Author, Wife, Busy Mom, A Woman after God's Heart.

Tag: thankfulheart

Writing – A Marriage between You and the Screen

It takes many drafts to make one beautiful, messy masterpiece.

Writing and authoring novels is like dating to get married. It’s a big commitment. A casual affair won’t work for the writer. Sure, some of you have tried writing, but dabbling in it is not the same as being dedicated and writing for a living.

Terrible drafts unlike awful dates can be massaged and salvaged. Think of all the copies stuffed in some drawer never to be looked at again. It’s doubt that is the killer. Or, maybe you are just a poor writer. It’s okay if this endeavor is not your thing, or what you expected it to be.

Expected? A simple word that holds a lot of weight, so much that a paper towel couldn’t absorb this amount of liquid.

Let’s define expectation…

Expectation:

noun

The act or the state of expecting: to wait in expectation.

The act or state of looking forward or anticipating.

An expectant mental attitude: a high pitch of expectation.

Something expected; a thing looked forward to.

Often expectations: a prospect of future good or profit: to have great expectations.

The degree of probability that something will occur: There is little expectation that he will come.

Most young girls dream of that perfect wedding. A handsome prince that will sweep them off their feet and together, they will live happily ever after. Ah, let me be blunt, I think today’s women and men have realized those days are slim. Chivalry in both genders are depleting. We are too preoccupied and self-absorbed. Screen-time has replaced face-time. Even the age for marriage has gone up. The average age is now 27 years old for women, and 29 years old for men.

With that being said, most people after a certain age choose not to marry. Why? Too much work, set in their ways, they can do everything themselves, and are financially stable. Why take the plunge of marriage when in the U.S. alone, the statistic of divorce is 40-50% for every one marriage.

Some folks I’ve spoken with have said they’d like to write a book. Great, go for it. Wait till they realize how difficult it is. One doesn’t just sit at a computer and type away, and BOOM, you’ve written a book. Yes, that’s how it starts, but you have to keep writing and rewriting until there is a semblance of a storyline. There are rules, such as grammar and punctuation. I’m not talking about emoji’s or abbreviated words. I’m talking about real sentences with commas and periods, and structure, as in a story having a beginning, middle, and end.

The initial draft of a story can be compared to a first date, often awkward. I’ve also heard from some writers that their early manuscripts are some of their best works. Best, as in original, emotional, descriptive, and carefree. Why? Because it’s the very first draft, the first impression, and why not make it your best?

But, that first (draft or date), can be improved. To do so, you have to be willing to share and be open, or else how do you know to continue on?

If a first draft is your FIRST date, what is marriage? Marriage is the countless rough copies/versions of the same story. I can confirm that statement. It took me nine years and 27 versions of “Love’s Perfect Surrender” before the final copy of the story. It took me a year and a half and fourteen versions of “Petrella the Gillian Princess,” and six months and seven versions of “A Tribute to Tulipia”.

I know what you’re thinking. Your drafts keep going down in numbers. True. If you practice writing long enough, you will make progress, but, Petrella, the Gillian Princess and A Tribute to Tulipia were much shorter in book length, and that makes a difference.

I’m currently working on a novel, “Make it Right; Make it Matter”. It has taken me roughly twelve years to write it with 34 versions to date. Eh, who’s counting? I keep tweaking and tweaking because I know it’s not quite finished, yet. Why do all that work? Because it is my “sophomore” full-length novel, and I sincerely believe in the tale so much, I want to make sure it’s done as best as it can be.

Back to marriage. In long-term relationships, people change, and if you believe in the “us” then you will understand that those changes affect the ebb and flow of a union. However, if you are open to growth, are sincere, and devoted, those changes and differences can be overcome. It takes many drafts to make one beautiful, messy masterpiece.

For the first time writer, or the writer who has been at it for years, and this is your TRUE desire, stay the course. Some days and years, the writing will be euphoric and will flow out of you like water from a garden hose. Other times, writer’s block kicks in and that flowing hose, well, it will get rock sediments in there. That is marriage. Keeping the “I do” at the forefront of your relationships and continuing to pour love into each other even if there are pebbles along the way.

Remember to love those days, these days, and all the days because seasons of setbacks can often lead to seasons of soaring.

I’m going to leave you with something. In writing and relationships, you’re going to have to:

Just like marriage vows, writers need a vow too. Make a copy of this and post it on a wall in front of your work space. Let it be a reminder to commit in your writing endeavor.

I_________(your name) take thee pen and paper (or, keyboard and computer) to use as my imagination tools for writing each and every day. I promise to trust the process and persevere no matter what.

Until next time…

References

https://www.dictionary.com/browse/expectation

https://bestlifeonline.com/average-marriage-age-united-states/

https://www.womenshealthmag.com/relationships/a19567270/average-age-of-marriage/

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/reasons-not-to-get-married_n_5274911

https://www.quora.com/Why-dont-some-people-get-married-or-decide-never-to-marry

https://www.apa.org/topics/divorce/

https://www.divorcemag.com/articles/us-divorce-statistics-and-divorce-rate-2000-2017/

https://www.quora.com/Is-it-true-that-the-first-draft-of-any-novel-is-always-shit-and-bad

https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/there-are-no-rules/fruitless-first-draft-struggles

https://lithub.com/7-methods-for-writing-your-first-draft/

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/perfect-first-draft/

https://medium.com/startup-grind/why-you-should-not-write-a-book-c34d260d4550

https://wordskies.wordpress.com/2015/07/05/everyone-wants-to-write-a-book/

https://www.nytimes.com/2002/09/28/opinion/think-you-have-a-book-in-you-think-again.html

The Very Next Thing…

Have you ever wanted to alter, reverse, or change an uncomfortable situation that you happen to be in?

Come on, can I hear a…Ah yeah!!!

Good. Me too. Plenty of times. It’s like a video reel of regret that plays continuously over and over in your head.

This last time was over the top. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve been having nightmares of would of, could of, and should of… only to awake in a drenched sweat and a thankful heart.

What appeared to be an innocent maneuver of fun had turned into a life threatening event. Vacationing in the warm water beaches of Florida, I had an opportunity to try Stand Up Paddle Board (SUP) surfing. For those who don’t know what SUP is, here is a brief description:

“The fastest growing water sport in the world, stand up paddle boarding came from humble beginnings back in 2004 when it first touched down on U.S. shores. It’s now overtaking nearly every body of water in the world. You can do it in oceans, lakes, rivers, and bays – even a swimming pool if you so desire. It’s a great full body core workout, and it’s a whole new way to experience the water in the outdoors.”

I’ve never paddle surfed before. How hard could it be?

It was a free fifteen-minute trial. You see, three young twenty-something year-olds had just come back from paddle surfing, raving about their experience. The rental supervisor was waiting for them on the beach so that they could return the boards, when my husband struck up a conversation with the man. He graciously offered us a trial while he put the other boards back onto his truck.

My husband knowing I liked all things water-related, offered for me to try the paddle board. The man encouraged me as well.

“Yes, yes. You will like it. It’s easy,” he said.

No need for any arm twisting, I was eager to try it. The supervisor then demonstrated how to hold the paddle: one hand on top of the lever, and the other hand on the shaft. I wasn’t comfortable standing, so he suggested I kneel.

That day, the water was higher than the previous days we had on the beach. The breeze was pushing out toward the sea, and the waves were soft and airy as they splashed upon the sand.

I Velcro-strapped the paddle board leash to my ankle and hopped on the board. At that moment, there weren’t many people in the water, and I paddled smoothly away from land.

My husband snapped a few pictures as I glided out. My intention was to go out a bit, and then turn around. I’m a decent swimmer, but when the water is deep, I don’t like it much.

I looked back and saw I was still close to shore. My daughters were waving at me. Yes, I felt like a cool mom—Wonder Woman.

As the waves carried me out, I became overtaken by the beauty of the deep green color of the water. Soon, I was moving a little faster, and realized the “No Swimming” pole was coming up quick. I turned back and saw I had gone farther than I had anticipated. So, I began paddling to turn the board around.

It became obvious to me after a few seconds that I might be paddling the wrong way—I couldn’t remember what the man had told me. Soon, the pole was inches from me, I quickly jabbed the pole with my paddle to push-off of it and swing around, instead the board bumped right past it.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw my husband, getting tinier and tinier and so I waved in panic for him. Oh Jesus, could he see me?

“Help,” I screamed.

But, I was too far away for anyone to really hear me.

I began to panic and so I paddled and paddled, but it was useless, I was being pulled out farther and farther into the deeper waters. Crap. I don’t like deep water! The paddle felt suddenly heavy. My heart was beating rapidly.

Got to breathe…Got to breathe…My kids! I got to get back to my girls. I have to try again.

And so, I plunged the paddle into the water and started paddling again. I have to do it right this time. Come on, damn it, come on…

It was eerily quiet out on the water. I couldn’t see my kids on the sand. Where did they go? Are they still safe? Shit!

I was all alone. Having two, beautiful, active daughters, I’m never by myself, and I’ve often craved “my alone” time. Well, I was getting it now, and suddenly I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I wanted my husband and daughters…I wanted my crazy, chaotic life back.

I needed help. And I needed help fast. I was insanely scared, and I started praying to God to save me somehow. Oh Lord, what have done? I’m so sorry. Sorry for how I’ve been toward my girls and my husband. Please, please, help me.

My help came via my husband— running into the water and swimming toward me. But gosh, he was so far away. How long would it take for him to reach me? Would he reach me at all?

Seeing him, gave me encouragement, and so I fought with the paddle, and I was able to rotate the board and head toward my husband and land.

We moved slowly toward each other in a breathless attempt to get closer and closer. And, when he reached me, exhausted, I jumped into the water, momentarily sinking but then frantically coming up for air and grabbing onto the board. Together, we gradually swam with the board toward shore.

The scary/sad part of this whole experience was that with at least twenty or so people in our surrounding area where we had our towels and umbrella, not one other person came into the water and helped.

I repeat…NOT ONE. NOT ONE DAMN PERSON. Even the rental supervisor wasn’t near the water. He was off loading the boards.

Maybe we didn’t look like we needed help, but I personally would have thought it odd to see someone floating on a paddle board going farther out, while another person swimming hastily toward them. Doesn’t that seem out of sorts to you?

Both of my daughters were thankfully safe. They stayed put under the umbrella, but they had been screaming hysterically. They had gotten frightened and thought my husband and I would never come back. Who could blame them? Seeing their father swim out to sea toward their mother who was drifting in deep water.

We tried remaining calm as best as we can as we swam back. When we got back on land; beat beyond belief, I tried smiling as best as I could and reassured the girls that all was okay.

“No big deal. Momma just paddled way too far. Papa is our hero and brought Momma back. See, we are all fine.”

But, inside my gut, I was shaking uncontrollably—wondering what could have become of me if my husband hadn’t come out?

We spent the rest of the day and evening talking to our children about the situation, keeping it light, but stressing the importance of “water” safety and for them to consider retaking swimming lessons again.

Lesson Learned—straight out of the mouths of babes: “Momma, don’t’ try something if aren’t sure how to do it, even if it was free.”

And, they were right. I let them down. I had panicked and that was what had gotten me in trouble. Had I laid on my stomach and paddled with my arms in the water instead of the stupid paddle, maybe it might have been easier to turn around and come to shore. Maybe I should have hopped off as soon as I knew I had gone too far, and just swam back? Maybe if…Maybe if…Maybe if…Too many “maybe ifs” to account for.

I was lucky my husband had come; I hadn’t even considered the threat of sharks (that’s another story altogether).

I praise God, for this second chance of life. I really, really do. This chance to make it right to the Lord, somehow in the …Very Next Thing…

What is it that He wants from me in my very next thing?

Now it’s your turn: What is God asking you to do in your very next thing?

NOTE: This blog was inspired by Casting Crowns:The Very Next Thing”.  Click here for video.

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