August 16, 2012

Allusion

Last week, I read Bram Stoker’s Dracula for an online class I’m taking with my friends Cory and Dustin (also known as “Dut” for reasons yet unknown to me). I tried to read it a couple summers ago, but I got so scared I could only read outside, in broad daylight, and finally I gave up all together. (I think I picked up The Shack instead … not my finest literary moment.) This time, though, I pushed through, even though I nearly bit my nails off. I mean, what would I tell Cory and Dut if I didn’t finish? They are boys, you know, and I didn’t want to come off like a frightened little girl.

• • •

August 15, 2012

Plot

Each morning on my 5-minute commute, I get caught behind a truck that waters the flower baskets hanging from every telephone pole on the town’s main roads. Rumor has it, taking care of those flowers is a full-time, city-paid job. This is small town living, where my tax dollars go toward plant care instead of food for the drug dogs. Isn’t that fantastic?

• • •

August 14, 2012

Soliloquy

Blog Wars rules require each warrior to guest post at least once on each of the competition blogs. Today, I welcome Warrior Cory of A Multitude of Drops. I met Cory about a year ago now, when he was introduced to me as one half of “The Boys.” While initially just friends of my roommate, I’m happy to say I’ve bonded with both Cory and Dustin (the other “boy”) over Killer Bunnies, Josh Hutcherson, and now Gothic literature. Cory’s varied interests and his keen intelligence make him a worthy opponent, indeed. In a move that was either genius or cheap, he spoofed my earlier post, reminding us that airline employees aren’t the only one who have it rough:

• • •

August 14, 2012

Soliloquy

From 2006-2011, I was a proud employee of Delta Airlines. My mama just had her 14th anniversary with Delta, and my big brother did a stint as a ramp agent in college, so it’s about the closest thing we have to a family business. (Other than being right. And awesome.) I loved working for Delta. The airport was such a fun environment, my coworkers were AWESOME, and passengers were easy enough to deal with … most of the time. Let’s just say some people get, um, hostile when they’re traveling. It’s alright though. At some point in her life, every woman needs to be called an ugly **** **** for no apparent reason, right? Character building.

• • •

August 13, 2012

An Aside: On Writing

The other day my wonderful sister-in-law asked for my top ten writing tips. Well, as my fellow blog-warrior has pointed out, I love knowing things. Me? Share advice? You betcha. But really, while I can’t speak for my own work, lots of reading and a great education have given me a feel for what makes good writing. I am, of course, happy to join in a long tradition of writing about writing. These are the standards I remind myself of and some of the most common issues I find when I’m editing. Obviously this list isn’t exhaustive, and I’m thinking primarily of creative, rather than academic or journalistic writing. Starting with the most important, in case I lose people along the way:

1. Know that your words are shadows of the Word. Yes, I’m going to get a bit abstract. I really believe great work flows from a sound theology, or at least a philosophy, of art. John’s Gospel tell us Jesus is the Word, the Reality to which all words ultimately point. The Word was the agent of creation (John 1:3), and when we write, when we create, we are reflecting Him and participating in redemption. Think about it — to write is, in a small way, to bring order from chaos. On my best days, I sit down to write knowing I’m taking up a sacred task. The words matter, deeply. Understanding this, I can tell you, changes everything.

• • •

August 12, 2012

Let the Games Begin

What do you get when competitive nerds start tweeting on an introverted Friday night? Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Blog Wars 2012. For the next week, Cory, Kelcie, and I are vying for the title of Most Prolific Blogger. Whoever writes the most posts by next Sunday wins.

• • •

August 10, 2012

Plot

Life is beautiful. In a world of sunsets and back roads and skyscrapers and movies and fireflies, how can anyone have time to be bored? We forget, and we live as if an 8 to 5 cubicle existence is all we can ask for. Too many of us are weary and disillusioned, when all around us the most shocking and wonderful things happen. Why is this? How can so many, even the young, feel that life is simply something to be endured? What’s gone wrong with our souls?

• • •

August 7, 2012

Soliloquy

Another near-poetic musing:

What romance so indwells the sunset? Why can I not sit alone on a hillside to watch the sky fade without feeling something missing? The evening breeze and the cricket song receive all the attention they deserve from this lone admirer, so why do they seem to wonder where He is? Perhaps the sky, the painted clouds, and the evening landscape are a bit shy, and prefer not to be my sole focus. So I concede, that I too am wondering where He is. I am, to be honest, a bit annoyed that the crickets brought it up. But, for the moment, it’s just me, and they’ll have to be content.

• • •

August 3, 2012

An Aside

Each night, I go to bed with a 1’4” stuffed bear called Howard. He may appear to be a little stiff, but he fits perfectly in the crook of my arm and is actually rather snuggly. One of his ears is a little smaller than the other, which makes him look just a trifle mischievous, I think. He’s settled into a quiet, dignified look as he’s grown older, his only real sign of age being a small discolored spot on his left ankle. Over the last twenty-some-odd years, a tight bond has formed between Howard and me. Truth be told, I can’t sleep without him.

• • •

July 29, 2012

Character

Yesterday, I stood with my best friend as she took a new name. Thinking back over everything, in the back seat of CRV somewhere on the New York Thruway, I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. Stirring music, words of covenant, Elisabeth in white, a bride adorned and prepared for her groom — glimpses of a deep mystery.

This is not the first time I’ve been a bridesmaid. In fact, this was number 8. I cherish each experience and love each woman who has asked me to be part of her wedding day, but this one is different. I’ve shared in it differently, and the tears that are still intermittently clouding my eyes remind me there’s more to this story than a ceremony.

• • •
1 … 5 6 7 8 9