What Do You (Really) Want To Say?

Ever had those moments where you just need to speak your mind? It builds like a slow burning fire, until finally you can’t stand it anymore and you let her rip. Yeah, me neither.

Kidding. I get those moments a lot. I read something, hear something, see something that immediately kicks my heart-rate into high gear. But, much as I want to, more often than not, I don’t speak. I don’t say what I really want to because…well…honestly…I don’t know why. Perhaps I’m afraid of the repercussions if I do. Perhaps I know that what I really want to say won’t be accepted or even heard. Perhaps I know that what’s irking me really isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. Or, perhaps, I’m just afraid.

Fear is one of the biggest obstacles standing in the way of healthy communication.

Right? Think about it. How many times have you walked away from a conversation with some regret? How many times have you come ‘this close’ to saying what you really need to, but don’t? I’m not one to confront, I avoid confrontation like the plague. It makes me all churned up inside. Maybe that’s just my personality. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about what other people think. But I do.

So it’s kind of funny that in my writing, I don’t really give much thought to having my characters speak their mind. Or maybe it’s not funny. Maybe this is my way of saying what I really want to say.

Over the last year, I’ve struggled with figuring out the kind of writer I want to be. And then I realized it’s not a matter of ‘wanting to be’. I already am that writer.

I don’t agonize over every word. I don’t worry about offending anyone, but neither do I intentionally set out to do so. I’ve been around long enough to know that no matter how hard you try, somebody out there is going to find something to pick on and get their knickers in a twist over. It happens. I’m not perfect and neither are my characters. As I’ve said before, (in this blog post)  I won’t pretty it up and put a bow on it. Sure, there’s a market for those Candyland type books, but I don’t read them and I don’t want to write them.

I write the kind of books I want to read. It’s that simple.

I live a real life complete with struggles and heartbreak and lots of love and laughter in between. I bet you do too. And sometimes life gets so hard you don’t know what to do with it. You don’t know where to find hope. But somehow, somewhere along the journey, you do. You catch a glimpse of it and you reach out and hold tight with everything you’ve got. And one day, you wake up, rub the grit from your eyes and find yourself standing in the middle of a miracle.

In this ever-changing world, we need a constant. A touchstone. Something solid that we know we can rely on, something that we know we’d be utterly bereft without. For me, that’s God. My faith. It may be for you as well, or it may be your spouse, your dog, your cat or your Mom. When I set out to tell a story, I want that book to be a touchstone. I want my readers to see my name on the cover and know exactly what they’re going to get. I want them to know that somewhere in those pages, they’re going to find hope.

I don’t want to disappoint. But I will remain true to myself and the words I believe God gives me. I write from the heart. It’s not always pretty. People fail. They sin. They might say crap. And maybe some other stuff. And yes, those same people might even be Christians. If that offends you, then you probably don’t want to read my books. But if you believe that we’re all put on this earth for a purpose, we’re all on a journey of faith in some way shape or form, all searching for hope, for truth, then you might find that my words resonate with you.

I may not always be great at expressing myself in person, but I will always strive to be honest. And I will always write the truth, with integrity and transparency. And, in my writing at least, I will say what I really want to say.

Your thoughts? 

Winging It

I’ve never been great at blogging, even though I’ve been doing it for years. Even before I was published or knew I was going to be or that I even wanted to be. I just love to write. These days, it’s all about platform, tribes, Twitter… The ways we can connect with one another are staggering. But I think the Blog is perhaps one of the best. It allows for a bit of transparency you might not get over Twitter or Facebook. Reading blogs is often like stopping by for a cup of coffee. Those are the kinds of blogs I enjoy. That’s the kind of blog I’d like to have.

So, in the spirit of adventure, I’m going for it.

I’ve decided to quit worrying about how many ‘followers’ I have. Who’s reading, who’s not. I don’t want to lay awake thinking about how I can attract more people to my blog because the more people that read my blog, the more people that might be interested in my book, and the more people that buy it….you get the idea. It’s exhausting.

Not having a thousand followers on my blog or twitter feed does not make me any less of a writer.

It doesn’t mean I’m not likeable.

It doesn’t mean anything. 

Not really. Not in a big picture world.

Would I like to be a best-selling author and see my book on some list someplace and have people clamoring to get to the front of the line at a book signing? I don’t know. That’s my honest answer. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m such an introvert that part of me wants to hide under the table at the very idea. But the truth is, I do have a book out there. Another on the way. I have achieved my dream of becoming a published author, but now I have to adjust that dream, that reality, take it in at the seams a bit and make sure it’s a good fit. For me. I want to be good at what I do. I want to create meaningful stories that touch readers and leave them wanting more. But I don’t need to kill myself trying to get on the ‘A’ list. Although the world tells me otherwise, it’s not all about the numbers.

It’s about being me. About being transparent. About reaching out when everyone around me is reaching for – trying to lay their hands on some prize they think might make all the difference in the world.

I left my old blog and started this ‘new’ blog – about books – because I thought something different might be nice. Truthfully, it’s fun. I love books. I love writing them. I love reading them. And I love the people that write them too – having all these cool authors stop by on Fridays is super amazing! But if it’s just all about books, you won’t really get to know me.

So here’s what I’m going to do. On Mondays, I’ll get a little personal. Maybe not each week.  You’ll never know until you check. It’ll be like that prize in the cereal box. I may blather on about things that bore you to death, I might annoy you, I might even scare you off from coming back to this blog ever again. On the other hand, you might find out I’m a little more like you than you thought. You might make I friend. I might make one too.

I hope so.

So here’s the skinny on me:

I call myself a Christian but I don’t always act like one. Or like I think a Christian is supposed to act. I’m still trying to figure out what that’s supposed to look like. This art of loving God, loving Jesus. Being Jesus with skin on. It’s sometimes too wonderful and terrible and confusing and awesome to wrap my brain around. So I guess you could say I’m on a faith journey. I know where I’m going, I’m just not familiar with the road map and sometimes my GPS goes on the fritz.

I am a wife and a mother, but not a terribly good one. I mess up a lot. Say stupid things and I can be incredibly selfish. I have an amazing husband who puts up with all my crap and I put up with his, and we’re good like that. I love hanging out with him. After twenty-five years, I find this fact amazing. I am Mom to a photographer daughter and a guitar playing, soul-singing son, and they are walking testimonies to the fact that God is in control of all things. I raised them, and they’re not mentally insane, in jail or heading toward a career in politics. They’re actually productive members of society, love Jesus, and both of them have a butt load of talent that just blows me away. I am also a doggie mom to Noah, my three year-old border collie – my third child.

I am a published author. This kind of freaks me out. Sometimes I’ll pick up my book and just stare at it. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to wake up one day and find out I dreamed it all. I’m scared that I’ll never have another one published or if I do, it’ll bomb and everyone will laugh at me. I get freaked out when I don’t hear from my agent or editor and I’m pretty OCD about checking email every five seconds. And I hate that I have to live with myself. I’m a little kooky sometimes.

I’m insecure. I can be shy and at times you might think I’m rude, but I’m really not trying to be. If I was trying to be, you’d know it. I have quite a sarcastic sense of humor and some people just don’t ‘get me’. (I actually DO have friends, I promise). So you know, if you’re reading this and thinking I’m just really weird, well, yeah. I was adopted at birth and searched for my birth mother and found out she was Maxine. Okay, kidding. But I really was adopted and I really did find my birth mother. She wasn’t Maxine. Maybe we’ll talk about that someday.

I live on a tiny island called Bermuda. It’s beautiful. It’s a little whacked. I’m not sure I want to live anywhere else, but some days I do.

I love the life I have and I’m trying to do good things with it, love God, love people and have a whole lot of fun along the way.

What do you think? Do you like impersonal, informative blogs or do you prefer getting to know a person?

Speak if you’ve got something to say, I’m listening.