Glow-in-the-dark

Remember the Glo Worm craze of the early 1980s? My brothers and I collected and played with them. I remember it being the highlight of my Easter when I discovered Glo Butterfly in my basket one year. Each night I'd climb into bed with my little Glo Butterfly on the nightstand right beside me, lighting my way to dreamland. The only problem with the Glo Worms was that after a day or two, they would lose their "glo". But my mother showed us how to hold them up to a lightbulb for a few minutes before bed each night to make them glow like new.

Funny, I had all but forgotten about them until last Sunday. Our pastor was preaching about light and darkness, and how darkness cannot quench light, but rather light dispells darkness. All of a sudden this image popped into my mind of three children huddled around the lamp, patiently holding our Glo Bugs up to the bulb for their nightly dose of "glo". Without those few minutes of being held in the light the Glo Bugs would have faded, and eventually we would not have been able to distinguish them from the other shadows in the darkness.

Way to drive it home, God. ;) I got the message loud and clear!

We are meant to be lights in a world cloaked in shadows and darkness. But the only way to retain our light is to spend time "walking in the light", fellowshipping with our Creator and Savior. If we don't come to Him for our daily dose of "light therepy" we will soon fade until no one can see the difference. And if they cannot see the light, they will not be drawn to it, and will remain, as we are, lost in the shadows.

I love how God takes such a simple message combined with a simple childhood memory to get His point across. Which brings to mind another simple memory from my childhood.... A Sunday School class full of little children holding miniture candlesticks and singing:

"This little light of mine... I'm gonna let it shine!"

The Notebooks

Finding myself with some unexpected free time the other night, I decided to go through a box of my old writing that had been sitting in storage for years. Opening it up was like opening a window to the past, all these notebooks full of childish handwriting... poems, and unfinished stories. To this day, I've never finished an entire book. I always get so frustrated at my lack of perfection and end up doing re-write after re-write until I finally give up. Lately, I haven't even bothered with the re-writes. I just give up or don't bother even starting. When did I become such a cynic?

Anyway, I got a kick out of some of those old stories. I would spend hours flipping through catalogs, looking for just the right characters, and then cut them out and paste them on the cover page. On the first page of one of the notebooks I had written, "Don't miss the other books in this exciting series:" and then carefully penned the title of book one, which consisted of four chapters! I think my sudden outburst of laughter woke my husband. But it felt good to recognize my flaws, how blissfully naive I was, and also the raw talent. It caught me off guard. I didn't expect some of it to be as good as it was.

Of course, much of it was redundant. There were at least four or five stories about twins that were separated at birth and later found each other. A bunch more about large families of children who had been orphaned of one parent and had to set out to find the long-lost other. But there were a few surprises in there as well.

In the end, I found I couldn't part with any of it. Notebook after notebook, each with it's own story, went back into the box to be stored away for the next time I am ready for a trip down memory lane.

Always and Forever

This is the man I married. The man I bore children to. The man I love. Valentine's Day seems to be the appropriate time to declare how deeply and passionately I love my husband.

I was reading through some old poetry that I wrote in my early twenties, just before I met the man that I would marry. The longing was palpable, the questions burning. Would I find someone to love me? Would he accept my flaws and cherish my ecentricities and admire my strengths? Would he be good and kind and wise? Would he be tender, compassionate, and pure? I was so afraid I'd have to settle. So afraid that I was unworthy for the kind of man I desired. So afraid I might never find a soulmate. So afriad to hope.

If I could go back in time, I would put my arm around that frightened young woman and tell her that everything was going to be allright. That love would find her sooner than she could know. And that the man who would love her would surpass anything she could have ever dreamed. I'd tell her that life would take her on twists and turns, that it would bring her equal measures of joy and pain. But all the while there would be someone to hold her hand, to lift her up, to carry her when she could not go on, and to cherish her with his every breath. I'd tell her that she would be loved infinately. She would be loved. I'd tell her that this man would be her lover, her friend, her champion, her companion, her confidant. That he would care for her with tenderness, that he would strive to truly understand her thoughts, her feelings, her dreams. That he would bring her flowers, catch her tears, and hold her hand. That his touch would thrill her to every inch of her being, that his words would captivate her heart. I'd tell her... I'd tell her... so much.

As it is, I cannot go back. I can only go forward. Forward in the strength and confidence that I am daily loved. This man, this man I married... how that happened I'll never know. I only know that for the rest of my life I will endeavour to deserve him. That each day I am made better just by being near him. He brings out the best in me, he makes me want to be... more than I am. Everything I hope to be. To love, and be loved.

Superbowl Sunday!

It's Superbowl Sunday, everybody! Sportsfans all over the world, unite! Well, at least in the United States.

I never really was much of a football fan, to be honest (gimme baseball over football any day), but after marrying a German and living abroad for several years, I'd say my knowledge of the sport is almost non-existent. I do know that the Bears are playing the Colts, but I couldn't tell you the name of a single player on either team. But will I be watching? You bet! Any excuse to throw a party.

You see, I love to cook. And hors d'oeuvres are one of my favorite things to prepare. I'll be serving everything from the traditional chicken wings in a homemade ginger marinade and cheesy sausage dip with tortilla chips, to bruschetta on garlic toast, brie, proscuttio, and a White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle Cheesecake for dessert. Thankfully, I've got a very willing husband to help me dispose of all this food!

Colts or Bears, who wins doesn't matter, as long as I remain the Queen of the Kitchen. ;)

Inspiration Point

Where do you get your inspiration?

When I was a little girl, we lived for one year in a big white house on an acre of land. Bordering the edge of our property was a grove of miniature pine trees. My imaginative, young mind was drawn to it like a magnet. It was the perfect place to hide out from pesky younger brothers, and the reality of my parents' dissolving marriage. The dense crop of trees were like friends to me. Just tall enough to shelter me from the outside world, and thick enough to make me feel secluded but never afraid of getting lost. Weaving my way through the labyrinth, they tickled me with their soft, prickly branches and tousled my curls. They welcomed me, spreading the floor with a blanket of needles so thick that not an ounce of moisture seeped in.

My favorite tree stood near the middle of the grove. Completely bare on one side, it's destiny was never to be a Christmas tree. But it proved the ideal place to rest my back, knees bent and notebook in lap, and spin my fanciful tales. I called this place my Enchanted Forest, for in it, I was transformed.

That summer was really the marking point for the beginning of my career as a writer. It was then that I fell in love with the written word, and began to venture out into the world of creativity. I filled many a spiral-bound notebook with my musings. I wonder what ever happened to them? The notebooks are long gone, but the stories (most of them, anyway) are still fresh in my mind.

My husband and I took a drive in the country last week and passed that old house. It was the first time I'd been back in all these years, and I was shocked to see those stately pines, tall and regal against the evening sky. Do they even remember me? I pressed my hand to the glass in silent greeting as we drove past. They made no acknowledgement, as far as I can tell.

I wonder, has the magic vanished? Or do they clutch it still, deep inside? I close my eyes and envision them as they were in their youth, when light filled their depths and they freely shared their secrets.

Ah, my Enchanted Forest, the birthplace of my imagination! I shall always hold you dear in my heart.

Getting Into the Grind

At last the holidays are over and I am settling into the daily grind. The gym membership turned out not to be my only gift: my husband got me an adorable little ipod shuffle to go with it. Already I find myself missing it when it is not on my person! Music is a real motivator for me. I must apologize if my "Wish List" post sounded as though I was in any way ungrateful for my husband's gift. He is a wonderful man who knows my heart. My frustration was not directed at him, but rather, at myself for continuously making excuses as to why I cannot seem to do the one thing I long most to do.

At any rate, I am now reaping the benefits of his generosity, attending the gym for two hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday while my oldest is at school. The younger two go with me to the free babysitting facility they have at the gym. The mornings are usually quiet, so they get plenty of attention and the arrangement is working out marvellously for all involved. Working out to the music pumping through my ears keeps me in my own little world, no one to bother me, and few interruptions makes for a veritable breeding ground for creative ideas in my mind.

So far I have tried out a Spinning class (hated) and a Pilates class (loved). I think I will join the Pilates class, which meets for one hour every Monday morning. It really kicked my butt last week, but in that strangly addictive way that has you coming back for more. Plus, it was nice to be part of a group again. Being a SAHM for the last 5 years and moving all around the globe didn't give me many opportunities to make new friends.

Wow! Between the potential to meet some very interesting people and quietly observe others, not to mention getting my butt kicked back into shape, joining a gym may be the best mental and physical health boost I've had in years!

To your health, everybody!

A New Year, A Fresh Start

What is it about a new year that makes us believe we can start anew? A fresh rebirth, a chance to cast off the old, selfish, indulgent persona, and assume a new, more likeable one?

In any case, I too resolve to make a change this year. I have weighed myself in the balances and found myself lacking. And so I resolve just one thing really -- to become a better person in every aspect of my life. Broken down, it looks a little something like this:

10 ways in which I resolve to better myself and in effect, the world around me

1. To find my center. To have an on-my-knees meeting with my Creator and Saviour and together, re-establish my purpose in this life. And to keep my center within arms reach, by consistant, daily prayer and reading of the Scriptures.

2. To open my heart more. To not be afraid to reach out to others around me and to tell them how I feel about them.

3. To shower my loved ones with affection. To keep their needs in my focus, even if it means allowing my own to fall by the wayside.

4. To laugh more, yell less. To be the mother to my children that I never had myself and always longed for.

5. To never again be the victim. To choose not to let the poor choices of others affect me.

6. To respect others. Help out the elderly. Assist the children. Pause and hold that door open for the person behind me. Say excuse me. Don't be rude.

7. To respect myself. To realize that this body is the only one I was given. Accept it. Love it. Care for it. Eat healthier, excercise frequently, get in shape and stay there!

8. To realize that time is money -- or at least, more valuable. Show that you care and that you are someone who can be counted on. Be on time.

9. To listen more, talk less. Allow others the chance to pour out their hearts and be validated. Don't interrupt.

10. To realize my dreams. Stop living the fantasy and start making them a reality. Educate yourself, learn from others, and never stop until you reach your goals.



And there you have it.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Christmas Wish

What is your Christmas Wish? My only wish this year was for the Write It Now program I've been babbling about for months now. My wish is for more than a program, it's for the realization of my dream, the dream I've been carrying around so long now, I can't remember ever having another. I want to write! I want to go to sleep every night and dream in fiction. I want to wake up every morning and pound the words out on paper (well, computer screen), I want to live the life of a writer. I want to stop making excuses. Start making time.

I already know what I'm getting though, and the writing program isn't it. My husband "surprised" me the other day by taking me to the gym I've been wanting to join, the one right across the street from my son's preschool, and therefore the one I can actually get to three times a week, and signed me up. It was a wonderful gift, God bless him! A gift that I wanted, that I needed, a gift that will (eventually) restore my self-confidence, make me a more content person, and thus bring me added happiness. It is not, however, my dream.

His reasoning behind holding off on the writing program was that he knows that I will not have time to use it. This is probably true. And yet I am growing more and more frustrated by the fact that I seem to find time enough for everything in my life except for the very thing I long for. The very thing that I long to devote my time to. Will life ever slow down? How long must I wait?

Slogans thrust themselves at me, "There's no time like the present!", "Life is short!", "Sieze the day!" And I realize that life is passing and I am still not a step closer to my dream than I was when it first settled upon me.

Sacrifices must be made. But at what cost? My family? My household? Ah, time, you are as elusive as an evening mist. Running to catch a hold of something that remains just beyond my grasp...

Words of Wisdom

It's amazing how the days just pass in one big blur. I'm still super-busy with the jewelry making; I have my first Craft Show in less than a week and a half and I'm working like crazy to get ready for it. Still no time for writing, but the longing is still there. Whenever I get a free moment, I'm thinking about it, reading up on it, educating myself on the craft. This morning I found a few choice words of wisdom that I thought I'd share with you all. Taken from this months issue of Writer's Digest, an article entitled "The Novelist's Survival Kit" by Jordan E. Rosenfeld, "Novel writing is a tender process. A great vortex of insecurity can rise up around you and threaten to pull you into doubt. You may start to feel slightly crazed as voices fill your head with negative slogans and antagonistic values about how you aren't qualified to write so much as a grocery list. It's wise to adopt a mantra of sorts, one like this: 'I don't need to save the world, just finish this book,'... Or even just, 'Shut up -- who asked you?' It's important to remember that some of the greatest writers also wrote bad first drafts and revised repeatedly. Writer Natalie Goldberg says this about the inner critic, or 'editor' as she calls it: 'After a while, like the jabbering of an old drunk fool, it just becomes prattle in the background. Don't reinforce it's power by listening to it's empty words.' "

"There are likely perfectionists reading this who haven't yet written a novel simply because they can't bear to do it imperfectly. Let me remind you that a first draft is imperfection embodied, and in this case, that's a beautiful thing. Show me a famous painter who went to the canvas and came away with something like the Mona Lisa. Show me a sculptor who, after just a few tries, sculpted like Aguste Rodin. Art doesn't happen that way. If you want to get a novel written, you must resist the temptation to be perfect."

"Once you take the leap from blocking to writing, you'll again be visited by the goblin of perfection. This foul creature will whisper in your ear and make you want to quit. This is where you remind yourself that if you were building a house, you'd first work with beams of wood and nails to make walls and floors. Your novel is the same, only it's walls and floors are made with words. To get them down, you must simply... get them down."

The part about perfectionism really hit home with me. I know that's my problem. It's something I really need to work through. I always expect perfection the first time, and it's just not realistic. I thought the analogy of building a house was a great one! That's an image I'm going to keep with me in the days to come.

Professions for Characters

Well, I didn't end up getting that writing program for my birthday after all. My husband talked me into waiting until Christmas. The truth is, since I started making jewelry, I just haven't had a second of free time for writing. I'm spending all my extra time getting ready for a craft show I'll be selling at mid-November. In a way, I know he's right. It would be tortourous for me to see that disc on my shelf and not have hours of free time to explore it and try it out.

But surprisingly, this venture has helped my writing! Research is found in the everyday life, as they say (and if someone hasn't said it, let me be the first!). Since I started making jewelry, I have found myself throw into such a delightful, interesting world full of characters just waiting to be written about! The ladies I've come across are such open, friendly, helpful women of all ages and walks of life. And yet, this one hobby has given us something in common that bridges all gaps and breaks down all walls. Eager to talk, eager to share, eager to instruct, and eager to learn, I can definitely see a novel centered around this business working it's way through my brain! I feel so lucky, because I always have such a difficult time finding professions for my characters that I know enough about to consider myself an authority on.

And don't get me started on Craft Shows! Now there's a whole story full of interesting characters in itself!

Intergalactic Bead Show

What a busy girl I've been lately! Last Saturday I had the great joy of attending my very first Bead Show! It was the 2006 Intergalactic Bead Show in Akron, OH. My husband and I had quite a drive to get there, but it was worth it, let me tell you! Such a beautiful array of semi-precious, glass, porcelain, wood and many other types of beads! I can't remember when I've had more fun. My long-suffering husband lasted just about 20 minutes before heading back to the car to take a nap, but he assured me that I could take as long as I liked, and I took him at his word!

I had given myself $60 to spend, and I left with just pocket change. I could have spent tons more (a lady beside me spent $400 at one booth!) but as a beginner, I knew that setting a limit for myself (and leaving my purse in the car) would keep me from going overboard. Among those that returned home with me were these lovely Agate semi-precious stones which I formed into a gorgeous bracelet, if I do say so myself. My most favorite item that I picked up was a beautiful baby mermaid pendant that I had seen in a magazine and searched all over the internet for to no avail. I saw it at a corner both, and though it deeply cut into my spending money at $15, I just had to have it! I bought some deep red coral and blue turquoise that I'm going to use with it to make myself a birthday necklace. :)

The jewelry business is going well, but I haven't had a second for writing lately. I suspect that after Christmas time I'll see a lull in orders and have time for my other great passion, the written word!

Until next time!

Back To School

As little birds stretch their wings to fly, so must we leave the nest in order to begin our journey.

Yesterday was my eldest son's first day of Preschool. Such a tumult of emotions for me. I was so eager for him to enter the world of knowledge, where each day is fresh with new understanding, and new possibilities. Those early days of school brings back such lovely images for me... The waxy smell of a new box of Crayolas, the cool, squishy pleasantness of fingerpaints, the spurt and bubble of a bottle of Elmer's glue, always resulting in sticky satisfaction... Lessons in color and texture, smell and taste, friendships and fun.

On the way to the school, I played it up, extolling the joys of learning, of discovery, but always in the back of my mind, anxious for that moment when we would say our goodbyes. Would he cling to me and cry? Would he be frightened? Standing at the open door to the world can be a bit daunting. Would he be overwhelmed? By the time we entered the building I was nearly sick to my stomach, and I had to swallow back tears as I helped him find his cubby and place his belongings inside.

"See ya later, Mama." He said to me, and turned away, delighted eyes already scanning the room.

Shocked, I managed to choke out, "Can I get a hug and a kiss?" He complied, but his mind was already on other things. He broke our embrace quickly, and never looked back as I walked out the door.

At home I held my two toddlers a little tighter. In a year, one of them will follow in his brother's footsteps, two years later, the last of my small brood will step over the edge of our then-empty nest and test his wings.

And I just know that in that moment, I'll stand back with pride and watch them soar.

On The Edge Of A Precipice

"Draw your chair up close to the edge of the precipice and I'll tell you a story. "
~F. Scott Fitzgerald


That is one of my favorite quotes on writing. Everyone loves a cliffhanger! Stories that twist and turn and leave you guessing right up to the last page make the bestsellers list for a reason. Not only do we like to be entertained, we like to be challenged.

Novelist Dee Henderson http://deehenderson.com/ has really got the formula down. Her Suspense/Thriller novels the O'Malley Series and the Uncommon Heroes series have struck a cord with her readers and made her a fan favorite from almost day one. I'm currently reading her novel "The Witness" and I've got to tell you, it's right on par with the rest of them! Ms. Henderson does a magnificent job of captivating the reader's attention and keeping them spell-bound to the finish. The industry has not seen the last of her, by far.

It can be difficult to come up with scenarios for a Suspense novel that haven't been played out time and time before. I once heard the very good suggestion of watching a program like Law & Order or C.S.I. and turning the show off halfway through. Grab a notebook and a pen and write down how you think the story will go, or how it would go if you were writing it. Then if you like, turn the show back on for the last five minutes and see how you did! The important thing is to get your mind exploring different trails and jumping down rabbit holes and letting your imagination take you wherever it will.

Even if you don't come up with something usable the first time, it's sure to be a wild ride!

Shaping Christian Character

What an excellent guest speaker we had at our church yesterday morning! His name is Roger Hillegas, and if you ever get the chance to hear him preach, I highly recommend it! He sprinkles his messages with just the right amount of knee-slapping humor and reality checks. He has a book coming out September 1st called Shaping Christian Character that will be available on Amazon.com and in bookstores across the nation. It's a slim book, only 125 pages, something the average person could surely get through in an afternoon. I bought two copies myself, one for my husband and I, and one as a gift for my father, and I'm looking forward to reading it tonight. Here's an excerpt from the preface:

"I am a preacher. When speaking to congregations I usually begin with the following disclaimer:
Over the last several years I have had multiple eye surgeries for glaucoma. They didn't go well. I have lost most of my vision. Most of you (actually, all of you) are just nebulous shadows. If you want to leave, feel free. I won't know the difference. Just don't laugh, I can't see my watch either...
It takes a while for that last one to sink in, but they usually get it."

He is a humble, open-hearted man of God, and I encourage anyone who would like to know more about God's love toward us, and how to become more Christ-like to pick up a copy once it becomes available. If it's anything at all like his message yesterday morning, I know it will bless you.

Topsy Turvy

Ever have days when you don't know whether you're coming or going? Run here, run there, drop someone off, pick someone up, make dinner, make the beds, though not in that order, of course!

Crazy days, that's all I can say. With this jewelry business just getting off the ground, and my oldest starting school in a week and a half, my husband in the middle of attempting to switch careers... There hasn't been much time for writing lately. Hopefully things will slow down soon and get back to their steady pace.

I'm anxious to get that new program I've been talking about and to put it to good use! I've got a couple different story ideas vying for front position in my mind, I haven't yet figured out which one I'll be going with. Research is going to have to be involved, something I always put off but then thoroughly enjoy once I get into it. Why is that, I wonder?

It's true, I am a procrastinator by nature, though oft' times it's purposeful, knowing that I do my best work at crunch time. For some reason that's when the creative juices get pressed out the most, though it's a little like playing chicken in the middle of the road. If my imagination should fail me, I'll end up getting squashed!

Ah well, back to the grind! Life is awaiting.

Whimsies Jewelry Design

Whew! It's been an exciting, action-packed couple of days! I've been remiss in posting here and I apologize. I'm now back and ready to catch up. Several months ago, I got the idea that it might be fun to design jewelry. I've always prided myself on my artistic nature, and yet I had no natural ability for the typical "arts" such as drawing, painting, and sculpting. I have, however, always loved jewelry, so after pondering on it a bit, I finally went out and bought a couple packs of beads and some earwires and decided to give it a go. And I discovered that I loved it! I showed my creations to a few friends, and after receiving their rave reviews, went out and bought a few more packs of beads, and made a few more. Next thing I know, I'm taking orders, ordering gift boxes and setting up shop on eBay! I'd eventually like to get my own webadress and online store, but for now, this'll do.

To check out my creations, you can either do a search by seller for WhimsiesJewelryDesign or go to http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZwhimsiesjewelrydesignQQhtZ-1. I hope to see you there!

The Girl And The Box

Back in High School, one of the first writing exercises I was ever given was to write a short story entitled "The Girl And The Box" (the gender was optional). I still remember the creative jolt of electricity that shot through me, the quick flipping of my mind through a Rolodex of ideas, and the euphoria that flashed as the right one was chosen. I went home that night and wrote like a madman, pouring my heart and soul onto the paper.

I remember sitting in class the next day pretending to read my textbook, listening to the teacher rifle through the papers, disregarding the typical stories of birthday gifts and engagement rings. I remember my heart stopping at the same time his hands did, my breath halting as his eyes scanned the page, once, twice, three times before tugging it out of the stack. I remember the flush of embarrassed pride, knowing, just knowing that the paper was mine.

He glanced up and for the merest of seconds, our eyes met. I quickly returned my gaze to the book before me, but I knew that in that moment a mutual respect, and a love for the craft had passed between us.

By the end of class the papers were being passed back, grades affixed to the upper right-hand corner with red ink. I looked at my story, the one about the slave girl smuggled to freedom in a hope chest, and read the words: Well done! You Got the Point!

And I knew I had.

Keeping Your Balance

Life is like a balance beam. Lean too far to one side and you're likely to topple over.

I think when I was younger, I must have been a gymnast. Balancing my life back then wasn't all that difficult: school, home, friends, school, home, friends... Are you kidding me? I was doing backflips! When I graduated, I suddenly had to step it up a notch. Instead of that smooth, wide plank beneath my feet, I found myself upon a cold, biting, metal wire, juggling colorful balls of responsibility. One, two, three, one, two, three, and just when I got the hang of it, more balls would fly my way. Not only did I have to catch them without falling off the tight-rope, I also had to incorporate them into the act without dropping any of the other balls!

There are days when I find myself pitching and leaning, struggling to stay aloft. So much to do, so little time. Is there ever enough? Will there ever be enough? The balls come down and fit so neatly into the palm of my hand: husband, children, housework, prayer, friendship, writing, sleep... But each one is only there for a moment before I have to toss it up again to catch the next.

There are days when I find myself hesitating, unwilling to move forward. Wouldn't it be easier to just stand still? To stand still for one blessed, restful moment and simply breathe? But as my shoulders relax and the weight of my body settles in, the sting of the steel beneath my feet urges me on. On to new experiences, on to new growth, on to whatever lies ahead.

There are days when I wonder what would happen if I fall. Would the balls all drop and roll away, a rainbow of dreams now beyond my reach? It's true that at times they can be difficult to manage, but they are mine. And when it comes right down to it, they're all I have. Could I gather them back into my arms, cherishing each one, so very grateful for each one, and pick up where I left off?

I think that as long as I have a soft place to land and loving arms to lift me up, I'll be okay.

On My Wish List

So, I'm thinking of trying this novel-writing software called WriteItNow. It was first called to my attention in the August issue of Writer's Digest Magazine. It was one of the programs reviewed by Jack Clemens in his article "The 2006 WD Guide to Writing Software." According to Mr. Clemens, "WriteItNow, a relatively inexpensive novel-writing program, turns out to be a tremendous bargain. It's easy to navigate and filled with practical functions - everything from word processing, manuscript formatting and note organizing to a name generator and submissions tracker. It also offers, at no extra cost, online updates that provide research material on a wide array of topics."

Sounds good, right? So I went online and did some checking around. Either this program is relatively new, or just a well-kept secret, because a google search doesn't turn up all that much. What it does turn up is positive though. A couple good reviews from writers who tried it (all recommended it, saying it was a great bargain) and the official website for the manufacturer, Ravenshead Services at http://www.ravensheadservices.com/index.php. They offer a free trial to download, but being the paranoid person that I am, I e-mailed them and asked if they could mail me a copy instead. A few days later I got my free trial in the mail, and I have to say, this is a truly great program. It has lots of interesting features, all easy to use, and is very affordable compared with most Writing software at $57, which includes shipping and handling. For someone who has been a faithful (for some strange reason) Microsoft Works user, this would be a huge improvement. Perfectly tailored to the writer, this program offers to organize everything related to your story in one place. No more post-its stuck to every hard surface around you, and spreadsheets scattered hither and yon! There are tabs for characters, events, notes, places, ideas, locations, and submissions, and a tree view that expands for each class of information.

Some of the things you can do with this software are:
* Write and store complete novels
* Keep background details of characters, events, locations and ideas
* Display charts of events and relationships
* Generate characters, names and ideas
* Registered users can generate characters and background notes using add-ons
* Record all manuscript submissions

It also includes:
* Sample story with tutorial.
* 100,000 word spelling checker + 150,000 word thesaurus
* 100 step undo and redo
* RTF output. Create a neatly formatted manuscript with two key-presses
* FAQ. Frequently asked questions.

The feature that I'm most excited about is the Readability option. This will tell you what age level your writing is appropriate for and how difficult your story is by analyzing the words used, the length of sentences, sentence structure, and grammar using the Flech-Kincaid grade assessment scale. Perfect for those wanting to write Children's books or Young Adult Fiction targeted at a certain age group.

But I'm not doing it justice. If this sounds like something you might be intersted in, please go to their website and check it out for yourself.

I've got a birthday coming up in less than a month. I already know what I'm asking for! Hopefully this will be just the kick in the pants I need to get me going.

What's in a name?

It's like this: I'm lying awake at night, listening to my husband's gentle breathing beside me, and it happens. A new story idea pops into my head. Thoughts weave together, possible scenarios present themselves, and I fall asleep anxious for morning to come. It does, and once my kids are dressed and fed, and playing happily in their playroom (if you don't have one, I highly recommend it!), I sit down at the computer ready to write. But I can't get more than a sentence or two before hitting that familiar quandary: what do I call this character? Without a name, the person isn't real to me. It's like being at a party full of strangers. You can't really get to know someone unless they come up and introduce themselves. Oh sure, the host might stop by and whisper little tidbits about this person and that in your ear, but they're still people you don't know. You might know a little bit more about them now, but you still don't know who they are, what they wish for, what they fear, what they dream.

For a character to be believable, you have to really get to know them. Understand them. Be them. Even the Evil Mad Scientist will not seem like a real person to your reader unless you know a little bit about what makes him tick. Why does he love science? What caused him to go mad? And when did that madness take on a more sinister bent?

Our name plays a fundamental role in who we become. Hence the popularity of the "information icebreaker" games that hosts often subject their red-faced guests to. "Hello, my name is Sally and I like Scrapbooking." "Hi, I'm Tom and I'm into Transcendental Meditation." That's not to say that every person just happens to have an interest or a hobby beginning with the corresponding letter of their first name, but I think you see where I'm going with this.

For most people, just the mention of a name brings up certain images. Lauren, for instance, is a sweet, attractive, cheerleader-type, while Howard is a businessman whose idea of relaxing is to remove his suit jacket (with the exception of Howard Stern, of course). Jim-Bob is most likely a mechanic with permanent grease-stains under his nails, and Francine, a bubble-gum chomping, leopard-print wearing hairdresser with a southern drawl. Most of us are fortunate enough to be labeled for life with a decent, middle-of-the-road moniker, and for those who aren't, there's always legal name change.

So as a writer, choosing a name for our characters is a big deal. The right one, and the character grows and thrives in all the ways we hoped and dreamed for them. The wrong one, and they might change and develop into someone we barely recognize, let alone should be considered an authority on. And where would our story be then?

Kinda makes you wish they came with name tags, doesn't it?