When the Wind Blows

Do you remember the old story about the man who applied for a job working for a farmer, who gave as his qualification for the job that he could sleep when the wind blew? The point was that he always prepared for the possibility of a storm by securing the stock and barn every night, therefore when a storm arose, he didn't have to jump out of bed and run around doing anything to save the animals or barn. He was prepared.

If there's one thing I've learned for sure in this life, it is that there are a lot of unexpected storms. I'm not just referring to the kind of snow storm much of the West received earlier this week. I mean the unexpected illnesses, accidents and injuries, death of a loved one, job loss, a late freeze, a car that breaks down, a demanding calling, a family member or friend who needs help, and that list doesn't even begin to list natural disasters such as flood, volcano ash, tornados, tsunamis, or hurricanes. There are lesser personal disasters, too, that run the gamut from a broken tooth, a worn out washing machine, theft, or a rejected manuscript. Any or all of these things can raise havoc in our lives.

How do we prepare for these unexpected storms? Physical preparation is the easiest, though is often neglected. There's good old food storage, but there's also making certain we have adequate insurance, a cash reserve for dealing with emergencies, and taking steps to be strong and healthy. A little forethought will carry most people safely through most storms, though not all. That is why we must be spiritually prepared as well. Tough times can drain our spiritual reserves as quickly as our physical.

When my husband and I were younger and our children were arriving, my husband became deeply concerned about keeping the gas tank of our car topped off. I've often thought of that time and compared it to my spiritual tank. I never know when there will come a demand for spiritual strength and when it does, I don't want to be caught with an empty tank. I've always considered prayer, scripture study, bearing of one's testimony, accepting callings, and choosing uplifting entertainment part of spiritual preparation. Now I'm convinced the most important step to being spiritually prepared is temple attendance.

It's no accident that temples are being built far and wide, faster than most of us can keep track of them. This world needs the spiritual strength available only within those sacred walls. During this time of physical uncertainties and spiritual trials, I urge everyone to secure your homes, prepare reserves, look after your health, establish a Plan B, and keep your spiritual tanks filled.

Heather Moore's Women of the Book of Mormon

It's an honor to review this book, not only because I enjoyed reading it, but I've already quoted from it in presentations and lessons. This book is a collection of 12 chapters on the women who are mentioned in the Book of Mormon. Here are some of the highlights that I appreciated:

* Heather is a reliable source on the history of the Book of Mormon, not only scripturally but from a historical standpoint as well. She delves into the customs of the day, presents viable scenarios and situations that likely occurred for these women of whom so little is written.

* The book is meticulously documented in quotations/source material. Very well done.

* Heather does not throw criticism upon the customs of the day, even subtly. She is a good example of a non-judgmental historian who looks back on flawed societies and recognizes that it was what it was. She doesn't allow modern sensibilities to cast aspersions on situations that a contemporary reader might find frustrating.

* Alternatively, the author is still willing to give a "fallen" woman the benefit of the doubt, or at least a sense of compassion. Speaking of Isabel, the harlot mentioned in Alma 39:3, she says, "What desperation and misery drove a woman to the life of a harlot? Perhaps there was little or no choice in the sense that Isabel may have been born or sold into this diabolical practice."

* Eve is mentioned in the Book of Mormon, and as such receives a chapter of her own in this book. The analysis is a beautiful tribute to our first mother, and ties the Book of Mormon to the Bible in a significant and complete way.

* Practical application. In reference to the story of the Queen of King Lamoni's Father, the author says, "In our lives, by delaying our emotional reactions and waiting for all of the facts to come in, we might discover that we had viewed the situation wrong from the beginning. When we wait, pause, or even turn to prayer for guidance and direction, we find that the correct response will often make itself manifest." Each chapter has words of wisdom that tie the scriptural account to an application to modern life.

* The presentation of the book itself is absolutely beautiful. The narrative is coupled with stunning paintings by a variety of artists.

As I mentioned, I've already quoted from this book in a presentation at a women's conference in Idaho and in my calling as Gospel Doctrine teacher. I love that Heather is a contemporary of mine, that she's a woman and is so well-read. She's an amazingly talented writer and storyteller, and this first nonfiction effort on her part is extremely well done. As a fellow author of historical fiction, I appreciate the efforts that have gone into the research used not only in her Book of Mormon novels, but in this book as well.

This book makes a wonderful gift for not only women, but men, too! I highly recommend it.

Having Strength to Mourn

It's hard for me to follow Gale's post because I haven't had much experience with the death of close loved ones. When my mother died, it was a shock but I had felt for much of my life that it would be a blessing when it did come because it would give her many answers I felt she needed. When my favorite aunt took her own life, I felt death would give her release and healing. When I learned that one of my best friends and college roommates in college had been killed on Christmas Eve by a drunk driver, I felt like I'd been slammed to the floor and the breath knocked out of me. But it would have been much harder if we'd still been roommates and as close as we'd been 20 years ago.

I did have many animals growing up and had many funeral services for them and shed many tears. And I'm grateful that God gives us animals, in part because I think it helps us practice mourning and understanding the role death plays in our lives. It is when something, or someone, we love dies that we realize God is serious, that our life here is only temporary and only a small part of our larger existence since we really don't belong here. It also helps us to realize that we truly are dependent upon God and upon the sacrifice of His son for all the good things we have in life that we value and would not want to live with, even could not imagine a life without.

Even having answers doesn't take away the pain although perhaps it diminishes it by a few ounces. And that may remind us that God, who knows everything and is perfect in his faith and strength, still felt pain at his son's pain. For those who lose children, they may be standing on particularly holy ground because they share a unique bond with our Father in Heaven, knowing the kind of loss that breaks hearts and has shaken the faith of many, and yet is permitted by our Father who wants only our eternal happiness.

My love and prayers are with you, Gale.

For Shawn

My husband lost his parents at a young age--he was eight when his father died and sixteen when his mother followed. A dear next door neighbor became a surrogate mother hen, keeping my husband and his younger sister under her loving watchful care. She became "Grandma" Ruby, and it was she who greeted me into the family.

When our first child, Shawn, came into our lives, Grandma Ruby wrote him a special letter. I would like to share it with you.

My Dear Shawn Lucien,

How very happy we are to welcome you into our warm family circle, for you have been wanted and needed for a long time.
Shawn, do you realize--well, one day you will, how blessed you were to be chosen to come into such a special home with parents and family who have waited so patiently for your safe arrival--and will love and cherish you your whole life through! Shawn, your Mom and Dad are pretty special people, as you shall learn each day--however, you must also learn to be a bit patient with them for they will make mistakes, not knowingly or intentionally, but because they love you and think they are doing the right thing--and you in turn, will also make your mistakes, but you'll always have parents who will try to understand, love you, and help you. So, go to them with your growing problems for it is a compliment to have our children ask our opinions. Yes, they will worry, and you'll also need to be disciplined, but heed their advice and accept their love, they're also new.
Shawn, eat your cereal and milk, don't keep your Mom and Dad up too many nights--and grown into a fine, strong, healthy lad.
You also have Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, and cousins who welcome you and you'll have so much fun with.
And this Grandma Ruby can hardly wait to become acquainted with you!
Grandma Ruby
I know you're a handsome lad!

Our dear son, Shawn, passed away last week, and this writing was extremely difficult to do, but I wanted to pay tribute to a wonderful man.

Shawn, we love you.
Mom and Dad

A Tough Job

Permit me a moment or two to talk politics. (From the Greek Poly, meaning Many, and Tics, meaning blood sucking parasites.) We have just had a general election, in case you didn't notice, and now have a shiny new Government charged with the very difficult task of running a country in enormous debt courtesy of the previous administration. I'm very pleased with the outcome. We don't vote for the Prime Minister, but I did vote for his party, and I'm even quite pleased that we now have a power sharing coalition government. Not only does it mean that the two parties will temper each others excesses and extremes, but Nick Clegg is a good looking guy and I felt so sorry for him only getting fifty seats.


We're prepared for a bit of austerity. We know that the Government has a really tough job ahead, trying to rebuild Britain. I don't envy them the task, any more than I envy nurses, teachers or anyone who does a job I know I couldn't do.


I have been doing my day job for twelve years. It's no longer challenging, although it is fun and varied. I could do it standing on my head, and I'm quite comfortable that I am exactly suited to my choice of career as an office administrator. Writing is another matter. I always thought it was relatively easy. I sit at a computer, and I type out a story using lots of big descriptive words. Then someone publishes it and gives me money.


I realised this past weekend that it isn't easy at all. That's not to say it isn't enjoyable, but I've decided, on a whim, that the book I am writing at the moment (a fantasy called Emon and the Empire) is to be my Magnum Opus and thus it needs to be as good, as intelligent, as gripping and as perfect as it can be. I was writing it on my laptop over the weekend and sitting next to me was a young man from our Ward who was visiting my husband. He watched me for a while, then said "Is this one you've finished and are going through?"


I replied that actually I was only about a third of the way through it, and wondered why he would have that idea. Then I realised that for the past hour I had just been reading through the chapter I had written the previous week, tweaking it, improving it, deleting from it, but I hadn't actually written any new material yet. He'd yet to see me actually write anything.

Easterfield, my last published book, was a joy to write. It fell out of my fingertips with hardly any thought or effort on my part. But Emon needs to be the very best I can do, and that means thinking about every word, drafting and redrafting chapter summaries and plot outlines, checking for character continuity, and then going back and checking what I just wrote against what I wrote three weeks ago, and basically putting in more effort than I have ever done before. It's not an easy job, but I want to do the very best I can this time and, like anything in life, that means hard work. I hadn't realised until now that writing is hard work. At least, it is if you're doing it properly. Very few of us are so naturally gifted that we can turn out witty, brilliant yet moving prose with little thought. Do you think even Terry Pratchett agonises over each paragraph?

The simple fact with writing, too, is that you don't get paid according to the work you do. Well, unless you're Sir Terry Pratchett. If I counted all the hours I spent writing a book, and then divided my royalties between them, I'd probably find I earn about $1 an hour.

But I'd still rather write than run the country, or nurse sick people, or teach unruly children. I admire people who do those near impossible jobs because I know I couldn't. But at least now I have realised that one of the jobs I do can also be a difficult one.

Transitions

The other day I heard someone exclaim that they don't like change. I'm sure my jaw hung open over that comment. Life is change. It has been my experience that nothing ever stays the same; I suspect it's part of the mortal experience.

I learned this lesson while quite young---we moved 8 times while I was growing up. This makes for entertaining moments whenever I'm asked about my hometown. Lately I've found that it's easier to express that I've lived all over Southeastern Idaho, and parts of Utah. I consider Ashton, Idaho my hometown, since that's where I graduated from high school.

I have lived in the following places: Roberts, Pocatello, Idaho Falls, Annis, Menan, Ashton, & Montpelier (all of which exist in Idaho), and my family dwelled for a time in Bountiful, Utah when I was in the fourth grade. Now if you were counting, you probably came up with seven moves. Since we moved back to Menan from Bountiful at the end of my fourth grade year, I consider that 8 moves . . . and that doesn't include the move from Montpelier to Bennington after I was married. ;)

Some of the moves were easier than others. I was about three years old when my parents left Pocatello, following my father's graduation from college. (He was a pharmacist.) That is when we moved to Annis. From there it was to Idaho Falls, after my dad completed his internship. Eventually my parents built a home in nearby Menan, and we lived there for a few years. Dad worked for Skaggs Drug in Idaho Falls during this time, then was promoted into management, and transferred to Utah. When he decided he didn't care for managing a large drugstore, we moved back to Menan, to the home my parents had built in that location. Then it was on to Ashton where my father had a chance to manage a small hometown drugstore. So on and so forth.

These moves were true character building moments---especially those that took place when I was approaching teenagehood. That age is difficult enough without the added challenge of repeatedly starting over and being labeled, "the new kid." And yet, I look back and I can see that the challenges that went along with each move helped shape me into who I am today. I learned to adapt to change, since things were rarely the same in my life. So by the time I went to college, I was used to life throwing twists my way. I was homesick for one day. Then I embraced college life and enjoyed every aspect.

One of my closest friends struggled with this experience. A friend of mine since high school, she had lived in the same place her entire life. She fought homesickness throughout our freshman year, and went home every weekend, until the time I hid her car keys. Our other roommates had conspired with me, and we kidnapped my friend, taking her to Jackson, Wyoming that Saturday. We then dragged her to a couple of college adventures that night and the next day. By the end of Sunday night, she was lecturing us for not doing something similar earlier that year. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself, overcoming the homesickness as we had helped her see the fun she was missing each weekend. Too bad there were only a couple of weeks left in what would be a final semester for her.

It has been my experience that life is often like a rollercoaster ride. There are numerous up and downs, and lots of scary stuff in the middle. ;) And yet, if you open your eyes and embrace the ride, there is a thrill not found on the complacent merry-g0-round. Ponder that analogy briefly. ;)

Through the years I have dealt with chronic illness (I've been a Type 1 diabetic since I was 19 and tested positive for lupus a few years after that), deaths of loved ones (a childhood friend passed away when we were in the 5th grade---since then I have lost grandparents, a parent, aunts, uncles, etc.), financial distress, worry over children, etc.

On the plus side, I have earned a college degree, married a wonderful man, given birth to 3 awesome sons, had 9 books published so far, and I held my beautiful first grandchild (a cute little girl) in my arms just minutes after her birth. This positive list goes on and on. There is so much of life that I have loved and savored, and I plan to savor more. I'm sure I'll be one of those who will leave this life kicking and screaming because I haven't sampled everything life has to offer. =D

Life is change. Those two words could be synonymous. If it wasn't that way, life would be stagnant. Reflect upon ponds of water that contain still water. They usually don't smell very nice after a while. This is the direct opposite of a refreshing stream that hurries forward continually. Movement\change is crucial to promoting growth. Not all growth is good\and\or\fun, I will admit, but without it, we would not progress. And how sad would it be someday to stand before our Maker and reveal that we spent our entire time in mortal mode hiding under the bed?!

Here's to enjoying the journey, making the climb, and cherishing each moment as it comes. Face the violent rainstorms with courage---even though the thunder makes us cringe, and the lightening often inspires us to run and hide. The new growth that will take place as a result is something to be appreciated, not feared. (Remind me I said all of this the next time thunderclouds appear in my sky.)

FACT OR FICTION

Critics or book reviewers for newspapers, magazines, and some online review sites receive a lot of books to read for consideration for reviews. Reviewing books is usually a fun job and as a reviewer for Meridian Magazine, I get to read some really great books. Unfortunately I also get to read some boring, dull books, some mediocre books, some poorly written books, and some books that make me wonder where was the author's editor? Over the years I've noticed a problem I don't often see addressed by workshops or helpful writers' blogs. So bear with me while I make some observations on the thin line between fact and fiction in novel writing.

Some facts are essential of course. Historic events must occur in a novel at the exact time they occurred in history. Minor flirting with time to suit a novel's storyline is excusable; major historic events can't be altered. I read a book once where a coast to coast railroad played a major role in the story, but it was set in 1852. I didn't finish the book. Great care must be taken in fictionalizing a famous or scriptural character's life. LDS fiction writers must be scrupulously careful when they mix a doctrinal element into their books to ensure that the concept being used is doctrinally correct by Church standards and not "the Gospel according to Me" sort of thing. However, this isn't the fiction/fact line I'm most concerned about at the moment. What I'm really referring to are the books where the author is obsessed with something in his/her own life or a story that happened to someone else but the writer decides it would make a good novel.

If I mention in a review that a key point in a novel is implausible, I often hear an indignant, "but that's the way it really happened." If that's the way it happened, why is the author billing his/her work as fiction? Fiction means the writer gets to make up the story; it's okay, even preferable to make a good story better when writing fiction. "Stranger than fiction" isn't a meaningless cliché. In real life things happen that in a novel just aren't believable. It's okay to use a real life experience as a base for a chapter or even the entire book, but the writer must separate him/herself from the story and concentrate on telling a great story rather than relaying facts or sticking zealously to the way the event played out in real life.

The quasi autobiography/novel doesn't often fly well for several reasons; the author tries too hard to stick to the actual events, the author is too emotionally involved to see the story's flaws, the story isn't as powerful to the reader as the experience was to the writer, or the story is undertaken by an inexperienced writer who mistakenly believes writing about one's self is easy and doesn't require spending time on research. This type of story doesn't often turn out well.

Writers, including me, are often asked where we get our ideas. Here again, there needs to be a careful line between fact and fiction. I've mentioned before that most writers play the "what if" game. Many novels begin with a news story. Some event such as the huge oil spill in the Gulf sets the "what if" game in motion for dozens of writers and here's where the novelist is separated from the journalist. The journalist has a responsibility to unearth facts and tell the story as close to those facts as possible. The novelist has no such restrictions. One novelist might build his plot around an eco-terrorist group who set up the explosion to discredit the petroleum industry and cause the suspension of offshore oil drilling. They feel certain no one will suspect environmentalists of jeopardizing wildlife and pristine beaches. They justify their action by reasoning that the sacrifice of one environmental setting will offset the many other such areas that will be saved. Another writer might focus on the heroic actions of a man who loses his life while expediting the rescue of others from the crumbling platform. A romance writer could place a brilliant female engineer on the crew struggling to close off the massive leak and let her fall in love with an oil company executive with whom she must work closely. A Science fiction writer could devise a plot around a mysterious substance injected by aliens into the hoses that snake across the ocean floor to carry oil to the surface. At first the disaster appears to be of an environmental nature, but as the oil reaches shore, it is discovered it carries a deadly, highly contagious disease meant to spread through birds and sea life to wipe out human life. Even comedy writers might wonder "what if" an overzealous and ditzy hairdresser decided, through fair means or foul, to collect a ton of hair to donate to the cause of making huge ink blotters to absorb the oil floating toward the Louisiana coast.

All of these "what ifs" started from the same facts, but the various fiction writers are only constrained by the need for factual accuracy concerning how the oil disperses, the damage potential of the spill, and natural, biological, and scientific laws. Some may need to take a look at US and international law concerning oil production. The fiction writers can move the oil spill to another location, change the principal people and companies involved, make the spill larger or smaller, or do any number of things to the story until the reader forgets they all started with a real event. A life is a real event, but like most vacation photos, few people want to sit through a detailed, chronological, mustn't leave anything out, replay of someone else's amazing trip. A novel that feels suspiciously like watching someone else's two hundred vacation slides isn't good fiction.

Good fiction writers need to learn how to balance fact and fiction while leaving straight factual reporting to journalists and biographers. The best novelists place their emphasis on telling a good story, whether it happened that way or not.