Writing Prompt November 9, 2009

I’ve been participating (sporadically) in the November poem a day chapbook challenge on Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer. I wanted to share my favorite prompt from this week.

I want you to take the phrase “Maybe (blank),” replace the (blank) with a word or phrase, and write a poem using that new phrase as your title. Some example titles: “Maybe we really did need a bigger boat,” “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me,” “Maybe never,” “Maybe baby,” and so on.

Here’s what I came up with:

Maybe Someone Else Should Cut His Hair

As the cat bats dirty-blonde tufts across the floor
soft tumbleweeds
My brother rubs his scalp
surveying the damage
Mom stands with her hands on her hips,
“That was not what I had in mind.”

 

I’d love to see what you come up with! What do you think of this writing prompt and writing prompts in general?

 

Money Saving Tip: Stop Buying Granola! November 2, 2009

I’ll be the first to admit that buying all natural foods can cause sticker shock, especially in the cereal aisle. My husband and I love granola and for months we gladly forked over the $3.79 for a 13.5 ounce box (that lasted about three days).

Then I realized that the primary component of granola is rolled oats, and rolled oats are cheap. Hmmmm ….

So I tried making my own with wonderful results! So far, I like this recipe best.

Here’s a cost breakdown:

Olive Oil- I make sure to buy olive oil in a solid container, olive oil in glass bottles loses some nutrients on the shelf. So I buy the Filippo Berio in the metal containers. It’s right around $25.00 for three quarts. So one and a quarter tablespoons costs  about 13 cents.

Oats- Meijer sells rolled oats in bulk for 79 cents a pound, I’ll go ahead and say we used a full pound.

Butter- I buy organic butter at Meijer for $5.00 a pound. So 1/3 cup costs about 75 cents.

Honey-I buy raw honey at Apple Valley for $12.25 for 5 pounds, 1/4 cup costs around 61 cents.

Molasses- I bought a 15oz jar of unsulphered molasses at Apple Valley for $5.19 a tablespoon costs around 16 cents

Dried fruit- I put in 1/2 cup of raisins which cost about thirty-eight cents.

So I pay about $2.05 for six cups of granola. To buy that same amount from the store would cost $5.31. So If I we bought a box every other week, we’re saving about $86 a year just in granola! Also by making my own I know everything in the granola is wholesome and I don’t get shorted on raisins.

So there’s my money saving tip for the week! What do you do to save on groceries, specifically at breakfast?

Happy Eating!

Fruitless Envy November 1, 2009

There are certain people in my life who seem to have exactly what I want:

• the comfort of a great (non-temporary) job they are passionate about,
• the adoration of a loving husband,
• the creativity that can spark awe in the dullest of imaginations,
• impressively productive will power,
• the cute kids,
• means to support so many different good causes,
• world-wide travel,
• an adventuresome nature that goes beyond “what if”.

And those are just a few of the things.

Sometimes those people spark me as inspiration, like when Katie came up with the reason and the means for us to dress as ninjas and slink through the night to spy on a suspected statue thief. There’s no way I would have done that on my own, and that’s become one of my favorite memories, largely for that reason alone.

There are other times, however, when I become envious of the people I hope would have inspired me. For instance, I see no relationship or children in the near future. Yes, I steal other people’s children on occasion, but I’m repeatedly told that it’s not the same as having your own.

I’m fully aware of the fact that the Bible describes envy as “unclean” (Mark 7:22) and “meaningless” (Ecclesiastes 4:4), and that it says it “rots your bones” (Proverbs 14:30). It’s true. No matter how much motivation envy brings about, you never really achieve what you were aiming at. You never truly are satisfied with what you have.

Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary puts it this way:

¹en·vy

Pronunciation: \ˈen-vē\

Function: noun

Date: 13th century

1 : painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage

Clearly, that pain is not going to be comforted by some sort of effort on our part. The pain only leaves when “the desire to possess the same advantage” leaves. We need to learn to be thankful for where we are in life and for what we have. As I’m repeatedly telling the preschoolers in my Sunday school class, we have many, many things that God’s given us to be thankful for. We just have to take the time to think about them.

So, as I sit and look at that list, I wonder, How can I turn that around?

• the comfort of a great (non-temporary) job they are passionate about, I have a job, one that has potential to become permanent.
• the adoration of a loving husband, I’m not so old that this could never happen. I know someone who found love at 80 years of age.
• the creativity that can spark awe in the dullest of imaginations, God has given us resources to inspire us on our not-so-creative days.
• impressively productive will power, God gives me the strength to get done what needs to be.
• the cute kids, I steal everyone else’s kids . . . and I get to give them back!
• means to support so many different good causes, I can pray, and I know firsthand that God answers those prayers.
• world-wide travel, I learn something new about where I live on a regular basis, and I have traveled far more than the average Joe.
• an adventuresome nature that goes beyond “what if”. I am inspired and challenged by friends around me, even if those friends are only two to five years old.

How can you take your list of things you envy in others and turn them into reasons to be thankful?

Writing Gems from Annie Dillard October 27, 2009

Novelist Alexander Chee recently wrote a beautiful, thoughtful essay about the time he studied writing under Annie Dillard. The essay is sprinkled with Dillard’s insightful little gems about the art and craft of writing, like this one:

• Don’t worry about being original … Yes, everything’s been written, but also, the thing you want to write, before you wrote it, was impossible to write. Otherwise it would already exist. You writing it makes it possible.

Okay, so they’re the sort of gems that make you scratch your head, lose yourself in confused contemplation for several minutes, and still think that maybe the idea is too advanced for a lowly mortal to comprehend. But still, the essay is certainly worth some head-scratching.

Apart from the writing insights he learned from Dillard, Alexander Chee offers yummy descriptive sentences all his own, like this one about revising:

• You could think that your voice as a writer would just emerge naturally, all on its own, with no help whatsoever, but you’d be wrong. What I saw on the page was that the voice is in fact trapped, nervous, lazy. Even, and in my case, most especially, amnesiac. And that it had to be cut free.

To me, this says that just writing a lot isn’t enough to find my voice. I must write consistently, with discipline, then cut out the bad bits, the lazy, nervous, and “trapped” bits, and what is left over after I’ve filled in these now-empty spaces may be my “voice.”

I’ll leave you with a final quote from the essay, something Annie Dillard said in her class:

• Talent isn’t enough … Writing is work. Anyone can do this, anyone can learn to do this. It’s not rocket science, it’s habits of mind and habits of work.

Headphones October 26, 2009

Back in April, Jars of Clay released their newest CD called “Long Fall Back to Earth.” Instantly, I was a fan. (In fact, I think it’s been out of my car for maybe a week total since then. I listen to it all the time.) The song called “Headphones”, however, reminded me of my one true addiction in high school (besides chasing the boys, of course).

I couldn’t go anywhere without them. I had them at school (so that I could listen on the trip to and from, of course), while I cleaned our church, on quiz trips. You name the place, and I probably had my headphones with me. Back then we didn’t have mp3 players, so I had to settle for lugging around my tote of CDs as well. I wasn’t even deterred when my CDs were stolen at a church camp, it just proved that I needed to keep them with me rather than leave them with my stuff.

One of the times I was at work cleaning the church, the pastor of my church said something to me in passing, something I took personally and was offended by at the time, but now I look back and realize that he was right. He said something to me about  how maybe I spent too much time listening to music, that it was an idol to me.

Looking back, I realize that I used them to block out everything going on around me. I claimed that I just connected with the music and used it as an “outlet” to “express my feelings.” In reality, I was expressing nothing. I was listening to others express while I only empathized with what was being said, as if I knew the lives of the artists or something.

Since then, I’ve learned of other ways to actually think for myself and express my own thoughts. (Crazy, I know!) Writing has become one of those outlets. I wrote minimally in high school, but college is when I realized quite how much I could use them to my benefit. Now, let’s just hope that I don’t become quite as dependent on my pen as I was on my headphones back then.

I’ve included the lyrics (and a link to a YouTube clip) to the song I mentioned at the beginning in case you want to know the exact lyrics.

“Headphones”
by Jars of Clay

I don’t have to hear it, if I don’t want to.
I can drown this out, pull the curtains down on you.
it’s a heavy world, it’s too much for me to care.
If I close my eyes, it’s not there.

With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on

We watch television, but the sound is something else,
Just a song played against the drama, so the hurt is never felt
I take in the war-fires, and I’m chilled by the current events
It’s so hopeless, but there’s a pop song in my

Headphones on, in my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on

At the Tube Stop, you sit down across from me.
(I can see you looking back at me)
I think I know you
By the sad eyes that I see.
I want to tell you
(It’s a heavy world)
Everything will be okay –
You wouldn’t hear it,
(I don’t want to have to hear it)
So we go our separate ways

With our headphones on, with our headphones on
With our headphones on, with our headphones on

I don’t wanna be the one who tries to figure it out,
I don’t need another reason I should care about you,
You don’t want to know my story,
You don’t want to own my pain,
Living in a heavy, heavy world,
And there’s a pop song in my head,
I don’t want to have to hear it.

My Writing Verse October 26, 2009

I’m not sure if other writers have a verse that applies particularly to their writing, but I have a verse that helps me type that next word.

Did God wake me up in the middle of the night with a verse in my mind? No. After discovering my “writing verse” did I hop on the computer and cheerily pound out 50,000 words? No. In fact, God gave me that verse in the midst of my biggest writing struggle and it did not end instantly.

During my senior year in college, I often found myself staring at a blank screen. Any thoughts I’d had before writing drained out of my ears. But I didn’t have the luxury of avoidance because of my writing classes. I had to extract each word like a dentist pulling out a bad tooth.  And of course when I edited my writing, everything seemed terrible. I’d shake my head and say to myself, I should be better by now. Why in the world did I think I could do this?

During my daily Bible reading one afternoon, I stumbled across this verse in 1 Corinthians.

1 Corinthians 2:3-5 (The Message, emphasis mine)

^{3 -5}I was unsure of how to go about this, and felt totally inadequate—I was scared to death, if you want the truth of it—and so nothing I said could have impressed you or anyone else. But the Message came through anyway.

I’m not sure how many times I read it, but each time a wave of relief rolled over me.

Paul was scared? Paul felt inadequate? Yes. And despite his inadequacy, God used him to spread the Gospel. And He will use me too. Yes, I need to give my best effort, but after that, God will use my words,  no matter how bumbling, to tell His beautiful story.

That thought makes me brave enough to keep writing. Eventually, as I persisted the words came easier. One day I found myself on the other side of that dark tunnel. I think part of my problem was the pressure I’d put on myself to be perfect. (See my old post on perfectionism.) But when I do my best and leave the rest to God, writing, though still had work can be immensely rewarding.

Do you have a verse that God has specifically give you for your calling? Please share!

Words speak louder than actions October 24, 2009

You know the cliche, “actions speak louder than words”? Unfortunately for me, when it comes to blogging, the reverse is true. I spend time thinking about possible blog post topics, researching ideas, reading about blogging tips and tricks, studying my favorite bloggers, and generally taking all sorts of actions related to my blog. Except for writing the actual words. It doesn’t matter how much thought I give to my words if no one can ever read them because I don’t write them. I’m sure you all would prefer to read something funny, interesting, timely, and/or helpful, but you would also probably (hopefully!) prefer  to read something rather than nothing at all. So, here’s something.

I spend almost as much time on my Windows Mobile smart phone (currently an HTC Mogul on Alltel) as I do on my computer, which is a lot of time. So I’m considering whether blogging from my phone is a workable solution. Although I can’t see writing a 1,000-word post on a virtual keyboard the size of my thumb, “mini-posts” would be possible.

I know, it’s not a technical term, but often I get ideas during the day that I would love to share, but I don’t have time to sit and flesh out the idea right then, and I forget by the time I do. So to help remedy my lack of words in relation to action, I am giving myself permission to not always flesh out my thoughts and ideas – to just give them to you raw and fresh, and you can make of me what you will.

And if you have a mobile device, check out WordPress’s new mobile themes, which hopefully make it even easier to read your favorite blogs (like LifeInk!) on your phone!

Wizard of Oz Fun October 19, 2009

Writing my last post on The Wizard of Oz got me thinking about all the cool Oz memorabilia out there. I have my own personal collection (largely thanks to Michelle) of knick knacks and each piece has meaning. But here’s some other stuff I found while perusing the internet.

Here’s an Arabian style “test slipper” MGM played with several designs before choosing the ones you see in the film. Debbie Reynolds own them now.

These gorgeous ruby slipper replicas were made by Fairy Dust Shoes you can even get them in green, for when Dorothy was in Emerald City or silver, the original color in Frank L. Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

If you can’t get enough of the ruby slippers (or can’t afford the replica’s) here’s a book that tracks each known pair of slippers and where they are today.

This t-shirt, print and cute journal were my favorites of the Oz items sold at the Warner Brother’s Store.

I could do a whole separate post on some of the awful Oz merchandise, raunchy adult costumes, talking clocks and flying monkeys salt and pepper shakers. But I’m choosing to stay positive.

What are some of your favorite things to collect and how do you keep them from getting unwieldy?

The Ethics of Temp Work October 13, 2009

Lately, I’ve been working for a temp agency in town. It’s been a great way to keep up on bills while not having a permanent job, and I’ve been very thankful for the work. This weekend, however, I realized that I’m dealing with an interesting dilemma by accepting some of this work.

While looking for a job, one of the things that I am looking to most is that I want to work somewhere I can agree with the morals and the standards of the company. In taking a temp job, I haven’t even considered that. I just say, “Well, I’m thankful for the work.” It’s true, I am very thankful for the work, but at the same time, I’m sitting there thinking, I can’t stand that I am here promoting what I don’t agree with.

So, I guess I’m asking if this makes me a hypocrite. Should I turn down work because I don’t think that people should be involved in sending out mass mailings? (But it’s marketing, right?) Or should I turn down work because I’d be manning a table at a conference for a company I think is a scam? (But I’m just making a couple bucks and the agency didn’t tell me the name of the company I’d be working for, right?)

Is the couple bucks an hour worth my time and my guilt? I still don’t know.

Wizard of Oz 70th October 12, 2009

While strolling through the local Barnes and Noble, I passed a sign announcing 2009 marked the 70th anniversary of the release of MGM’s, The Wizard of Oz.

Like millions of other people, I loved, and still love, The Wizard of Oz. I watched it hundreds of time as a child, and it still cheers me up as an adult.

As a child, however, I missed the whole point of the movie. You know, the bit about Dorothy trying to go home. From the first time I watched Dorothy step out of the amber and sepia farmhouse into the Technicolor world of Oz, I knew I wanted to go there too. But unlike Dorothy, I would never look back.

I’m not sure why I chose the particular day I did. My cousin Tony had come over to play and I remember Dad was going to important man-work in the basement. I was not allowed to play outside. “I don’t even want to hear the door open,” he said.

But for whatever reason, I choose that day to leave for Oz. I put on the Dorothy costume my mother had made for me that previous Halloween, carefully divided my hair into pig-tails and packed a suitcase with crayons, coloring books (something to do while waiting for the tornado) and clean underwear. I tried to drag along my basset hound, Cleo. At eighty pounds, I knew she was too big to fit in my suitcase, but she would have to do.

“Come on, Toto!” I tugged on her collar. She licked my hand and resumed dozing.

Could I get to Oz without a dog? I couldn’t back out now. I stood at the door and looked at Tony. He waved sadly.

“You could come too, I think.”

“I don’t like the flying monkeys.”

At that, we bid farewell. I opened the screen door, picturing my grand entrance into Munchkinland. Until I heard my father stomp up the basement stairs.

I ran out the door as fast as my little legs could carry me.

I always picture this part of the story from the neighbor’s perspective.  On this beautiful, sunny day a chubby, five-year-old Dorothy bursts out from the house next door, her little ruby slippers pounding the pavement for all they’re worth. Before the screen door even shuts behind her, a large, disgruntled man charges outside chasing little Dorothy. He doesn’t even need monkey wings.  In about five seconds he catches her, spanks her and carries under his arm, kicking and yelling, into the house.

I doubt I made it out of the front yard. Worse, my parents forbid me from watching The Wizard of Oz for a year.

Despite my overzealousness, Oz touched a special place in my heart. I think it awakened in me what C.S. Lewis called sehnsucht, the inconsolable longing. A longing I thought could be filled somewhere over the rainbow.

Now I know better. Even Oz, though beautiful and mysterious wasn’t as wonderful as it first seemed. In the book, the Emerald City wasn’t well, emerald. They just made everyone wear green tinted glasses. And in the movie who could forget that famous fake wizard, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.”

My heart didn’t ache for a talking scarecrow or Munchkinland. It longed to stand in the presence of Jesus. The beauty of his kingdom surpasses even the most active imagination. And someday, I will get there; the inconsolable longing will be satisfied. I’ll look deep into face and will finally get, “There’s no place like home.”

For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better. ²² But if I live, I can do more fruitful work for Christ. So I really don’t know which is better. ²³ I’m torn between two desires: I long to go and be with Christ, which would be far better for me.

Philippians 1:21-23 (NLT)