Taking the Plunge

Dare I admit that I've sent out a submission?

 

Patting myself on my back here. I really did! Pinching myself now.

See, if you're like me and the whole self-confidence or lack thereof is an issue, it's not easy to share such a milestone. But there you have it, I've sent a partial out, and you betcha that I'm praying all over it, and praying for a healthy dose of toughness, too.

They say you're not a writer until you've received a hundred rejections. Well, maybe not a hundred, but you know what I mean. Now I've only received two rejections so far in this near nine-year writing journey of mine, and to be honest, one I sent in those very early years when I was way too naive so I don't consider it a serious submission. And I thank the Good Lord for it being rejected!

The other I sent in a rush because I heard this particular house was "hurting" for manuscripts. Now, that story I'd spent a good number of years working on, so the rejection that came did hurt, even if I suspected it would be the outcome despite the years of work I'd done on it. Deep inside I knew I still wasn't ready for publication nor was my writing at that time.

But this time, I feel like this story has real potential. I'm guarding my heart and running through a slew of reasons why a rejection might come back. Not near touching all of them here, but here's a small sampling:

• Your getting there, but your writing just isn't strong enough yet.
• Not a good fit for our readership. Your heroine's too sassy.
• Your characters are two-dimensional. 
• Your plot is weak. 
• Sorry, already bought a similar one.

Need I go on? 

So as I prepare myself for my next rejection, I'm also preparing myself for a miracle! I like to burn candles at both ends it would seem.

I continue to polish and re-polish this manuscript as I wait, and will move onto a new project soon--a sequel to this story. And I'm looking forward to taking Deborah Raney's ACFW Loop Course, The Business End of Writing.

If you're interested in joining me in taking this homework-free course, you can sign up by going to www.acfw.com and logging on. Click "Get Connected" on the top bar. Choose E-loops and subscribe to the ACFW Course Loop.

Hope to see you there!

 

  

Surrendering to Him,   

 

Eileen

Happy Halloween!

May your evening be spooktacularly terrific!

Surrendering to Him,
Eileen

Not Twelve Hours Ago . . .

I knelt on the cold, sandy arena floor holding my baby.

Praising God that I can write this post today.

Hubby rarely does barn duty with me and the girls, but last night he did. There the two of us got chatting with other barn parents of horse-loving kids as our youngest daughter took Donner into the indoor arena to begin her ride.

We positioned ourselves outside the viewing window just before hubby blurted, "Oh no."

My eyes locked through the Plexiglas window on a child hanging sideways on a cantering horse.

Our child.

On our seventeen-hand horse acting nothing like himself.

As we bolted to the arena door we heard a sickening crash and thud. (Ten years as a horse mom has me hearing a lot of these, and every time my heart stops, then quickly reboots.)

First line of vision is our horse prancing toward the other end of the arena. His reins aren`t dangling. He`ll be okay.

The coach and hubby are at Cassandra`s side. I can see her legs flayed up against the side board. I zero in on her knees. Please God don`t let them have dislocated again.

They`re okay. Both knees of my near-crippled-child-of-late are safely positioned. Thank you, Lord!

I turn to retrieve our horse who is now in the thick of ponies with their mounted riders at the far end of the arena.

"Eileen!" Not hubby`s voice.

Panic sears me. That`s the coach`s, Laura`s, voice. She never asks for parents to come until the child is up and walking. Phil`s already breaking the cardinal rule of "stay away until she's up".

Her imploring glare has me buckle over.

". . . your daughter." I don`t know how, but now the coach is behind me and I`m kneeling over my baby girl.

I either thought she was dead or I took her seizure as a sign of no spinal injuries. I turned her contorted torso to hold her head in my lap. "Don`t move her," ricocheted off the side board from numerous people.

Stupid me. But there was no way I was going to let go of my baby now. All I could do was keep her as still as possible in the position I had her. Cradled in my lap and arms.

"She`s seizing." I cried. Her ashin face bold against the stark black helmet. Her eyes open, but not seeing.
Tremors worked her otherwise lifeless body.

People gathered. But I saw none of them.

I wrapped her soul more than her body in my arms for fear of injuring my girl more. "Dear Heavenly Father I ask you to heal my girl. Bring her back to us, Lord. Please God, heal my baby. In Jesus His precious name please God bring her back to us." It felt like minutes/hours that I prayed aloud over my baby.

The tremors ceased.

Praise God! He listened. He answered the way I wanted Him to! Praise God!

But Cassandra still didn`t come back to us.

"Cassandra, do you hear me?"

"Cassandra, Mommy's holding you, do you feel pain anywhere?"

"Cassie, do you feel your toes?"

Then her tears came.

Then sobbing. Precious, lovely sobbing. My girl could sob all day if she wanted to now. She was making her way back to us!

"Thank you, Lord!"


As I write this post, I'm tucked into our comfy round chair in our home and Cassandra is sitting on our curved couch across from me working on an assignment. Crayons rush rapidly over paper to colour a treasure box for a school project. She has a badly beaten tail bone, not broken. Praise God! She has a headache that prescribed Motrin is tackling. She's alive. She's all that she was before this incident, just a little worse for wear. And I'm still praising God!

We spent over four hours in ER last night. Of which near three of those hours Cassandra lay bruised and hurting secured to a board for fear of spinal injuries. Her butt hurt, and I loved hearing every complaint her sweet voice rang out while we waited. It's not every day a mother can say that!

The Doctor has assured us that her seizure was a response to her head injury. There is no reason to be concerned that she may have Epilepsy unless she experiences another seizure without obvious cause.
We are gifted with yet another day to raise our three precious daughters, and I'm PRAISING GOD!!

May we all see the beauty in every mundane complaint that our children and loved ones cry out. It is a gift. And after last night, I choose to praise God for it!!!

Surrendering to Him,

Eileen

Is Wordiness a Part of Your Writer's Voice?

Okay this picture has nothing to do with my question, but isn't Emma just so cute? She's forever finding tight nooks to curl up into and this time it's my Hawaii bag that I see has my missing pencil case in it. So that's where it's been hiding! Thanks, Emma!

Do you ever do brainstorming with a writing buddy? Well, I did that right after my devotional time this morning and this particular fabulous writer, who is the queen of tightness, had also suggested I send her something of mine to read.

Okay, I'm going to be completely honest here (not that I'm not always honest, I just usually choose carefully what honesty to disclose on-line, like I'm sure we all do for good reason) but I hummed and hawwed over whether or not to send those chapters because . . . well, I'm wordy, and she's JUST NOT! Now I love this writer's stories, so however she tightens her writing it works wonderfully for me, but when I try to tighten my stories like she does I feel like something gets lost along the way, and that's what made me ask myself "Can wordiness be a part of my writer's voice?"

I suggested in my email that she's busy (she is on deadline afterall), so to not critique but rather just point out any glaring issues she might discover along the way of reading my manuscript. I'm feeling especially weak today, I guess. Told my hubby I think I'm PMSing and he suggested he was having sympathy pangs of it, too, so there'll be no consoling hugs this week, I suspect. :(

Even as I write this I sit in trepidation suspecting that she's going to tear that baby to shreds. And if she does I know it will be a blessing, even if it leaves me scarred and with mega work ahead. Am I alone, or do others feel this same angst when they send their work off to writer's who are far superior to themselves, even after seven years of doing so and living through it? I wonder, does a writer ever get beyond that fear?

I know I have to keep pushing myself to get better. And putting our work out there to writer's below, at, and above our writing level is one of the best ways to learn and grow. But discerning how much tightening to do while protecting my own voice and style is something I grapple with on a daily basis.

So you tell me, when is wordiness just wordiness that needs to be addressed as a writer and when is it a part of your writer's voice and needs protecting?

Surrendering to Him,

Eileen

A Gift Unused is . . .

God's grace denied.
A profound thought. At least for me it is.
Consider the following verse:
"Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various form..." 1 Peter 4:10

I've always thought of God's grace as an amazing gift that I don't deserve, but so thankful to have. But never before did I really consider that I could be used as a vessel to deliver His grace to another person. According to Peter, though, we are to be faithful in administering God's grace through the gifts we are given.
We are instruments through which God extends His grace to others. Doesn't that make our responsibility to discover our gifts all the more important? It does to me.

P.S. I'm in need of this today, so I'm reposting from an October 2008 post. Hope this verse speaks to you today, too!


Surrendering to Him,

Eileen

Goodbye's

Life is rarely black and white and neither are goodbye's.

Goodbye's often come with mixed emotions.

Sadness for what is lost. Anticipation for the future and what opportunities it might afford. Perhaps a portion of hurt is blended in, too. Feeling let down, cast aside, unimportant enough to keep the person around. Loneliness. An unease that makes your insides feel brittle.

How do goodbyes speak to you?

Last Sunday we said goodbye to our pastor of five years. I will miss her sermons (I can honestly say that not one of her sermons lulled me to sleep, which is far more than I can say for a few of the speakers we have had in the past), and I'll miss the understanding we were gradually building of one another. I'm not the easiest person to get to know, so trust is an exercise in patience. There are times when I feel that this chapter at our church was cut much too short, though I saw the end coming quite a while ago.

I mourn what could have been.

See, time is the most precious of gifts, I think. Given enough time a deep, special report can be built between pastor and parishioner. A respect and meaningful understanding that can work wonders in the running of God's church can be formed. But that takes time. It takes conflicts and working through them, it takes growing side by side and learning how each other ticks and respecting each other's ways.

But now that time has come to an end and we must start all over, afresh, with whoever God sends our way.

Though I trust that God is in control and what is to come is healthier for everyone involved, I still question this detour put before us. But most of all, I pray that we continue to grow together as a congregation, being an instrument through which God works in our community and beyond.

Are you mourning a loss, today? May I lift it in prayer for you?

Surrendering to Him,

Eileen

Fall Kitchens

I know I've said it before that I love all seasons and that I'm always ready for the next by the time it rolls around. But one of my favourite parts of fall is the harvest. And so I have to share this recipe with you all, as it just tastes of fall to me.

As you work away at whatever you've got on your chore list this fall, I hope you'll brighten your day and scent your home with this baked Apple Torte. It's easy to put together, but looks and tastes like a well-practiced chef created it. Trust me, I'm not one of those, so if I can create this and my whole family love it, so can you!

Bavarian Apple Torte  

Crust:
1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla
1 cup all-purpose flour

Filling:
1 pkg (250 g) Cream Cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar
1 egg, at room temperature
1/2 tsp vanilla

Topping:
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
4 cups peeled sliced crisp apples
1/4 cup sliced almonds

Crust: Combine butter, sugar and vanilla. Blend in flour. Spread dough on bottom and 1-inch up sides of a 9-inch springform pan. I use a pie pan and that works well too! Note: If you haven't planned ahead to get things to room temperature, a few seconds in the microwave does wonders!

Filling: Beat cream cheese and sugar until well blended. This takes a bit, but make sure you get it good and smooth. Add egg and vanilla; mix well. Spread evenly over the crust.

Topping: Combine sugar and cinnamon. Toss apples in sugar mixture. Place in pinwheel pattern over cream cheese layer. Sprinkle with almonds. Bake at 425 F for 10 minutes. Reduce temperature to 375 F and continue baking 25 minutes longer. Cool on wire rack. Chill 3 hours before serving.

Serves: 8 (or if you're watching your delicate figure, it could easily serve 16)
Preparation time: 20 minutes (do it while pondering a plot issue to multi-task)
Baking time: 35 minutes (and in this fall air, it nicely helps to heat your home and scent it all in one)

Enjoy!

Surrendering to Him,

Eileen