A Brief Update: Moving Toward Fall

I would say that summer has flown by, except for two things: 1) I don't have kids, so "summer vacation" isn't really a concept in my brain anymore, and 2) it's still effing hot outside. Despite that, I'm really looking forward to fall (even though I miss leaf-changing weather). Pumpkin-flavored everything shall soon be here, and I will have an excuse to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, bake pumpkin pies, and run around in the little pumpkin hat I crocheted last year (yes, I totally will do that--just you wait!).



Just as I'm looking forward to the new season, I'm also transitioning into a new season of life in a way. Last month I got a second part-time publishing job, doing more of what I do, also working from home. Something I tend to forget until after the fact: prayer works. We've been praying for me to find another job, and after a few applications and interviews went nowhere, this one (much like my first publishing job) literally just fell into my lap when I was least expecting it. And with the acquisition of some new furniture (like a chest of drawers and a desk), Stuart and I are making our house feel even more like a home (having a nice desk in the study has helped me be more productive too--no more working where I eat!).

Something I'd like to do as we head into fall: balance my life better. I want to figure out a good structure for my week, now that I have two publishing jobs, a marketing class, a social life, church, and housekeeping to balance, to name a few things. Sometimes I have a hard time resting on the weekends and on weeknights--partially because I'm not as diligent during the day, feel guilty, and then feel like I need to do everything before bed. I'm trying to get in the habit of getting all my work done during the day, on weekdays, so I can have afternoons, evenings, and weekends free to hang out with my husband and with friends, to read, practice archery, crochet and knit, cook, or play video games (Skyrim is my current addiction).

Well, I think I'll leave it at that for now. Hopefully my next post will include progress in those areas. Until then, happy September!

Books!

Because who doesn't love books?

I once read somewhere that some people read, but don't "see" what they are reading in their heads. This blew my mind when I first heard of it, because for me, it is totally and completely normal for epic scenes and faces and landscapes to play across my mind's eye as I'm reading a good bit of literature. That's just the way it has always been with me, and probably at least part of the reason why I have loved to read for as long as I can remember.

Something I discovered this week about loving to read is that no matter how long it's been since you've had time to pick up a new book (or an old favorite), when you run into someone else who loves it as much as you do, you suddenly have SO much to talk about. It's like that C.S. Lewis quote: "Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: 'What! You, too? I thought I was the only one.'" I had a wonderful, engaging conversation with a woman and her teenage daughter this week all because of our mutual love of books (and mutual distaste for a certain popular vampire book series, but that's another story).

The beauty of books doesn't just lie in their story-telling or in the way they can bring people together, but in their ability to change people's minds, to give a new perspective, to help you understand exactly what it means to empathize with and think about the Other, and sometimes, to turn book haters into avid readers.

So here's where I'd like to hear back from you. What are some books that have stuck with you long after you turned the final page? How about books that you can read over and over again? Books you just really enjoyed reading? Or books you want to read? Some of mine overlap these categories, as I'm sure yours do. To kick things off, here are a few of mine, and this list is definitely NOT exhaustive:

Books that have stayed with me:
The Road, Cormac McCarthy (and by "stayed with me" I mean "haunted me")
Harry Potter series, JK Rowling
The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
The Dead, James Joyce (technically a short story, but I was surprised how much I enjoyed it, despite my hatred of Ulysses)

Books I can read over and over:
Harry Potter series, JK Rowling
The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
The Princess Bride, William Goldman (Yes, there was a book before there was a movie; you should go read it!)

Books I want to read (or re-read!):
Dracula, Bram Stoker (re-read)
Good Omens, Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman (re-read)
The entire Sherlock Holmes series, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (I've only read a few of the novels and stories)
 The Wise Man's Fear, Patrick Rothfuss (in progress!)
Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman
The Sandman, Neil Gaiman (graphic novels and comics count!)

Even though this post focused on fiction, I'd love to hear if you have some non-fiction titles on your lists! Also, let me know if you have any book recommendations. I'm always looking for new books.

Through the eyes of children

Today was a scorcher, and as such, I took my work to Starbucks this afternoon for the air conditioning and the promise of free refills of green tea. I sat toward the back, at a long table near an outlet, facing the windows that look out over the small patch of grass between the coffeehouse and a main stretch of road. At one point in the evening, when the sun was low enough to cast a shadow over the lawn, I saw a young girl and her mother sitting on the grass with their drinks. The mother sat in quiet conversation with her friend, but the girl didn't look like she wanted to sit down. She had things to do.

By the looks of her, I'd say she was around 6 or 7 years old, dressed in a hot pink tank and shorts. She stood at the top of this little mound of grass, intermittently sipping her drink and holding out her other hand in front of her, facing the road. To me, it looked like she was pretending to control the cars, or direct traffic. Later on she planted one hand on her hip, held her other out toward the road, and occasionally pointed in the direction the cars were driving, as if to say, "Yes, it's safe to go now, move right along."

I am 26 now. I would look very silly if I were to do what she was doing. I have two decades of life experience on this girl. I am very aware of the horrible things happening across the world, and in our own country. I struggle with doubts and worries and fears. Sometimes, and I think we all have moments like this, I wish for the simplicity of seeing the world through the eyes of a child. 

The funny thing about life is there's no going back to that, once you've grown up. But this little traffic director girl got me thinking, so here I am.

Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to have kids one day. There are many reasons why, but she reminded me of one of them...

You can never go back to being a child, but you can remember what it was like and experience it with your own (or other people's) children. I'm not talking about living vicariously through your kids, or imposing things on them you missed out on, regardless of whether they actually have interest in the activity. I'm talking about being amazed when they learn how to do something new, or running away from scary dinosaurs and rescuing their friends while you drive on your couch in your firetruck. I'm not a mom yet, and I know things will be exhausting during that season of life, and those little moments won't be so easy to notice or appreciate. I just hope that I will remember to take note of them when I see them, to live with my kids in those moments. Even from watching my friends' kids, I know how quickly they grow up. They learn new things and don't always need you to swoop in to help them anymore. There's a time and place for that, but there is also a time and place for just sitting back, watching them use their imagination, and marveling at their creativity and honesty.

If that sounds lofty and idealized, oh well. Maybe you should go lay in the grass and try to find shapes in the clouds for a while. Better yet, bring a kid with you and look together. You might be surprised at what you find.

Adrift in Oceans Deep

I had an odd experience in a swimming pool this weekend, and I'm not sure why it happened. Let me preface this by saying I was fine, and in the shallow end, and nothing really happened. It's more the sensation that accompanied my bobbing around in shoulder deep water that was odd.

I was house/dog-sitting and since it's been ridiculously hot lately, I decided to take a dip in the pool, alone (everyone else was out of town). I'll be the first one to tell you I am not a strong swimmer. I once jumped into the middle of a lake on a church retreat and nearly panicked treading water with nothing below my feet (not to mention the mere thought of something swimming by and touching me). My body tired out quickly, I was breathing irregularly from focusing on not dipping below the surface and somehow forgetting how to breathe, and tried not to make a spectacle of myself as I scrambled back to the boat. From then on, I used a life vest as a sort of underwater hammock and pleasantly floated around, carefree, for the rest of the trip.

Until this past weekend, I don't think I've ever been in any body of water alone. The weather was hot, the pool was cool but not cold--it was refreshing. And I was fine up until the water was over my shoulders. I tried to tread water, just to see if I could (since I am really bad at it), and the same thing happened as in that lake. Tired. Can't breathe. Heart pounding. Can't stay above the surface. And even though my feet were still touching the bottom once I stood up, my body reacted as if nothing had changed--as if there was nothing below me to keep me afloat. The weirdest part is that mentally, I was completely calm and honestly a bit surprised at the disconnect between my mind and body reaction in those moments. My chest felt tight, my heart was beating harder than usual, and I felt like I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. In the shallow end of the pool. With my feet on solid ground.

I didn't stay in the pool very long. And I've been thinking about it ever since. Aside from the lyrics of Jack Johnson's "Drink the Water" continually popping into my head, I've at least been able to conclude a couple of things. One: When Stuart and I have kids, I want them to have plenty of swimming lessons so they don't feel freaked out in a few feet of water, no matter the circumstances. Two... well, I'm getting to that.

I can't explain why my body reacted that way. I don't know if it was because I was alone or what. But since I was an English major in college (who am I kidding, I'm still an English major) and my brain works in a particular way, I couldn't help but think about how often sinking or drowning imagery is used to describe a feeling or a situation, and there's good reason for that. I think we take for granted the ability to float, swim, do tricks, what have you (at least those of us who are adept swimmers). But to "sink like a stone" is overwhelming, and frightening. You feel crushed, breathless, helpless. Things happen in life that leave you feeling like you are drowning, sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no hope of escape or rescue.

Since becoming a Christian several years ago, I feel like the number of "drowning" events in my life have sky-rocketed. Lately, I haven't felt very strong in my relationship with the Lord. This is unrelated to the hardships of life, and more just neglect on my part. I believe in Him, and believe He is who He says He is. But my heart hasn't been following suit much, and I've been trying to figure out why. My scatter-brained-ness kicks in, or I get distracted by the myriad other things going on in my life and somehow manage to forget about Jesus. Thankfully, His faithfulness isn't dependent on mine. I live by faith, by His grace. There may be times when I feel overwhelmed, like the world is sending things my way that just crush and confuse me. I sometimes feel lost, like I'm adrift on the ocean, struggling to stay afloat in the uncertainty and sinking quicker by the second.

But I don't doubt for a moment that God is right there with me, His hand in mine, keeping me afloat (or pulling me out of the deep entirely). I've had opportunities to sink into hopelessness, and would have, if not for Jesus. Thing is, I don't want to just float, or "get by," anymore. I want to walk to Him across the water, instead of sinking like Peter, like I always do. God has proven faithful over and over again, even when I have not. He has given me every reason to trust Him and yet when the storms come, I act like the disciples in Mark 4.

I'll close with this: the first time I heard "Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)" by Hillsong United, I wanted to cry. It spoke to a deep part of my heart, and I want it to be my prayer each time I hear it. Thanks for reading.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

Shiny

Over the last week or so, my husband and I watched Firefly in its entirety, followed of course by Serenity. I wonder why it took me so long to finally sit down and watch it. I think over the last few years I became aware that Firefly existed, simply from being on the internet, and I understood it was cancelled before its time and had a cult TV status due to its fanbase. I already knew those things. The difference now is that I understand why people were so distraught over the cancellation.

Something I've noticed when I watch anything by Joss Whedon--he does ensembles well. I am basing this on my years of watching Buffy and Angel (and, of course, The Avengers, but let's talk TV). Whedon strikes a good balance in his works, even with (or especially because of) so many different characters. He shows you who these people are individually, and who they are as a group. The show is never just about one person, it's about many people, who together make a unit of some sort--family, crew, Scoobies, what have you. I suppose you can argue that those are all types of family. If you were to ask me right now who my favorite character on Firefly is, I don't think I could pick just one for you. And I think that's a good thing.

The thing I love about Firefly is you can try to break down the characters into basic categories, but there is so much to each individual that it becomes impossible to fit them into a particular trope. "Space western" doesn't encompass the dynamics between the people in this universe. You look at traditional western movies and you get several things: the good guys, the bad guys, the damsels in distress, etc. Nothing is that black-and-white in Firefly.

If I go on about all the nuances and themes and trope-breaking in Firefly, we'll be here all night.

To sum up....

Now that I've seen Firefly, I can understand the devastation the fans, Whedon, and members of the cast must have felt when it ended... because I feel a bit of that myself. Especially after realizing that had the show not been cancelled and had contracts for the movie worked out differently, certain beloved characters would not have died (grr... argh...).

See what I did with that last bit? Okay, I'm done now... the point is, there was so much potential cut short.

On a related note, I've never been one to go out and buy comics for myself. Sure, I'll read some of the ones my husband has, but I've never gone out of my way for them. However, now that I know the Serenity stories continue in comic book form, it's starting to look like that's going to change very quickly.

New Month Already?

Really? It's June? (insert general remarks about how fast the year is going)

No, that last bit wasn't a reminder that I forgot to remove before posting. It's a quip to imply how silly it is for me to be surprised when this happens ALL THE TIME. Remember in school how the year used to take FOREVER? For. Ev. Er. And now, with each progressive year post high school (or even post college) it seems like time just slips through my fingers more and more quickly. Maybe it's because as we get older our list of responsibilities grows exponentially. It's easy for time to get away from you when you're distracted by a million and a half things.

I don't have too much to say tonight, even though there is so much I could talk about (all those million and a half responsibilities and concerns scratching at my door). All I can say is, May was a rough month. It had its highlights, for sure. But overall the last couple of months have been, well... stressful. Praying for a change and for God's wisdom in our lives.

See you next time.

I have been to Middle-Earth

This time last year, I was walking around Middle-Earth. Nope, not New Zealand (although I dearly want to go someday). Norway. I didn't realize how much Norse myth influenced J.R.R. Tolkien's work until my husband started doing research for his own novel (set to debut this summer--stay tuned!). And after walking, biking, and climbing around glacier-carved valleys deep in the fjords of Norway, I'm convinced the landscape influenced him as well.

Seriously, the only thing this picture is missing is a panorama shot of the endless snow-capped mountains surrounding us, and a dramatic swell of music (preferably from The Return of the King as each progressive beacon in the mountains was lit, because that music and those images made me cry the first time I saw it in theaters and that feeling is the only way I can describe how absolutely, heart-achingly beautiful the view from here was).

One thing that kind of made me raise an eyebrow leading up to our trip were some of the reactions I got when I told people we were going to Norway. "Huh, why Norway?" "Really? Norway?" As I had only seen pictures at the time, I explained as best I could how beautiful it was and how excited we were to traipse around the fjords for a week. Now that I've been there, my response would be more along the lines of "WHY NOT NORWAY? Have you SEEN it?" Please excuse the caps lock attack, but the idea that anyone would ever not want to see Norway is absolutely ridiculous to me.

Things work differently there. I know that's a simplistic, seemingly-obvious statement that can be applied not only to other countries, but other states--but it's true. Strangely enough this dawned on me when I was crossing a pedestrian bridge over a stream in Sogndal, saw a car coming down the road, and stopped, only to have the driver stop and wave me across the road. One of the locals later informed me that there are laws in place that protect pedestrians and persecute drivers who don't stop for them, even if the pedestrian isn't looking. Mind-boggling. I don't know how many times I've nearly been clipped by drivers who don't give a damn while trying to cross an intersection.

Anyway, oddball example aside, we were deep in the fjords, in a tiny town called Solvorn, and it felt like time didn't really apply there. Everything was so quiet, the people (both local and other internationals we encountered) were kind and friendly. We were essentially staying in the equivalent of the rural countryside. Pre-vacation, some people told us we wouldn't really need to know Norwegian to get around, but we learned some anyway. Sure enough, we ran into people who didn't really know English. Came in handy when we needed to order "to varmtsjokolade" at a tiny cafe in Luster along our bike trip and pay our bus driver to and from Solvorn.

Shameless plug time: if you ever go to Norway, spend some time at Eplet Bed and Apple in Solvorn. It's super affordable, the people who run it are wonderful  (and can help plan your outdoor excursions), and the apple juice is literally the best thing you will ever drink. Plus, you get to meet all sorts of people from all over. We met a group of English guys, a German family, and so many other lovely people during our stay.

I could write about this trip, the places we saw, and the lovely people we met for ages, but then this post would be as long as those mountains are high. So I'll settle for closing with this:

A (literal) full day of JUST traveling on either end of the trip in order to get there and back again (womp-womp, see what I did there?), the quarter-of-a-mile long cue at Heathrow, my swollen ankles from those stupid hiking boots I wore when we climbed that glacier, my aching legs from an arduous 40-something-mile bike ride that I was convinced I was going to die doing (sort of--those hills were no joke, and don't get me started on those three damp, unlit, completely dark tunnels were biked through with only tiny, dim flashlights)--all of it was so worth it. And honestly, those things are secondary. The pure, unmarred beauty of the fjords, our experiences there, and the friends we made trump any discomfort or stress along the way.

I think about this trip a lot, and I miss the place, the people, everything. This was my first trip outside of the US (or even the West Coast), and it certainly won't be my last. We will go back again, someday. Meanwhile, there are so many other places I want to see. England, Ireland, Italy, New Zealand... I'll see them one day. Until then, I hope I don't forget to appreciate the beauty of things and the people I know where I live. I think it's good to want to see other places, but I often find I need to keep my heart in check, lest I pine away for distant lands and forget about home. Besides, there are plenty of adventures waiting right outside my door. I just need to step out and have them.