously celebrate those times? What if I were to play them over in my mind as my soul sang its gratitude? What if I did that daily?
It’s so important to encourage ourselves in the Lord, as David did. Life presents us with many difficult times. There’s no way to sugarcoat that. But in those rocky places, we can proclaim our Father’s faithfulness by remembering how He has delivered us in times before. We can build altars, not with stones but with thoughts. Not in religious recitation, not out of bondage. It’s taking the time to pull out those memories and smile at them again the way we smile at the knickknack on the dresser that reminds us of that wonderful vacation or the letter that reminds us of a dear friend. The edges are frayed from handling; it is a frequent gesture.
What if I made this a habit? A habit of praise–how beautiful would that be? How much peace would that bring? It would build faith and confidence like nothing else. “I know I’m facing something hard right now, but look what God did for me last time and all the times before. I was never abandoned, I never went hungry, He was always on time.”
Every time we ponder His faithfulness, it’s like adding another stone to the altar. The more we rejoice, the higher it builds, and the more naturally our thoughts will turn to this goodness again. This way of life is one of overflowing peace. I want that.
What we habitually think about affects our entire perception, which in turn determines how we experience life. I know that when I start a day mulling over the problems and negative things going on, my day will follow suit. But how wonderful would it be to enlarge our experience of God’s greatness and love? To focus on that instead, and begin to recognize it at every turn?
Let’s begin today. Let’s begin right here. If you feel comfortable doing so, please share something God has done in your life. There’s nothing so encouraging as realizing that what He did for someone else, He can do for me. For you. For any one of His beloved children. I’ll be adding a few comments of my own.
And let’s not stop here. Let’s begin to form a habit of thankfulness and praise. Let’s build altars and return to them again and again.
Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. (Psalm 34:3, NKJV)
So even though I started typing up this post within the last three hours of May, and it’s only getting to you in June, I’m not late at all.*
* Great excuse, right? But actually I have been going nonstop since Sunday morning, and these S&S posts are hard to put together until . . . you know, the month is pretty much over.
Life Etc.
A few notable things happened this month. I learned how to make origami flowers and felt so proud of myself. A friend/co-worker is getting married in June, so I joined her and a passel of girls in making some of the dozens (hundreds?) of flowers she needs. Behold my handiwork.
And I’ve been greatly enjoying my new vehicle. It’s officially in my possession now, and the first time I left work and laid eyes on it waiting in the parking lot for me, I had a thrill of that’s my car!
Warm sun and frequent showers have turned everything green, green, green around here. And that means yard work, planting the garden, starting the flower beds, etc. But digging my fingers into freshly tilled dirt, clomping around in rubber boots, hauling watering cans, watching little bugs scramble away as I work–that’s a totally different kind of labor than my job. It’s more refreshing.
We hauled out our lawn croquet and set it up at a park. Let’s just say that I finished fourth out of the six of us. My mom whupped us all severely. I had forgotten she was that good!
One of the biggest happenings this May, though, is the day I WENT TO A PIANO GUYS CONCERT! I’d heard way back around Christmas that their tour was bringing them close to home, and was naturally very interested in getting tickets. So was Sarah. But I procrastinated and did nothing about it for months. Two weeks before the concert, I checked online to see if tickets were still available, only to find out that $200 meet and greet passes were all that was left. (A little much for my sensible side to spend on entertainment.) But then it ended up working out that one of Sarah’s friends had two extra tickets she could sell us for $50 apiece. This has got to be the only time in my life that procrastination actually produced better results than . . . well, being on top of things.
Anyway, the concert itself was AH-MAY-ZING, OH MY GOODNESS. The music was absolutely gorgeous. The Piano Guys themselves were hilarious and so down to earth and humble. This was apparently their first time touring Canada, which was pretty cool. They played some of my favorites, and threw in a few unofficial pieces. (Including a joking mash-up of the “two happiest songs on earth” according to them: “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” and the main theme of Phantom of the Opera. They called it, “Don’t Worry, Be Psycho.” Too funny!)
I took a bunch of short videos with my phone, and I was hoping to upload one or two to this post, but sadly it’s not working. Just imagine, though, a live version of this song . . .
. . . in which four bagpipe players come and join them on the stage near the end. Ah, ’twas glorious!
Another fun event was a girls day out with a dear friend of mine (the one who got married a couple months ago). We hadn’t spent much time together since then, so it was awesome to catch up! Smoothies were also a plus. (But aren’t they always?)
Once Upon a Time season 3 // My sisters and I finally finished! Great ending, but now we very much need the fourth season. Thankfully, I own it already. But ugh, why did that particular character have to come to Storybrooke right when a certain relationship was going so beautifully? She’s going to ruin everything.
Sister Act // cheesy at some parts, funny at others, and even a little heartwarming in between. Watching Whoopi Goldberg play a casino singer who witnesses a murder and then has to hide at a nunnery (of all places) was pretty entertaining. Especially when she started teaching the nuns to sing.
The Two Towers // At last! I’ve been wanting to see it since I watched The Fellowship of the Ring a couple months ago. Being the extended edition, my bro and I went at it in two separate sittings. So. Good. Gollum’s inner conflict was done really well, everything felt darker and more foreboding than the first film, the Ents were fun (but not as good as the book version, in my humble opinion), Legolas and Gimli’s developing friendship was awesome, the battle at Helm’s Deep was the most epic thing ever . . . I could go on and on, but there are other things to talk about yet. I feel it should be known, however, how much I love Aragorn. And Eowyn. And Merry and Pippin. (But–but–but Aragorn! Could he be any more awesome?)
War Room// I was half expecting it to be one of those tired, clichéd sort of Christian movies, but it was actually good. It started out a bit clichéd, but it turned into a good story with a more focused storyline than, say, God’s Not Dead (which I did enjoy; it just had a big cast with lots of plot threads). And if the movie’s intent was to inspire the viewers to pray more, then it certainly was convicting. Bits of humor, mostly supplied by the elderly Miss Clara, were also appreciated.
Sleepless in Seattle // My mom and I had a movie night, complete with my favorite kind of popcorn. It was a fun old “classic,” which meant I could make fun of the hairstyles and music whilst enjoying the girly romance. Several sexual comments detracted from my enjoyment of the film, but otherwise it was a sweet movie. The dialogue of the main character Annie Reed reminds me of a more extroverted, reckless version of myself. I think it was the way she cobbled topics together and left others scratching their heads, or her random musings on little details about life?
Le Books
Hey, guess who up and joined Goodreads? (I haven’t figured out why we say “guess who” when it’s completely obvious we mean ourselves. But I say it anyway.) Yes, this social media hermit finally ventured into that particular bookish corner of the internet! A hermit, you ask? Doesn’t this blog count for something? Yes, of course it does, but as far as the imminently popular Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Pinterest/what-have-you world goes, I am notably absent. I’m on Google Plus simply because, well, Google gives me Gmail and Blogger and everything on one account. Before you mention it, yes, I am aware of how lame Google Plus is. (Except Mary and I have great little conversations there, so that’s a plus.) (Gosh, that was bad.)
But I was supposed to be talking about Goodreads. Yes. So I’m on there now, and still in the process of creating shelves and adding all the books of which I’ve kept a record. I’d love to connect with you over there!
One of the things I’ve been reading this month is Christine’s Burning Thorns, which is so marvellously wicked in its treatment of my heart. It’s a beautiful, heartrending story, and I’m currently having trouble imagining how things are going to get even worse than they already are.
The Prayer Box by Lisa Wingate // A sweet, romantic story of a single mom named Tandi shored up with her kids in a quaint little coastal town. Her elderly landlady, Iola Anne Poole, dies peacefully and leaves behind a huge mansion and a lifetime’s collection of prayer boxes–the prayers she wrote out since she was a little girl. These prayers are instrumental in Tandi finding healing for her broken heart. I give the story a bit of extra credit for the love interest’s originality. Rather than being Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome or Rugged Outdoorsmen, he’s a quirky lawn care guy who wears the worst flamingo shirts ever. (But he’s sweet, so ya like him.)
Water Walker by Ted Dekker // Book 3 in the Outlaw series. This story was written in almost a parable style, I feel, which is a bit different than Dekker’s usual method. It worked for this book, a short novel digging into themes of forgiveness and freedom through grace. Young Eden, who has no memory of her childhood, is kidnapped by people claiming to be her real parents. And let me tell you, those people are creepy. (What really struck me was how minimal the violence was–only one or two scenes, and only one of those made me wince–and yet how chilling the story was anyway. It was more of a psychological creep factor, with Eden’s captors being obsessed with a twisted version of purity, cleanliness, and sacrificial lambs.) I caught a few typos, but the story was well worth reading anyway. The messages coincide perfectly with what I’ve been learning in Dekker’s The Creative Way course.
Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones // So a number of online buddies of mine have been recommending HMC to me for a couple years already. Very, very enthusiastically recommending. Threatening to throw books at me if I don’t read it. Telling me my life will not be complete until I read it. I believed them, of course, because these people are rather discerning bookdragons. For the last two-ish years, I’ve been looking for HMC at every bookstore I visit, but never found it. You’ve probably guessed that I recently FOUND IT. (Technically, my mom and sister found it for me, sweet things.)
IT WAS GLORIOUS AND WHIMSICAL AND GAH, I NEED TO READ IT AGAIN. Everything was quirky and fun and seemingly random . . . until they started connecting in surprising ways. I also loved the fairytale setting with its scarecrows and talking fire demons and hat shops and magical doors in magical castles and curses and seven league boots ETC.
Can we talk about the characters? Like how I adore Howl? How spunky Sophie is, even (especially) as an old lady hobbling around and muttering to things? And how hilariously grouchy Calcifer is, and how he hopes Sophie’s bacon burns, and how Michael is a pretty cool wizard’s apprentice, and how everyone is just strange and wonderful? But Howl . . . he really does take the cake. He’s different than I expected, but probably better. (Unbelievably vain. Secretly a big ol’ softie. Dramatic as all get out. Howl being sick is so great, I have to say.)
So a humongous thank you to the folks who pushed me into HMC! You know how certain books or movies instantly snuggle into your heart and tell you they’re being added to the list of happy places you can go to when you need a pick-me-up? HMC is one of those.
Le Writing
6,170 words this month in The Prophet’s Key. Not a whole lot, considering I wrote twice as much last month–but decent considering everything else going on.
I managed to do some more research in the realm of literary agents! My list of potentials is slowly growing.
And I spent a significant amount of time doing plain old research for TPK. There’s a lot of globetrotting happening in this novel, and I am a person who has not ventured further than a few states south and a few provinces west. Needless to say, I haven’t been to most of the places in my outline. Google satellite images, maps, and Wikipedia are my not-so-helpful friends in this endeavor to soak up knowledge. (Can I just book two months off work and fly to places like British Columbia, Scotland, and Australia? Pretty please?)
To make matters worse, the specific locations I’m looking for are supposed to be in the middle of nowhere, set apart from the general civilization. Good places for hiding. Which means they are not good places to Google, because the car that takes their streetview images doesn’t trundle up the wilderness of the Rockies and snap pictures of the scenery, gosh darn it. Seriously, get your act together. (Just kidding. Kind of.) So I have resigned myself to getting a feel for a general area, and then making up the specifics. That gives me more freedom to get to the actual writing.
Oh, and I also completed two or three sessions of The Creative Way, including my first session on the module dealing with the craft of writing. Yay!
Now, some of you may have already heard this, but the fourth fairytale contest held by Rooglewood Press has been postponed until next year due to health concerns/busyness on Anne Elisabeth Stengl’s part. Very understandable (and I hope she recovers soon from whatever it is), but the news was a bit disappointing. I gave the matter some thought, and have since decided that this may actually be a blessing in disguise. As much as I was looking forward to writing another retelling, it will be good to have the entire year to focus on Journeys of the Chosen, including agent research. Plus I’ll be busy this fall (I have a college interview coming up!), so perhaps this is for the best. Besides, by the time June 2017 rolls around, I’ll have that much more creative juice stored up for twisting another fairytale!
One last writing-related thing before I wrap this up . . . Because of the postponement, I’m joining Go Teen Writers’ 100 for 100, something I’ve never done but am eager to try. The idea is to write at least 100 words a day for 100 days. The wordcount is easy. It’s the every day part that will be a challenge, especially on the busy days. But that’s the point of the challenge–to build discipline. I’m excited to give it a go!
Okay, I’m done.
Sorry this was so late, folks. I meant to have it out much sooner.
I’d say May was a good month. There were a lot of subplots humming along rather busily, weaving through the weeks. How was your month? Any good books you read or movies you watched? (HAVE YOU READ HMC?) How’s the writing life going, if you’re of that particular bent? Grab an iced cappuccino or something yummy like that and let’s chat!
P.S. I’m loving the discussion we’re having on swearing in books, and I promise I’ll get to your comments as soon as I have the time to give them the thoughtful responses they deserve!
I once explained why swearing should be eliminated from fiction. While I would still happily trim all those four-letter words out of books (except that defacing library property is a naughty thing to do), I’ve been pondering this subject recently. I had a good discussion about it with my brother, then with blogger friend Emily, and later with my writer friend Sarah. And I have come to the stunning conclusion: It’s not quite as black and white as I would like it to be.
I’m here today not to draw any concrete conclusions, but rather to weigh both sides and discuss it with you all. Fair enough?
swearing in books: what makes it undesirable
* Some of us just aren’t comfortable with foul language. Why should we be subjected to it in a novel? I’ve started to read some great books that I ended up putting down because the amount of profanity was more than I wanted to endure. I think authors should thoughtfully consider the section of their audience they’re driving away with their content. Those who don’t care how many f-bombs litter the page will still read your books even if you clean them up, whereas those who do care will be very thankful. Listen to the dollar signs, if nothing else.
* In some cases (not all), it’s lazy writing. In these sorts of books, the characters seem to have a limited vocabulary, 50% of which is profane. Even the narrative is sprinkled with it. Yes, I understand that that particular word is an angry one, but I would appreciate your art far more if you used some creativity to convey that anger. It takes more writing muscle to vividly describe someone seething with rage or moping in misery than it does to plop down a four-letter word or two. (Or a blue-streaking seven.)
* I could go on, but most of my other reasons are close siblings of the first one. Because of my faith and because of personal preference, I just don’t like language, be it in a book, movie, TV show, or real life.
swearing in books: what makes it okay
* It can be realistic. I loved Maggie Stiefvater’s The Raven Boys, but the characters, particularly Ronan, swore more than I expected them too. Being rough around the edges, all tough exterior and shaved head and independence, Ronan’s language was in keeping with his character. He’s kind of the bad boy. I have to be honest: there are just some people that wouldn’t realistically shout “oh pumpernickel!” when they spill hot coffee over their lap. If writers are meant to reflect life accurately, then perhaps a measure of realism in the dialogue is acceptable?
*In a very select few cases–of which I’d be hard-pressed to name, but still know they exist–there’s no other way to say it. Let’s imagine a scene showing the aftermath of deep evil or the heinousness of a crime. The most fitting words to describe those evil people and their destructive deeds are not PG-rated, people. (These days, maybe they are, but that’s another topic altogether . . .)
*Again, I could go on, but the rest of what I have to say is best discussed . . . as an actual discussion, instead of in point form.
so what are we to do?
On the one hand, many readers and writers find swearing offensive. I am one of those.
On the other hand, I write about things I don’t agree with, and no one is under the delusion that I approve of those things. I have characters with different mindsets than I do. I have characters who lie, steal, manipulate, betray, lust after power, burn people at the stake, and strive to conquer worlds. And yet I do not condone any of those actions, even if some of them are done by protagonists who are struggling on their journeys. So why should swearing be different?
Maybe it’s because we can read about someone lying or murdering, but we don’t truly experience the telling of that lie or the murdering of that person. But when we read a swear word, it’s just as bad as if we thought of it ourselves or spoke it aloud. Swearing is a verbal/mental sin, right?* It’s one of the few that can be communicated fully on the page.
*(And while we’re at it, can any of you point me to Bible verses on the subject of language? Beyond one of the Ten Commandments being “Do not take God’s Name in vain.” Because most swearing doesn’t invoke God’s name at all. I’m interested in doing some further study.)
BUT. I easily forget that non-Christians don’t ‘play by the same rules,’ if you want to put it that way. To me, swearing is wrong, but to a lot of people, it’s simply not an issue. How can I expect them to censor their language if they don’t believe it presents a problem?
On another note, intended audience is a big factor. Please do not put foul language in a book written for twelve-year-olds. I don’t care if they may be hearing those words at school already–some of them still have innocent eyes and ears, and I would hate for a book to introduce them to something better met at an older age.
But what about adult fiction? Or even YA? (As a reader, I consume both, as I imagine lots of you do.) These readers have heard plenty already, unless they live in Antarctica with speechless penguins. Does exposure justify the continued use of language? Is it a matter of maturity or of principle? Or both?
To some of you, this probably isn’t a big deal at all. I understand that the public school system is good at desensitizing people. Really, though, the secular world at large is good at it. As a homeschooler raised in a Christian family, I was not exposed to the same volume of profanity during my childhood as many public school students were. Emily pointed that fact out to me, and it’s true. Not that I was some unsocialized little stereotype who bathed in hand sanitizer after setting foot out in the big, bad world! I was simply in an environment that didn’t involve anything much worse than ‘crap.’ Now, as an adult in the workforce, and as a person whose media intake has expanded, I hear and read more. Not that I like it, but it’s reality.
So. Should we read books that contain swearing? I believe that’s between you and God to decide what you can handle (or what you want to handle). Should we write books that contain swearing? That question is even more muddled with grey than the first. And I did say I wasn’t trying to come to any solid conclusions just now.
But I will say that, no matter the answer, a few things need to be thoughtfully and prayerfully considered.
the audience
the context of the swearing
the intensity and frequency of the swearing
For me personally, there may come a day when I pen an adult novel that calls for a restrained measure of language. I can’t imagine myself ever laying it on thick. At all. I’d rather leave it at a non-scarring, “he swore” and be done with it. But a few deliberately placed words, for the right audience, in the right context, might happen. I honestly don’t know. I still wish the issue was as simple as attacking every novel out there with a black Sharpie. We all know it’s not, though.
In lieu of a real conclusion, I leave us with this:
Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.
Philippians 4:8-9 (The Message)
So what are your thoughts? It’s a tricky matter, and I want to hear your take on it.
