Oct 22, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Will Power and the Haunted House
This is the true story of Will Power. Will was given to me by my mom one year. I keep Will with me at all times, always within arm’s reach. Even so, sometimes I forget about Will Power.
I used to take Will Power to work with me every day. Will would keep me company as I drove to and from errands, took care of the house, spent time with my family, and faced things I’d rather run away from.
Will Power Close & Personal
This is Will. No, not the ghost who looks a bit like Casper. Look again. See, there he is: a tiny thing, to be sure. But just like Jiminy Cricket, his little presence certainly packs a punch.
Will is my reminder that I can do anything, be anyone, take care of whatever needs taking care of… and if I can’t, I can find someone who can!
This particular day, Will Power faced a deep internal struggle. There was a very scary place that he didn’t want to go to, but knew, for his healthy future, he had to… it was that Haunted House of a place known as
The Dentist’s Office. (insert terrifying horror-movie scream, here.)
As with any terrifying upcoming event, Will Power began to shake and wonder if maybe there was a way out of it; if perhaps, going to the dentist wasn’t as necessary as he was being told. Past experiences being what they were, this wasn’t the treat he was looking for. It didn’t take long before Will’s Hallowe’en costume resembled that of an ostrich with his head buried in the sand.
“Sand is okay,” he thought. “It’s earthy. It’s beachy. I can live with sand.” Until it got in his mouth. And aggravated him. A lot.
It wasn’t long before Will Power was faced with the determination that two hours in the chair was better than three months of endless pain. So he bit the bullet… or, would have, if his teeth had let him.
Will Power and I set the appointment. He thought it was apropo that, upon entering, there were cobwebs and scaries about. Yes, it had been a while since our teeth were professionally cared for. But we fought our way in and decided to stay. At least for a while.
We were asked to come back, and while I didn’t care to, Will Power told me it was necessary, and he would not leave me alone. He went with me. He sat with me in the chair of noise, under the bright lights and creepy things. He whispered in my ear and held my hand; assuring me it would be over soon. I listened to nothing but him, saw nothing but him, and hummed a lullaby, just for him.
Until finally, the cobwebs were cleared out and we could exit the Haunted House with a feeling of conquering, of accomplishment.
Like any good Haunted House, we’ll be back next year. But at least next time around, we’ll know what to expect. And we’ll floss out the cobwebs before we get there. We may even go in the off-season, only to find there’s nothing to really be afraid of.
Oct 21, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
[For the original article, click here.]
This prose was inspired by a house in my neighborhood. It was the old house of a high school friend, and over the decades I’ve watched it go from being well cared for by his parents and family, to being taken over by strangers, to being abandoned and ultimately, completely rundown: a hazard and an eyesore to the community.
In the past few months, the property was sold, and as I drove by every few days, I took mental notes of the activity going on: The siding came off. The windows were knocked out. Everything was removed and demolished except for the frame and the worn roof. I held my breath in anticipation of soon driving by to see nothing but broken beams and collapsed shingles.
And then something beautiful began to happen. That old frame was utilized. That old roof was kept. And improvements were being made.
Now, as I drive by, the foundation has expanded. The lot has been leveled, cleared of rubble and debris. When it is finished, it is going to be a magnificent home; better than the original.
And I couldn’t stop thinking, that’s just like Life. And how God created the earth. The earth, human life, and even one person’s home all start the same: Find a good location. Lay a foundation. Build. Correct. Share. Repair. Enjoy. Invite. Celebrate. Mourn. Stay.
Enjoy your horizons… but don’t forget your roots.
Oct 21, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
That’s not a typo… this blog title really is Self slash Public slash ation. Well, the first two parts stand alone. The last? I guess you call that an emphasis, the uniter.
Part One: Self.
I’m stubborn. I love my stability and my structured schedule. I’m set in my ways. I’m okay with change, even if it hasn’t been anticipated… as long as it’s not drastic. I’m old-fashioned, and set in my ways. Yeah, I’m a real catch for a go-with-the-flow kinda crowd. (*please tell me you get the sarcasm, here).
I look for stories everywhere. I write them out; sometimes for me, sometimes for …
Part Two: Public.
That’s “You”. That’s my family, my friends, my peeps. The ones who see me in the world and wonder how they influence me. The strangers who are oblivious to my Big Brother eyes and ears. The readers.
You read books. You go to libraries and bookstores and smell the dust and feel the old pages.
And now, you download the text.
So. Here I am. Old school book reader trying to be a writer who’s inspired by old-fashioned stories like Little Women and Sherlock Holmes and Anne of Green Gables.
And I use technology to search, and re-search, and research my re-search. And I use technology to find what I’m looking for, and to guide me to solutions I didn’t even realize I was researching.
Selfishly, I don’t like e-books and downloads. You can’t bookmark a digital copy. You can’t smell the aroma of gilt-edged pages or feel the texture of dust-embedded sheets. You can’t autograph a computer screen . . . and keep it that way.
But the public likes to take five books out in public when it doesn’t weigh as much as one. You like to computer generate your highlights and type notes in the margins if you can.
I’m in a tug of war between my old-fashioned comfort and the new techno-world. I love the beauty of my old typewriter (thanks, Pam!), but I would be lost without my MacBook.
On one side, I’ve heard the stories that publishers and agents don’t really respect those who publish themselves. It’s like all the flack about the first season of American Idol: the winner didn’t put in her dues, her time and effort. She didn’t come up through the trenches the way other great singers did. Having argued all that, they still know her name, ten years later. Kelly Clarkson’s still singing. With a record deal. That’s worth noting.
On the other side, technology is the way of the world. The internet is everywhere and everyone wants it at their fingertips… their digital, less-than-two pounds, wireless world.
Part Three: (N)ation, where (N) is the (N)-factor. The unknown. The, what-the-heck-am-I-gonna-do puzzle piece.
I want to be published. I want the public to read what I write. I want book signings and recognition and “oh my gosh, you spoke to my heart” fans. I want to be heard. I want to know that I’m making a difference. I want my readers to know that I write for them.
I need to write, like I need to breathe. I need to put into words the world around me, so that my grandchildren will understand, and want to know their history and heritage. I need to write it out, to be peaceful within.
I need a publisher and an agent. I’m ready. I have good-to-go material… with nowhere to go. And I’m all over the place. I have a screenplay, a novel, tons of prose and poems, two songs, a Christian devotional study, and a cookbook. And those are just the finished products; to say nothing of all the other writings still “in progress”.
My pages are all dressed up, and haven’t been invited to the party.
So now I’m thinking of letting them have their own party… I’m thinking of dipping my toe into the self-pub pool. Or even print-on-demand.
It goes against so much in me… but it may be the only way, right now, I can fully let it out.
So. Here’s my question: to self-publish, or not to self-publish? And if self-publishing: print on demand? eBook options? Or bulk for sales? Do I try to get an agent or publisher? If yes, then how? Do I self-publish? If yes, how much? Everything? Or just start with the cookbook? How do I market? Is it more-than-slightly self-serving to post my own product on my own blog? How is that different from regular advertising? What about my street credit? If I self-publish/print-on-demand, how will that stand up later when I need a big printing house/publisher to pay attention? Will they dismiss me, or say I’ve got the drive?
What options are the best options; not just for now, but for the long-term?
You’ve been so great at reading. Now it’s my turn. These are legitimate questions, and I’m looking for your answers. What do you think about publishing and self-publishing? What about agents and big companies and little presses? Are you a writer with advice, or a reader with inspirations? Whatcha got? I’m in need of a lot of honest feedback before I make up my mind. So spill. Share. And suggest.
I’m listening… and taking notes.
Oct 20, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
This is an old family recipe. I don’t remember not eating this as a kid. The great part is, my daughter loves it now, too. The first time I made it, she went back for seconds… and thirds. Now that’s saying something!
INGREDIENTS:
1 to 1.25 lb. ground beef
1 medium onion, chopped
8 to 12 oz. macaroni or pasta shells, cooked
1 can tomato soup
1 can vegetable soup
On stove top, cook the pasta. Separately, brown the ground beef and onion. Add both soups to meat, mix in cooked pasta. Can thin with a little water, tomato juice, or tomato sauce if desired.
See? Quick, easy, nutritious, hearty. All great things for an autumn dinner.
Oct 17, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
I like watching DVDs with commentaries. I’ll watch a complete season of TV on DVD and then start from the beginning to watch the episodes with commentaries. I love to hear the “behind the scenes”: what the writers wanted, how the directors portrayed the vision, what the actors brought to the table.
I just love the details of who, where, when, what, why, and how.
Sometimes as a creative writer, I feel the need to explain myself: why I wrote what I wrote; point out some cute little insights that the reader might not pick up on. Most of the time, my writing stands on its own but sometimes, I’d like to share my own “behind the scenes”.
I’ve fought against sharing too much, keeping it instead inside me, or in the pages of my journals… just waiting for someone to ask, “What were you thinking/feeling when you wrote that?” But with a limited readership, not too many ask. When I offer, the response is overwhelmingly welcoming and supportive. “Oh! That makes sense!” or “I’ll re-read it now.” So it can’t be all bad to share some background.
As it happened last week, I was glancing at a Louis L’Amour book I don’t yet have (but is definitely on my wishlist!), and saw that he often added Author’s Notes behind his short stories. It was as if the clouds cleared and I could see the mountain I had already half-climbed. If Louis L’Amour, a great, detailed, descriptive writer who brought the wild west into our hearts and homes so easily, felt the need to add notes, then surely, it was okay for me to do the same!
Starting next week, I’ll be posting “Author’s Notes”. Maybe once a month, maybe once a week. But rest assured that shortly after a creative writing post, I’ll delve a little more deeply into the details, the backstory. The commentaries. I’ll also post a tab on the home page, with links to the Notes, and those notes will have the link to the original creative work. It sounds like a rabbit trail, doesn’t it? Don’t worry. I’ll leave a trail of bread crumbs.
It’s as though Louis came into my writing room, turned the light on, and gave me permission to keep doing what I’m doing. Only this time, with a bigger goal: an audience. And that’s incredibly exciting. And intimidating.
I’ve also hesitated in putting too much effort into submitting my “ready works” ~ those short stories and whatnot that are finished and ready to go. What am I so afraid of?! There are about a buzillion excuses, but no good reason.
What is it I’m always telling Dot? “Fear is never a reason to not do something.” Well, yeah, but… we’re talking about entry fees. And red-lines. And rejections. And, not being good enough… I mean, those are legitimate concerns!
Flashback to several years ago when I discovered the beauty of Max Lucado. Actually, my mom discovered him for me. For Easter, 2006, she gave me this great little book: Mocha with Max. It’s a fantastic little collection of short inspirational reads.
Since my writing epiphany two weeks ago (which really was more of a conscious realization of what everyone around me already knew!), I’ve been taken with Max’s writings as well. Page 103, an excerpt from his book, “A Love Worth Giving”. He gives an example of hope, endurance, patience. From a writer’s point of view.
I often think of that story when I feel … afraid. Despondent. Rejected. And I think, if Max can persevere, so can I. If Louis can share a backstory, so can I.
And if they can be published, and accepted…
So can I.
But it won’t be handed to me on a silver platter. I have to work for it. I have to hone my vocabulary; be willing to expose myself to editors and critics. And I have to put myself out there.
But they did it. So guess what.
So. Will. I.
