Take a father who longs to be part of his daughter’s life, a broken marriage between an interracial couple, and a young girl who grows up knowing a part of her life is missing. Add a legacy of alcoholism and addiction that follows the girl into adulthood, and her need to know the side of the family she was never around. Mix in a rebellious teenage girl, potbellied pigs, an intriguing male neighbor, and a fence line built of oven doors, and you have The Fence My Father Built.
Set mostly in the open range of Central Oregon, Ms. Clare’s novel follows the story of Muri Pond, who has been called to settle some family business left behind when her father dies. A feud existed between her dad and Linc Jackson, the man who "owns" the town, with the ownership of land and a creek in question. It’s up to Muri to find the cause of the disagreement and try to right it. In the process, she discovers much about her own background and faith, and why it’s so important.
Ms. Clare draws from her own experience of discovering her Native American heritage. She brings to life eccentric characters whose lives present an interesting change from the norm. She did a great job capturing the ongoing clash between Muri and her teenage daughter. (I’m thinking the voice of experience here!) Ms. Clare deals with cultural relationships that are seldom explored in books, leading to thought-provoking moments for the reader.
The Fence My Father Built is a well-written novel that will leave you waiting impatiently for Ms. Clare’s next book. I gladly give it four stars.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
What I Learned at the Knee of NaNo
With a title like this, maybe you think I have a special nickname for my grandma, and I've been sitting at her feet gleaning great wisdom. (As my dad always said, "I learned it at my mother's knee, and certain other joints!")
No, my grandparents have all passed on, so I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's actually a world-wide writing event, in which you sign up and strive to write 50,000 words during the month of November. My understanding is that 177,000 people signed up for it this year, and 30,000-something met their goal. I'm very happy to say I was one of them!
Fifty thousand words may not sound like a lot, but when I first sat down in front of my blank computer screen, it seemed nearly insurmountable. I only had the germ of an idea for a story. I knew who my main character was and one event that would happen to her, but that was it. Not much to go on, huh?
I decided to jump right in and have something happen to her on the first page. The story began to grow from there. The fun thing about NaNo is that the writer is not allowed to edit themselves as they write. When I've written in the past, I could get hung up for ten minutes looking through my thesaurus trying to find the exact word to express myself. But not during Nano. I had the freedom to throw words on the screen and keep typing. My story makes sense (I didn't repeat one sentence over and over) but it's certainly not good writing. I don't have the layers and subplots woven through like I will when it's polished. But I've got a great start.
For the past year or more I have just dinked around with my writing. I've had so many family situations I've been in the midst of that I felt it wasn't possible to write. And yet at the end of the day I would often think, "Just what have I accomplished today?"
During NaNo I found I could set daily word counts and meet them. Most days I did between 2,000 and 2,500 words, but one day I managed 4,300. I was able to take days off for family activities by going over my quota for several days in a row. I learned to have contests with myself. I wrote down how many words I wrote in a thirty minute time frame and tried to beat it in the next thirty minutes. And I always did.
I learned to say no to some invitations in order to keep writing. I learned that when family crises continued to hit and I didn't want to write I could still force myself to do so, regardless of my feelings.
I think my grandma would be proud.
No, my grandparents have all passed on, so I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's actually a world-wide writing event, in which you sign up and strive to write 50,000 words during the month of November. My understanding is that 177,000 people signed up for it this year, and 30,000-something met their goal. I'm very happy to say I was one of them!
Fifty thousand words may not sound like a lot, but when I first sat down in front of my blank computer screen, it seemed nearly insurmountable. I only had the germ of an idea for a story. I knew who my main character was and one event that would happen to her, but that was it. Not much to go on, huh?
I decided to jump right in and have something happen to her on the first page. The story began to grow from there. The fun thing about NaNo is that the writer is not allowed to edit themselves as they write. When I've written in the past, I could get hung up for ten minutes looking through my thesaurus trying to find the exact word to express myself. But not during Nano. I had the freedom to throw words on the screen and keep typing. My story makes sense (I didn't repeat one sentence over and over) but it's certainly not good writing. I don't have the layers and subplots woven through like I will when it's polished. But I've got a great start.
For the past year or more I have just dinked around with my writing. I've had so many family situations I've been in the midst of that I felt it wasn't possible to write. And yet at the end of the day I would often think, "Just what have I accomplished today?"
During NaNo I found I could set daily word counts and meet them. Most days I did between 2,000 and 2,500 words, but one day I managed 4,300. I was able to take days off for family activities by going over my quota for several days in a row. I learned to have contests with myself. I wrote down how many words I wrote in a thirty minute time frame and tried to beat it in the next thirty minutes. And I always did.
I learned to say no to some invitations in order to keep writing. I learned that when family crises continued to hit and I didn't want to write I could still force myself to do so, regardless of my feelings.
I think my grandma would be proud.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Peace in the Pieces
November—the month that makes us realize the year is nearly over. Nights are long and the rainy days seem to last forever. Children complain about sore throats and come home from school with hacking coughs. Christmas is just around the corner, bringing with it the panic of trying to fit in Christmas parties and programs, trips to the mall, cookie baking marathons, and sending out Christmas cards. This is a busy time of year, and we women can easily get overwhelmed. It feels like everyone wants a piece of us.
I believe that within our heart there is a desire to be calm and focused; not caught up in the whirlwind of busyness that surrounds us and threatens to suck us into the vortex of a life out of control. How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?
In John 16:33 Jesus says, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."
Psalm 26:3,4 gives us a beautiful promise: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord is everlasting strength."
Another reminder of our source of peace is found in John 14:27 where Jesus tells us of a wonderful gift He is offering—"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
We have a choice to make. Will we let God control the events of the day, or try to manipulate them ourselves? It is so important to take/make time at some point each day to settle down in a comfy chair, maybe with a cup of coffee or tea nearby, and just cozy up in the Lord’s lap. Read a favorite passage in the Bible and meditate on the words. How do they apply to your life? What is God saying to you? Just sit and let your thoughts be open to soaking up the truth of God’s word. Then, after your soul has been refreshed, join in the activity around you with a thankful heart. One that knows the source of peace.
I believe that within our heart there is a desire to be calm and focused; not caught up in the whirlwind of busyness that surrounds us and threatens to suck us into the vortex of a life out of control. How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?
In John 16:33 Jesus says, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."
Psalm 26:3,4 gives us a beautiful promise: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord is everlasting strength."
Another reminder of our source of peace is found in John 14:27 where Jesus tells us of a wonderful gift He is offering—"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
We have a choice to make. Will we let God control the events of the day, or try to manipulate them ourselves? It is so important to take/make time at some point each day to settle down in a comfy chair, maybe with a cup of coffee or tea nearby, and just cozy up in the Lord’s lap. Read a favorite passage in the Bible and meditate on the words. How do they apply to your life? What is God saying to you? Just sit and let your thoughts be open to soaking up the truth of God’s word. Then, after your soul has been refreshed, join in the activity around you with a thankful heart. One that knows the source of peace.
Monday, November 16, 2009
How Embarrassing!
Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to say you have a blog, but you rarely post anything?
What does a non-blogger, who has a blog, look like? Their skin is creased and wrinkled from holding their head in their hands while moaning, "Alas, alas. What can I possibly write about that would be of interest to others?" A flabby stomach greets them when they finally rise from hours spent in front of a blank computer screen. Vericose veins march their way across the non-bloggers thighs in protest of too little walking. Eyes are dull, just like one's mind. It's a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Either that, or old age!
My postings have been so few, and so far apart, that I'm sure no one reads them but me. But I've found a new sense of discipline this month and I believe I can start posting a couple times a week. Even if I'm the only one who reads them, at least I can be consistent.
My new realization that I can be disciplined about my writing has come from participating in a world-wide event during the month of November. It's called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. Or NaNo for shorter. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a new novel during November. That's a lot of words for most of us to reach in that amount of time.
This came at the perfect time for me. I had just come up with the germ of an idea for a new story I wanted to write on my own. I had just become represented by a new agent who I know will require a lot from me. So I signed up. At this point, I've written 27,549 words. I think I'm going to make it!
And as I go through the rest of the month, I'll also blog. They may not be deep and insightful, but as I've found by NaNoing, they just need to be written.
What does a non-blogger, who has a blog, look like? Their skin is creased and wrinkled from holding their head in their hands while moaning, "Alas, alas. What can I possibly write about that would be of interest to others?" A flabby stomach greets them when they finally rise from hours spent in front of a blank computer screen. Vericose veins march their way across the non-bloggers thighs in protest of too little walking. Eyes are dull, just like one's mind. It's a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Either that, or old age!
My postings have been so few, and so far apart, that I'm sure no one reads them but me. But I've found a new sense of discipline this month and I believe I can start posting a couple times a week. Even if I'm the only one who reads them, at least I can be consistent.
My new realization that I can be disciplined about my writing has come from participating in a world-wide event during the month of November. It's called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. Or NaNo for shorter. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a new novel during November. That's a lot of words for most of us to reach in that amount of time.
This came at the perfect time for me. I had just come up with the germ of an idea for a new story I wanted to write on my own. I had just become represented by a new agent who I know will require a lot from me. So I signed up. At this point, I've written 27,549 words. I think I'm going to make it!
And as I go through the rest of the month, I'll also blog. They may not be deep and insightful, but as I've found by NaNoing, they just need to be written.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Review of A Slow Burn, by Mary DeMuth
What would you do if you were called to the morgue to identify the body of your thirteen-year-old daughter? What emotions would course through your soul as you were hit with the realization your drug and alcohol abuse may have played a part in the loss of your only child? What guilt might you attribute to her young friend, Jed, who was the last person to see her alive?
Emory Chance is a mother living through such an unthinkable situation. She seeks to find out who murdered her daughter, and why. Things like this just don't happen in their small Texas town. Others deal with problems of their own: Hixon, a man who believes God has told him to marry Emory, though they have little in common, and Jed, the boy reeling under the regret of not walking his friend home after they had last played together. The lives of these three characters intersect in unusual ways, up to the last pages of the book.
A Slow Burn is the sequel to Mary DeMuth's novel, Daisy Chain. It's important to read them in the correct order. Ms. DeMuth's writing is stellar--deep and flowing. The characters come alive and may remind you of people you've known in your past. Huge topics of forgiveness, regret, guilt, and blame are dealt with. This book will grab your emotions and give them a hard twist before leaving you with a satisfying ending. The two books would make a wonderful Christmas present. I give A Slow Burn one of my rare five-star ratings!
Emory Chance is a mother living through such an unthinkable situation. She seeks to find out who murdered her daughter, and why. Things like this just don't happen in their small Texas town. Others deal with problems of their own: Hixon, a man who believes God has told him to marry Emory, though they have little in common, and Jed, the boy reeling under the regret of not walking his friend home after they had last played together. The lives of these three characters intersect in unusual ways, up to the last pages of the book.
A Slow Burn is the sequel to Mary DeMuth's novel, Daisy Chain. It's important to read them in the correct order. Ms. DeMuth's writing is stellar--deep and flowing. The characters come alive and may remind you of people you've known in your past. Huge topics of forgiveness, regret, guilt, and blame are dealt with. This book will grab your emotions and give them a hard twist before leaving you with a satisfying ending. The two books would make a wonderful Christmas present. I give A Slow Burn one of my rare five-star ratings!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Expect the Unexpected
Just a quick note today before flying out to the national American Christian Writers Conference, held this year in beautiful Denver, CO. I always have these grand plans of being prepared a day ahead of time, just needing to put my toiletries in at the last minute. But, as usual, I was up late last night finishing my to-do list.
One of the necessary things before taking off on a trip is to make sure the bills are all paid. Because John is a school teacher and just gets paid during the school year, summer is a lo-o-o-ng stretch with little income. By the time September rolls around we're counting the days until the end of the month and a pay check. But there was no getting around it on Saturday--I had to pay those pesky bills.
I wondered aloud, "Lord, how are we going to do this?" I closed the checkbook and walked away, still stymied. A few minutes later Christina brought my mail and placed it on the counter. What did I find tucked between various junk mail and fliers? A check from the school district John had tuned for several weeks ago--to the "tune" of $1,000. Thank you Lord!
On Monday I happened to stick my hand in the back pocket of a pair of capris and felt a hard lump. (No, it wasn't me!) I dug a little deeper and pulled out a folded roll of $14. I realized it was left over from going to the State Fair and not wanting to carry a purse. What's funny is that those pants had gone through the wash probably four or five times since then, and the money was still perfect. It wasn't enough to do much on the bills, but it was there. Thank you, Lord!
God gives us unexpected blessings more than we realize. It may be a $14 blessing--an easy-to-find-parking space, a new checkout line opening up at the grocery store when we're in a rush, or a phone call from a friend--these small things we blithely accept, then move on. It's the $1,000 blessings that garner our attention--healing from a disease, a restored relationship, a job after being out of work for months. But I say blessings are blessings are blessings! Keep your eyes open today for what the Lord is doing in your life. I'd love for you to leave a comment and let me know what you see!
One of the necessary things before taking off on a trip is to make sure the bills are all paid. Because John is a school teacher and just gets paid during the school year, summer is a lo-o-o-ng stretch with little income. By the time September rolls around we're counting the days until the end of the month and a pay check. But there was no getting around it on Saturday--I had to pay those pesky bills.
I wondered aloud, "Lord, how are we going to do this?" I closed the checkbook and walked away, still stymied. A few minutes later Christina brought my mail and placed it on the counter. What did I find tucked between various junk mail and fliers? A check from the school district John had tuned for several weeks ago--to the "tune" of $1,000. Thank you Lord!
On Monday I happened to stick my hand in the back pocket of a pair of capris and felt a hard lump. (No, it wasn't me!) I dug a little deeper and pulled out a folded roll of $14. I realized it was left over from going to the State Fair and not wanting to carry a purse. What's funny is that those pants had gone through the wash probably four or five times since then, and the money was still perfect. It wasn't enough to do much on the bills, but it was there. Thank you, Lord!
God gives us unexpected blessings more than we realize. It may be a $14 blessing--an easy-to-find-parking space, a new checkout line opening up at the grocery store when we're in a rush, or a phone call from a friend--these small things we blithely accept, then move on. It's the $1,000 blessings that garner our attention--healing from a disease, a restored relationship, a job after being out of work for months. But I say blessings are blessings are blessings! Keep your eyes open today for what the Lord is doing in your life. I'd love for you to leave a comment and let me know what you see!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Great Cover Up
I don’t know about you, but there are times when I’m a messy cook. People always say, “The proof’s in the pudding,” but for me, the proof’s in the cookbook. Just thumbing through my cookbooks can prove my claim, as pages are glued together by an errant drop of batter or boldly decorated with oil splatters.Not only are my recipe pages victims of unplanned food fights, but my clothes become part of the fray. Homemade barbecue sauce accidentally dribbles down a white blouse, or chocolate pudding on my jeans. Sometimes, if I put my clothes in the washer with hot water and no soap, I could end up with a unique soup!
Because of my propensity to wear ingredients instead of mixing them, I rely on a relic from the past—an apron. I’ve had a lot of different kinds of aprons throughout my decades as a wife, but my favorite is the one my parents got me for my birthday last year. It’s an old-fashioned cobbler apron in a pattern that appears to have come from the 1950s—drawings of dishes, stoves, mixers, and tea kettles, all colored in red and green. Every time I look at it, a gentle breeze of nostalgia caresses my mind.
Now you may not be a woman who must cover up with an apron, but there’s a cover up that we all need to use much more than we do. I Peter 4:8 says, “Above all things have fervent love for one another, for love will cover a multitude of sins.” Yep, what the world needs now is love, sweet love. It’s what our church needs, as well as our friends and members of our families.
I’m not talking about a kind of love that glosses over the seriousness of others’ sins. Not a love that turns its head the other way when wrongs are committed, or a love that refuses to take a stand when injustice is involved. None of those are really love, but an easy way out of confrontation or accountability. There are times love has to be tough.
The verse in I Peter is a reference to Proverbs 10:12, which says, “Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all sins.” When we make a conscious choice to overlook an offense against us, we are taking away the power of strife and adding a huge measurement of love. When someone hurts us, either intentionally or without meaning to, we have the option of tamping our resentment down into the crevices of our heart, where it hardens, or of letting it go. If we cherish resentment, instead of the relationship with the person involved, we are the one to lose.
So the next time you don an apron, or look down at your messy clothes and think, “I should have worn an apron,” remember the greatest cover up of all—love.
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