Creating

Does the God of all the universe and all within the expanse of eternity care about my measly writing goals? Does it matter one bit if I craft a perfect paragraph, finally locate the key to my research, design a stunning book cover, type The End on a manuscript?

In the same way I cheer on my young grandchildren when they learn a new skill or stretch in anyway, I think He does. I think the act of writing, of linking words together  like beads on a string is a significant part of eternity. There’s a lot of dark influences in the world; anything we can do to push back the darkness even a little bit is worth doing.

Dieter F Uchdorf said in October 2008:

“The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before.

Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.

Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty—and I am not talking about the process of cleaning the rooms of your teenage children.

You might say, “I’m not the creative type. When I sing, I’m always half a tone above or below the note. I cannot draw a line without a ruler. And the only practical use for my homemade bread is as a paperweight or as a doorstop.”

If that is how you feel, think again, and remember that you are spirit daughters of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination.

But to what end were we created? We were created with the express purpose and potential of experiencing a fulness of joy. Our birthright—and the purpose of our great voyage on this earth—is to seek and experience eternal happiness. One of the ways we find this is by creating things.”

How does this apply to writing? Have you ever found yourself caught up in a plot line, enthused about  how well that part turned out, felt a swelling sense of accomplishment reading over words you personally strung together? In a very small (but valuable!) way, that’s a shadow of God’s creations. After the earth was created, Genesis records the Creator stepping back and saying, “It is good.” Not spectacularly overwhelmingly awesomely wonderful, but good. Our writing is like that. Perfection is a process. Anything we learn in this world becomes part of us, our very being. Learning to expand our skills in communication and expression is not sneeze-worthy.

In Alma 34 we read:

 Cry unto him when ye are in your fields, yea, over all your flocks.

Cry unto him in your houses, yea, over all your household, both morning, mid-day, and evening.

Yea, cry unto him against the power of your enemies.

 Yea, cry unto him against the devil, who is an enemy to all righteousness.

 Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them.

Cry over the flocks of your fields, that they may increase.

 But this is not all; ye must pour out your souls in your closets, and your secret places, and in your wilderness.

 Yea, and when you do not cry unto the Lord, let your hearts be full, drawn out in prayer unto him continually for your welfare, and also for the welfare of those who are around you.

I don’t have flocks or fields or crops. I’m not really an animal lover, and this is the first year in twenty-seven I didn’t plant a garden. What I do have is a desire to write. For a while, I felt funny praying for help in my writing, but old Alma had a point; if it matters to me, it’s worth praying over. 

Sometimes, usually in that place between awake and asleep, inspiration will strike me and I’ll pick up paper and pen. Ideas for a new book, a plot twist, a way to untangle written dialogue, a nudge to write that article I’ve been putting off; often, ideas flow faster than I can write them down, like a waterfall of inspiration. Irrelevant things, perhaps, in the scheme of things, but it’s a reminder that my attempts at creating are noticed outside of my own mind. Sometimes I can sense a heavenly cheering section, encouraging me on, imperfect though my attempts may be. 

Waffling about writing? Feeling like you’re not good enough? Get back to it anyway! And don’t forget to pray. Help stands waiting, I’m certain of it. 

Who am I to shine?

Who am I to shine?

by Deb Graham
 
I’ve cherished books since I was a little girl, wandering in the public library, longing to be old enough to venture unto the mysterious realm of the Middle Grades room, certain the thick books held untold mysteries, away from my beloved picture books.

Books are to be cherished. For every holiday since our first son was born, gifts have included a book. I want my kids to associate reading with happiness.  I taught them each to read when they were not much older than toddlers. As a character in my novel asserts, “The world can’t put anything over on a body who can read.” She’s a pioneer; they talk like that. 

I guess my love of books passed down. When the kids were young, I sometimes found myself scolding, “It’s one o’clock in the morning! Put down your book and be asleep!” I’d step into the hall, wondering if I was wrong to fuss. Perhaps I should have encouraged another chapter. I delight in hearing my grown children complain about their little ones reading far into the night, or, at least, sleeping with a pile of picture books.  

Reading is a gift.  But writing is a whole nuther thing.

Who am I to think I can write anything worth reading? A song, a poem, an article, a full-length book? We’re warned against pride and arrogance, cautioned about the virtues of humility, and to present before the world something out of our own creative minds is ...well, daunting.

We may admit, with lowered eyes, “Oh, I write a little.” Somehow saying, “I just published my eleventh non-fiction, one of them has almost  300 reviews on Amazon, my debut novel is selling well, I’m working on two more and I’ve collaborated on three others and I'm thinking about writing a peanut butter cookbook,” sounds like go-stand-in-the-corner boasting. Not to mention, it's anxiety-inducing. Wrapping words around actions can do that, you know.

Let’s look at some wisdom from reputable sources:

Matthew 5:16 (KJV) says “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

The Lord of all tells us to shine. By writing good quality books, articles, stories, poetry, blogs, music, etc, we push back the darkness.

Nelson Mandela quoted Marianne Williamson in an inaugural address:

 “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” (1)

In October 2008, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf said:

“The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before. Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.” (2)

To deny our probably-inspired creativity doesn’t benefit anyone. The World is great at cutting us down, making us feel inadequate; we need no help in that regard. What we need is  a source of uplift, a reminder that we’re on the right track. I hope we each can find that.

As you read this, I’ll be at the ANWA Northwest Retreat. It’s a coming together of like-minded women, all sharing ideas, strengthening one another, teaching, sharing, building relationships, mixed with time to write in complete, uninterrupted sentences in a beautiful setting.  Last year was my first retreat, and I came home feeling so energized, so accepted, so inspired, I was among the first to sign up this year.

 Last year’s retreat triggered three new books and two bathroom remodels (3), along with tangibly increased self-confidence. Who knows what will happen this time? 

One of the most valuable things I learned was to own it, to boldly say, “I’m an author!”

 ~~~                                ~~~

(1) “Our Deepest Fear” by Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles

(2)  Happiness, Your Heritage, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

(3) I designed the backsplashes in our bathrooms and made them of beach rocks from the retreat’s beach, which I gathered a month later. Benefit to living nearby!

All The World Is A Stage

by Deb Graham

 What was a shy, middle-aged Mormon mother doing, standing in a spotlight in a legendary comedy club in downtown Seattle, in front of a packed house of half-drunk critics, confidently wielding a microphone? In the vernacular, Killing It Dead.

A few years back, I hit a rough patch. In a fit of I’d-Better-Do-Something-Drastic-ism, I rashly signed up for a stand-up comedy class at the local community college. A couple of evenings a week spent laughing would be a healthy way to push back the walls, to do something just for me, right? Imagine my shock in the first class to learn that it was a participation course, not the spectator variety. Class members were expected to take turns on stage! For a set period of time!  No Stage Left until the light flashed!

Husband encouraged me, reminding me Mom didn’t raise a quitter.  “What have you got to lose?” 

I spent the week desperately seeking something– anything – funny. I came up with a few “bits” (the technical term; after all, this was a college course). My inner child shrieked in terror. What was I thinking? Who was I to even attempt standing on a real live stage before strangers, let alone say something giggle-worthy?

Tuesday arrived. The heavy microphone shook in my sweaty hands.  Forgetting all I had tediously rehearsed, I blurted, “I’m scared. I was talking to my husband at dinner. I knew it’d be my turn first tonight. I said, ‘What if I can’t do this? What if I faint on stage? What if they laugh at me?’” 

The outburst of sincere laughter startled me. Taking a breath, I reached into my blouse front for my note cards. They weren’t where I’d tucked them, minutes before!  In a panic, I dug deeper, muttering, “I know I had two in here a minute ago...”

As the laughter rang out, I felt an unexpected wave of the Holy Ghost's influence wash over me. Incongruous, at best; was a usually dignified Mormon woman supposed to be cracking jokes in a room full of “Gentiles” instead of at home, tackling the three page To Do list? For that moment, this one was. The Spirit testified that this was exactly what I needed to push back the walls, to regain my sense of Self that threatened to wash away under grief and loads of laundry, Cub Scouts and Girl Scout leadering, Primary Presidenting, supporting a husband who worked ten hour days and raising a boy so accident-prone the ER staff knew us by name, and a mentally ill son who made every day an adventure and the garden and... all of it.

 

 I made it through the rest of my time until the bright light flashed. Shaken by the performance, I stumbled to my seat.  Applause filled the small theatre. I heard a man behind me exclaim, “I’ve been to a lot of comedy clubs, and I’d pay $20 to see her again!”

  Me?

To wrap up the story: That class, and the three subsequent ones, changed my life. I was invited to perform at Comedy Central in Seattle, a couple of scouts demanded interviews, I performed on television, I was clearly on the rise as a stand-up comedian. The Circuit beckoned.

But wait...was that my goal? Not really. After a year, I stepped off the stage. Oh, I still emcee the ward talent show, but that’s about it.  However, that experience changed me. It drew out a confidence I lacked, from somewhere deep inside me. I learned I can make people laugh, be it a crowd of two hundred drunks  or a twelve-year-old on the verge of a come-apart. I’m lighter, myself.  I can see the funny side of just about every situation, sometimes even in the middle of it. I’m no longer intimidated by microphones or spotlights. I can improvise a talk or lesson easily. I found my voice: I can handle rejection.  I felt the Spirit encourage me as I developed this peculiar talent.

This is a writing blog, and I didn’t forget that. It just looks like I did. A few years ago, my husband encouraged me to write a book. “Just do it. You have the skills and the knowledge. Just write.” 

As I shook my head, I again felt the Holy Ghost nudging me forward, onto a stage where strangers would look at me,  my thoughts, my ideas, my concepts. They might turn away, they might laugh, they might reject me or love me, but I had to try. So my first book was birthed. I’m currently working on Books #11, #12, and #13.

Yes, three at once. What have I got to lose?

What steps have you taken to develop a talent you didn’t know existed? When daily life threatens to crush the light out of you, how do you push back? I’d really love to hear from you, and I promise not to laugh. Probably. 

Things That Block Writing

by Marsha Ward @MarshaWard

Lately, it's been very hard for me to write. This state hit about the time June came around, with temperatures shooting through the roof in the first week. Now, of course, massive parts of Arizona are under an excessive heat warning, even in my neck of the woods, so it's even harder to put my mind on business.

I've tried several things to get myself out of the doldrums: changing up my sleep time; napping more frequently, especially when it's so hot; putting several water bottles in the refrigerator to cool them, then actually drinking them; wearing a minimum of clothing; napping in a room that doesn't have the sun beating on it; eating lighter meals; using a spray bottle for frequent drenching; and taking a cool shower whenever I feel like it.

To no avail on the writing-a-book front. It's just too hot to think. I'm not acclimatized to higher temperatures yet.

I've tried to be more accountable for the progress of my writing by signing up for a summer-long writing event, and getting a new critique partner.

Yes, I'm getting work done in other areas: social media, blogging, re-doing a website that needed updating (more to do there), planning publication of other pieces, buying covers, formatting manuscripts for ebooks, and the like.

But Ella Ruth, my main character in the novel, isn't talking to me.

I have finally come to the conclusion that 1) I wrote a scene that Ella Ruth doesn't want in the story, and 2) she is hesitant to move on from the comfortable zone of her pity party.

I know about pity parties. I have massive to minor ones quite often. It's a thing with writers, but fortunately, most of us don't long dwell on the cause. Especially if we have ADD or ADHD. We eventually move on.

Ella Ruth has been in her doldrums since I released Gone for a Soldier two years ago. In her real time, though, it's been less than a year since the close of the American Civil War.

I guess the only thing I can do is keep writing scenes and listen to her. I hope she will approve of the new ones and help me get back on track.

Positive Thoughts Beget Positivity

Jeremiah 4:14: "...How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee?"

by Susan Allred
 
When I was called into the Relief Society Presidency six months ago, I felt seriously under-qualified for the position.  I remember my first thought being, 'I'd better step it up, if I'm going to accept this calling.'

One of the things I've spent the last several months earnestly working on has been my thoughts.  To me, it's always been easy to do the right thing, basically because I don't want to get caught doing the wrong thing.  But my thoughts are something entirely different because no one holds me accountable for them.  Who is going to say anything if I secretly criticize the speaker in Sacrament, or conjure up fifteen ways to murder my toddler while he's in the middle of a world-class tantrum? Plus, as a writer, I spend an inordinate amount of time lost in my own thoughts.   

As I've earnestly endeavored to improve my thoughts, I've discovered something fascinating: Thoughts not muddled with negativity, create thoughts steeped with positivity and creativity! I get along with my husband better, I don't want to yell at my children as often, and I'm better prepared to handle whatever life throws at me. Plus, I spend less time brooding, and more time plotting out the next scene in my book, or entirely new stories. 

My deeds now reflect my thoughts. And I guess they always have. It's just that my thoughts are now productive, less depressed, and I'm able to hear the Spirit more often.  Do I have a long way to go? Heck yeah! But I've reached a point where I'm beginning to notice those changes, and so has my family.