Tag: writing

I do declare: Rosalee and Carol are going to end up in my novel one day

Today I’m starting a new feature for the I Do Declare posts, which I’ll post on the fourth Monday. It’s called “This is going to end up in my novel one day,” and by “This,” I mean a person, event, situation, or some crazy thing I witnessed in the course of my day.

When I sat down to think through ideas for this feature, it didn’t take long for Rosalee to come to mind. Here’s how I met her:

Photo: Dreamstime

One day a while back – and I do mean a while back, because we had phones that hung on the wall with answering machines beside them. What do you mean, am I that old? Where are your manners?

Anyway. As I was saying, one day a while back, I came home from running an errand and saw that I had a few messages.

The first was the voice of an elderly woman: “Hi Carol. This is Rosalee. I can’t come in to work today. I have to go to the doctor because my leg is hurting and I can’t clean your house very good if I have to hobble around. I will see you tomorrow.”

Clearly this woman had dialed the wrong number. I hoped the second message was her calling back to say, “oops, sorry, dialed wrong number” … but it was someone trying to sell me something.

At that time, the answering machine recorded only the message, not the number. And I couldn’t do the *69 call-back because she wasn’t the last call to come in. Yes, it was a really long time ago. Go stand in the corner until you can show some respect for your elders.

Back to the story: With no other information, there was nothing I could do. I just hoped Rosalee’s employer would believe that she actually had called in.

A few weeks later, I had another message from Rosalee. “Hi Carol. This is Rosalee. I can’t come in to work today because my stomach is upset. I don’t know if it’s the flu or something I ate, but I don’t want to bring it to your house. I will see you tomorrow.”

As before, it wasn’t the last call and I had no other details.

Over the next few weeks, Rosalee left several messages, mentioning various ailments. A sore hip that was giving her problems. A cramp in her back where she must have twisted it sleeping wrong. A bout of “reumatiz.”

I had been concerned about whether she’d be able to keep her job after all the no-shows (because Carol wasn’t receiving her messages), but now I was starting to worry about her health.

One day, the phone rang and guess who it was? Yes! Rosalee was on the line. I was excited.

“Rosalee! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad to hear from you!”

I told her she’d been calling the wrong number for quite a while, and she gave a merry laugh when I said I’d been worried about her health.

I asked what number she’d been trying. It turns out she was one number off. (How she managed to get one number off all those times was a mystery, but I left that part of it unsolved. The poor woman had health issues to deal with.) I was glad to have Carol’s number.

I asked how she was feeling and listened while she recanted her doctor’s orders and the miserable state of her health insurance.

Before we ended the call, I asked for her number – so I could call now and then to see how she was feeling, I said.

The following week, there was another message. “Hi Carol. This is Rosalee. I can’t work today because I have to go to the doctor for my follow-up. I will see you tomorrow.”

Oh dear. I picked up the phone to call her back but decided to call Carol instead. I got her answering machine.

{{{This is Carol. Please leave a message. BEEEEP.}}}

“Hi Carol. My name is Shelia, and I just wanted to let you know that Rosalee has been calling my number by mistake to let you know she couldn’t make it to work. Thought you’d like to know that she really has called in.” I left my number in case she had any questions.

Carol called later, and we giggled over the situation. I told her I was worried that she’d lose her job over what looked like less than stellar work ethics. She said not to worry: Rosalee was a true gem and her job was safe.

Rosalee continued to misdial my number for several more months. Whenever she called, I listened to the message, complete with symptoms and treatments, then I simply called Carol and relayed the message.

It was the least I could do for a worker who was a true gem.

I Do Declare … Again: Conquering the to-do list

This post is a rerun from a while back, but we could all benefit from a good refresher, right? Let’s dig in … again.

How I get things done would make an interesting study … mainly in how to be a control freak.

I live by to-do lists. A clock sits next to my computer screen so I know what time it is every second. I have a calendar habit that few understand: wall calendars, day planner inserts, daily Sudoku, word of the day, 3-month, huge write-on … you name it, I have it, including some I produce in Word because I haven’t found that particular style yet.

All of this is so I can better manage my time so I can be more productive. Yes, there are benefits to slowing down, smelling the roses (or your flower of choice … actually, mine is the hyacinth), meditating, long walks in the park, whatever. I concede that point.

But for me, what works is dividing my time, listing what I need to do, and pushing myself to that accomplish it. And when I do … bring on the rewards!

2kto10kbook

I’m always on the hunt for better time management tools, and I found one in a book by Rachel Aaron called “2,000 to 10,000: How to write faster, writer better, and write more of what you love.” Check out her blog post (and link to purchase her book) on the subject.

The basic premise is the triangle of writing metrics: Knowledge (know what you’re writing before you write it), Time (track productivity and evaluate), and Enthusiasm (get excited about what you’re writing).

I love the way she breaks down this concept, especially the need to track productivity and evaluate it. I’ve always called myself an early riser, more productive in the mornings. But am I sure about that? I haven’t taken the time to track when and how much I’m writing, so it’s possible that I get more done in the afternoon or evening. I’ll be doing that over the next few weeks.

Getting excited about what I’m writing is something else I need to ponder. She describes on her blog and in her book how she spent days stuck in one scene. (I know the feeling.) She said she realized that it was because the scene wasn’t interesting enough to her. The solution? Make it more interesting … or cut it. Think about it: If you’re not really into the scene, will the reader be?

The Knowledge leg of the triangle I think I already have a handle on. A huge part of my writing life is organizing and outlining, so I’m almost always aware of where the story’s going today.

I definitely think this method will work with novel writing, but I’m also revising it slightly for screenplays. With screenplays, word count isn’t what I’m after – it’s pages completed. So here’s the plan: a typical screenplay has roughly 100 pages. If I write five pages per day, I can finish a rough draft in 20 days. Time spent revising, editing, and polishing is another matter. But getting the rough draft done – or as a wise man once said, “Get the damn thing done!” – will be an accomplishment worthy of reward.

A good critique can carry you for miles

I volunteered to write two devotions for the upcoming Advent booklet for my church.

Here are a few words I received back from the person who’s reviewing them.

I actually didn’t expect a review at all. I thought I’d turn it in, and that would be it. So getting a wonderful critique like this was extra special.

Your conversational tone draws readers right into Paul’s message — not only to understand it, but to feel it. Your reflection on the repetition in Philippians 4 is both fresh and pastoral. The encouragement to take “anything and everything” to God in prayer perfectly captures the heart of this passage — a reminder that joy and peace flow not from our control but from His nearness. The modern illustrations (like the “balcony” image) and the gentle humor make it wonderfully relatable while staying fully faithful to Scripture. It’s exactly the kind of writing that helps people connect deep theology with daily discipleship.

I received this critique on one of those mornings — filled with challenges and irritants and headaches — and it turned into a full-blown pity party (party of one!) that slid into questioning a lot of what I was trying to do.

And then I got this message, and it fed me. Such a great reminder that we are here to hold each other up.

Here’s the devotion. As soon as the book is ready, I’ll post the link.

Say it again and again: Rejoice!

4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. 5 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippian 4:4-7

The directive is so important, we get it twice:

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.”

Sing it again. Say it louder. Once more for the balcony.

Rejoice!

And no wonder it’s repeated. It needs to sink in.

As one of those balcony-sitters who needs to hear it over and over, I confess that I tend to cherry-pick both my worries and my prayers.

You know what I mean: Fretting over lots of little things because they seem too trivial to take to God. Or limiting my prayers to big stuff: asking for overall help and guidance or giving thanks in a general (or generic?) way.

That’s not what he said, though.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

Those “absolute” words (anything, everything) are what editors typically frown upon and psychologists caution to avoid in relational discussions.

But this is the Lord. We can take Him at His word. No worries: none, zero, nada, zip. Pray about it all: Every.Single.Thing in your heart.

The Lord is at hand. He’s ready for a conversation.

Rejoice!

Second verse same as the first: Rejoice!

I Do Declare: Humor is a funny way to stay fit

When a new acquaintance finds out I’m a writer, I will invariably get The Question: “So what do you write?”

Which is a little bit like asking someone: “So what do you eat?”

Because the answer is pretty much the same: “Everything I want to.”

No, I’m serious (about writing and eating).

My portfolio runs the gamut from nonfiction books and historical fiction novels to news articles and features to business and personal profiles to human interest and tourism stories to white papers and technical documentation to grants and proposals to humor in various media.

And it’s the last item – humor – that got me through (and continues to get me through) the toughest of all other assignments and projects.

My long-term projects (novels) have the occasional light moment, but for the most part, they’re drama fiction. Take, for instance, my historical novel, Turning August, which is set in Germany in World War II and deals with the Resistance. Yeah, a pretty deep subject. Lots of drama.

I wrote a scene (after a huge amount of research) about the Babi Yar Massacre (if you want more info on it, click here … take a deep breath and say a prayer before following the link), and afterward I flopped onto the sofa and sobbed for a long time. The tears would not stop; it was that intense. I called a friend, and she talked me back up into the daylight.

After I calmed down, I remember saying, “Wouldn’t it be weird if I end up in therapy because of a novel I’m writing?”

She thought for a moment and said, “That’s why the light is so important. What you’re writing is important and you need to do it, but you also need to find the light. Find something lighthearted to watch or read – or better yet, something to write.”

Excellent advice from my friend. And she was right – it does help to turn to something lighthearted after such a deep focus on intense drama. Laughter (or humor in general) is healing. Besides being a mood-lifter, it can improve the immune system, sleep quality, and memory, plus a host of other benefits. (Dig deeper into the topic with a few authoritative bits of info here and here and here.)

For me, humor is also a productivity booster. When I take a few moments to create humor pieces, I find that my mood is consistently better, my work on long-term projects is of a higher quality, and I’m eager to get to work every day.

Hence the part of my blog called “Good Cheer,” which includes Belle of the Ballyhoo (a comic strip about a freelancer dealing with all the craziness of contract work) and Vim & Verve (conversations between two alligators who critique movies and TV shows with a lot of snark).

I also highlight a range of memes featuring Reggaetor (an alligator who listens to Bob Marley), Grammarcat (a feline who silently judges your grammar), Writer Girl (a fashion doll always trying to meet her deadlines), Haiku To You Too (silly haikus with amazing photos), and Wine Me Up (exactly what it sounds like).

The Book of Proverbs – ever the astute guide – notes that “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones.” (Proverbs 17:22, NRSV)

I like the “good medicine” of writing humor. It’s a pleasant taste. And it keeps my writing muscles fit.

I found one of my best characters by paying attention and taking notes

One of my readers once asked how I come up with the complex characters for my novels and give them their particular mannerisms. The answer is complex: a mixture of research, a study of traits and personalities, close observation of people, watching their habits and quirks.

Many articles and books and creative writing courses have been written about character development, and my initial thought was to refer to those sources.

But as I thought about the question, I realized I had a good short answer: I listened to my dad talk. Thoughout his life, Dad invariably found himself connecting with the most curious and remarkable characters and, being the fabulous storyteller that he was, he loved telling the stories of these people.

In a book I wrote with him – “If You Can’t Pay Attention, Take Notes,” a collection of his sea stories – one of the vignettes highlights Dad’s friendship with an undercover NIS agent, completely unaware of the agent’s identity.

I was so intrigued by this character that I put him in a series of novels I wrote (the “Para Team 1” series) that involve an agent with a special unit of Naval Intelligence.

Here’s Dad’s account of the inspiration for my character, as told in his sea stories (more info about the book here):

When I was stationed in Norfolk, I met a fellow who worked in the Beachmaster unit with me. Mike was a second class boatswain’s mate and had been for a long time. You could tell by the stripes up his arm that he’d been taking the first class test for a while and obviously hadn’t passed it yet. The boatswain’s mate first class test was hard to pass.

That didn’t seem to bother him, though. He was a nice, easy-going guy – loved to tell jokes and play cards and fish. We had a lot in common.

Mike was married and had two kids. We went fishing all the time, and he and his wife came over and played cards with me and Pat. Over the course of a year, we got to know them pretty well. We even went on vacation together.

One day two military police came to the door of our building. Mike was standing between them. The MPs asked to come in to talk to a particular chief who was on duty. I told them it was a secure building and I couldn’t let them in, but if they would wait there, I’d go get him.

I found the chief and took him to the door, and the MPs arrested him. The whole time Mike didn’t look at me. I was worried about what kind of trouble he was in.

I found out from some others in the building that the chief they arrested was suspected of selling answers to the first class test. Now I was really worried about Mike.

As soon as I got off duty, I went to his house to see his wife and let her know I was going to the brig to see Mike. But when I got there, the house was completely empty. All of it was gone – the furniture, their clothes, the food in the refrigerator. Nothing was left. No moving boxes, nothing in sight.

By this time I was thoroughly confused, but I made my way over to the brig and asked if I could see Mike.

He wasn’t there. In fact, they had no idea who I was talking about.

When I got home, I told Pat about it. She was shocked. She had just seen Mike’s wife in the commissary the day before.

When I got to work the next day, I found out that Mike had been working undercover with Naval Intelligence. They had known for a while that someone was selling secrets to the test, but they weren’t sure who it was. Mike – obviously not his real name – had been working on the case all that time.

Several years later I was stationed in Charleston. One day I was walking across the base, when I passed someone who looked familiar. I turned around; he turned around. We stared at each other for a moment.

It was Mike.

But he was no longer a second class boatswain’s mate. Now he was a chief engineman.

He looked surprised, like he didn’t know what to say, but then he extended his hand.

“John, how’s it going?” he asked.

“It’s going good,” I said. I wasn’t sure what to call him, so I hesitated. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m stationed on the Sierra,” he said.

I didn’t ask him why. I figured he probably couldn’t tell me, and whatever he did tell me wouldn’t be true.

So we talked about fishing. After about ten minutes, he went on his way and I went on mine.

About a week later, I heard about a drug bust on the U.S.S. Sierra. I wasn’t surprised at all.

I never did see Mike again. At least I don’t think I did. Might depend on whether he got good at disguises.