Thanks Giving

It's that time of year: time to give thanks for all the things that we have. (Or don't have: I'm thankful that I do not have Ebola... or malaria... or scrofungulus... or a host of other real or fabricated ailments. We've dealt with brain tumors this year -- and I'm very thankful that the whole brain-surgery-thing is in the rear-view mirror. I'm thankful that there are some things we didn't have to deal with.)

Since it's been a helluva year I've tried to make it a daily (sometimes hourly) practice to articulate all the things I'm thankful for when life appears to be driving straight for disaster with its foot on the gas and its eyes squinched shut. Sometimes, finding stuff to be overtly thankful for means starting small and maintaining a running inner commentary:

I'm thankful that I can see. And that the sky is an amazing shade of blue today. And I can smell. Mmmmm: coffee. Thankful for coffee. Oh yes: thankful for coffee.

Am I thankful for my fabulous husband undergoing not one, but two brain surgeries and subsequent radiation? Well, no... But, if that surgery results in him living a longer, healthier, happier life, then yes.

Am I thankful for the publisher who optioned 4 of my titles who then axed their children's imprint, resulting in them returning the rights to 2 of the projects? Am I grateful that the same publisher had such a different vision for the remaining books that both my agent and I agreed asking for the rights back was the best possible decision? After climbing out of the pit of disappointment (which can be deep; I won't lie), I can say "yes." Because working with that publisher showed me my agent's true stripes. And she's aces. And for that I am thankful -- every day.

KNIGHT FALL's Benjamin & Katrine.

In the spirit of the day, I wanted to say 'Thank You" to those who have graced my life this year. I'd like to give you a reason to give thanks as well. So, to thank you for stopping by, at the end of this post is a gorgeous, original, adult coloring mandala made by the endlessly talented Karina Dale. Enjoy!

(Incidentally, Karina [@xkxdx] is one of the people I am eternally thankful for. When I'm working on a new project, I describe my characters to her, and she brings them to life. I totally mean it when I say that her art inspires me. See what I mean in the pic at the left.)

I am so thankful for my family. My daughter will be a teenager in a matter of weeks. I'm grateful that she's still young enough to think I'm cool. And, on the occasions that adolescence and hormones combine in a mucky emotional mix, I'm grateful that she's growing up and becoming her own person.

I'm thankful, too, for my husband. After more than a quarter century together, he still thinks I'm fascinating and funny. He's my biggest fan. I am grateful for every day that we have together.

I am daily grateful for all of my clients.

I am humbled at the trust placed in me by those who retain me as their writing coach. They regularly inspire me both with their creativity and their perseverance. They give me their manuscripts to tear to shreds edit, then, armed with my comments, they wade back into the fray, working tirelessly to make their stories better, stronger, deeper. And no one is more thankful than I when they succeed.

I am also honored at the faith my private clients have in my writing abilities. This year, it has been a pleasure to work with the U.S. Polo Association and the U.S. Hunter Jumper Association on various projects.

Please follow this blog. Click to print.

I am thankful to the many talented people who were willing to give of their time and talents to help me with a book launch -- and who were uber-gracious when they learned that their efforts were going to be put on hold indefinitely. This includes the amazing book cover artist S. P. McConnell, the brilliant piano improv musician Stan Stewart, and my longsuffering director friend Paul Martin, among others.

My gratitude for the critters who share my life -- horses, dogs, chickens (and the scrumptious eggs they lay), and parrots -- knows no bounds. I am grateful for the freedoms we still have in this country. I am grateful for Greek Yogurt, dark chocolate, cinnamon Red Hots, fresh-baked bread, and hot coffee. The more I consider the things in my life, the more I have to be grateful for.

That gratitude includes you. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to spend it giving thanks with me. I'm sure you have your own list of things for which you are thankful. If you've posted it somewhere on line, link to it in the Comments below, and I'll be sure to share your gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Quick-Reference Guide to Making It Through

Life doesn't always go as planned.

I thought this past weekend would be busy: a good friend planned to visit for a few days and I was scheduled to both sing and direct the choir for Easter service.

On Thursday, I was trying to figure out how I was going to get everything done that needed to be done before the weekend hit -- grocery shopping, animal feed and bedding bought, house cleaned, Easter basket goodies procured. Then I took WunderGuy to the hospital for his MRI...

...and suddenly, the little concerns that had been filling my mind were forcibly evicted to make room for the rather morbidly obese concerns that came barreling in and started complaining about the tiny size of their living quarters.

Instead of our planned holiday weekend, WunderGuy enjoyed a brisk, midnight ambulance ride to U of MI, where they drilled holes in his skull and drained blood and fluid through tubes that ended in things that looked, ironically, like hand grenades.

Sleepless nights! [check]

Unexpected stress! [check]

Vast quantities of blank uncertainty! [check. check]

But now it's Tuesday. Easter is over, and in keeping with the weekend's themes of Passover and New Life, WunderGuy has made it through. He was released Monday afternoon. We are both grateful to be home.

Some thoughts on making it through a situation you never wanted to face:

Keep Your Spirits Up
The problem won't go away just because you want it to. You have to deal with it. Time will continue ticking and dragging you forward with it. Chin up! Instead of wallowing in misery or fear, focus on just one thing at a time, and leapfrog forward from moment to moment as positively as possible.
 
Find Something to Be Thankful For
Yes, there can be gratitude even in crisis. The past few days have made me thankful for skilled medical professionals, readily available coffee, and my amazing friends. I'm thankful for free hospital wi-fi. I'm thankful my car runs. I'm thankful that my daughter is healthy and is getting to spend some quality time with her grandpa. I'm thankful that WunderGuy isn't in a great deal of pain.

After talking with some of the other patients' families here, my List O' Gratitude grew exponentially. I'm also thankful that WG can see, that he is not battling addiction, that he can think clearly, and that his personality hasn't changed.

My friend, the fantastic photographer Charles Hilton, once told me about his first day as a soldier in Vietnam. Shortly after getting off the plane, his unit was attacked. He remembered lying on the ground, concussed and terrified, and opening his eyes -- to notice that the light coming through the jungle trees was the most beautiful he'd ever seen. And he thought "with light like that, I can keep on going."

Laugh a Little
I'm guilty of gallows humor. I can find humor -- usually wildly inappropriate humor -- in just about any situation.

It's a gift that's not always appreciated.

But laughter can go a long way toward making the unknown bearable. We spent most of Friday in U of MI's ER, waiting to be admitted, waiting for the surgeon... Waiting.

Fortunately, I had brought along a couple of Terry Pratchett's "Discworld" books. Seriously. Fiction is a wonderful way to pass the time when the cosmic shoe has dropped upon you. It offers a quick escape. It provides quotable passages, enabling you to interact with others, if you wish, without having to search for something cogent to say.

It's amazing how quickly laughter can stave off fear. The two loathe each other and refuse to spend much time in each other's company. Given my druthers, I'd rather hang with laughter.

Send for Support
A crisis is not the time to try to go it alone. Let people you know and trust know what is going on. If you are a private person, you don't have to go into all the gory details. You could just say "Something has come up. It's too big for me to handle alone. I could really use your prayers and support for the next few days."

Tell people only as much as you want to. And don't be afraid to ask for what you need. 

I am so blessed that my father is nearby, so our 12 year old daughter could stay near home with him instead of chewing her nails 150 miles away in the ER. 

A good friend stepped in and took care of the horses, dogs, chickens, ducks, and barn cats while we were away. 

Another good friend came for a visit and brought a giant casserole of food, knowing that we'd appreciate it. (Thank God for her; when we returned yesterday, all we had to do was heat and eat. Mmmmm!)

My fabulous agent, who has her hands full with her own life, talked with me on the phone while WG was in surgery. Since at that point, I'd been awake for nearly 36 hours, I doubt I made much sense. Yet she never let on.

Have Faith
In the time it took for me to send a few hastily typed texts, WunderGuy was on multiple prayer lists and countless support networks. I don't even know how many people know about his condition. But I've heard from many people who heard from a friend... or a church member... or a colleague. And I am grateful for their well-wishes.

One dear Mormon friend, who lives half a continent away, made a few phone calls and sent a pair of missionaries to us, to bless WG. We are not Mormon. But their prayer was lovely and the blessing greatly appreciated.

One sweet friend who is an atheist sent short messages of love and encouragement. She does not share my belief in an all-powerful, all-loving God. But she is faithful with her support, which means the world to us.

Knowing that other people are thinking of us and supporting us, lifting us up in whatever way is meaningful to them energizes us enough to keep doing that moment-to-moment leapfrog thing I mentioned earlier.

Remember: Yours is Not the Only Battle in the War
Resist the temptation to think that your crisis has somehow become the center of the world. It may be what your world revolves around. But other people have to deal with their own things, too--often, at the same time as you.

While WunderGuy and I were in the ER, others we knew were in crisis as well. Fifteen hundred miles away, a writer friend was in the ER with her son, who is battling strep. A colleague in Colorado was in the ER with her business manager who had a torn rotator cuff and cracked bones. A good friend was losing a battle with addiction issues. And another friend was enduring a months'-long headache that refuses to be controlled.

60 hours after surgery: WunderGuy & I are headed home!

Commiserating with these people, as well as with the ones in the hospital with us, helped us avoid the "Why Me?" quagmire of narcissistic misery. Listening to what others are going through can do wonders to put things in perspective.

It's Only Temporary
No matter how bad things get, nothing on this earth lasts forever. Everything we experience here is only temporary. Tomorrow, today will be gone, never to return. Houses and health, work and wealth, can all vanish in a moment. No one is entitled to a crisis-free life. The good news is that crises can't last indefinitely. Eventually, "this, too, shall pass."

Until it does, wishing you all the best as you make your way through whatever life has thrown at you.

Thanks Giving

Thanks for alarm clocks that go off when it's still dark outside.

Thanks for a comfy bed, fuzzy slippers, fresh sheets, soft pillows.

Thanks for the child in the next room that makes me crawl out of bed and get going in the morning so she can get to school on time.

Thanks that she has a school to attend. Thanks for dedicated teachers and for the education she's receiving. Thanks for the information she has access to. Thanks for the students in her class. Thanks for her friends who are teaching her about whispering and passing notes and sharing private jokes. And thanks for those who are not her friends, teaching her valuable skills for dealing with difficult people.

Thanks that every morning she must make a decision on which clothes to wear. Thanks that she must decide if she's going to wear her boots or her shoes and must choose which coat is the right one for the day. Many children are not so fortunate to have multiple warm coats to choose from. I am thankful she is not one of them.

Thanks for the snow, blanketing everything in white. Because of it, in six months, I'll be more thankful for the warmth of summer than I would be if I had that warmth all the time.

Thanks for the dogs. And the cats. The chickens. And the ducks. Thanks for the horses. Thanks that I have to do chores, even early in the morning. Thanks-thanks-thanks for electricity and running water, both in the barn and in the house.

Thanks for the smell of coffee. Fresh eggs. Homemade bread. Real butter.

Thanks for good friends who, when they're sick, call and ask me to take their kids to school, knowing that when the situation is reversed -- and it will be, one day -- they will repay the favor. Thanks for kindred spirits.

Thanks for my family. And special thanks for my husband, the love of my life.

Thanks for the wind blasting up from the bluff. Without it, I wouldn't be nearly as grateful for the heat inside.

Did I mention the coffee? Thanks.

Thanks for drive throughs. Thanks for the girl at the cafe who takes longer than usual to get my order. If I hadn't been waiting for her, I wouldn't have fiddled with the radio and stumbled across a new station playing an old favorite song -- that now runs through my head on infinite repeat, an anthem of praise providing a soundtrack of thanks for the rest of my day.

Thanks that I have enough cash to pay for my morning coffee. Thanks that I don't have enough to buy both coffee and a scone; this ensures that I will savor every drop.

Thanks for gravity keeping me grounded. Thanks that I dropped my change on the ground when paying for my order. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have discovered that someone else dropped their change and neglected to pick it up. Thanks for unexpected windfalls; blessings in disguise.

Thanks for the scone. It was delicious.

Thanks for medical scans. Thanks for modern technology that alerts us when there may be a problem with the health of those we love.

Thanks for the awareness that modern technology is not God; it cannot fix all of our problems.

Thanks for the chance to lift my eyes, looking beyond myself, higher than the clouds, higher than the sky higher than my hopes, higher than my dreams, higher than anyone can possibly imagine. Higher than I am. Higher than I can become...

Thanks for the thought that there is something higher than all of us, looking at me, accepting my thanks, hearing me when I cry out and ask "Why?" and "When?" and "How long?" and "How soon?" ... Something that hears me when I say--

Thanks.

Thanksgiving Thoughts on Roald Dahl's "Television" Poem

As we drove through town this Thanksgiving day, on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house, my daughter noticed the stanchions in front of Wal-Mart and Best Buy and other stores, awaiting the ravening hordes that will be pushing and shoving each other in a few hours. 

"Why would people let themselves be herded like cattle just to buy a few things?" she asked. 

"Flat screen TV's are on sale," I said. "Wouldn't getting one cheap make you want to stand outside in sub-zero temperatures and trample others underfoot?"

She caught my eye in the rear-view mirror. "Sarcasm?"

"You think?"

 

On the way to the grandparents', we listened to an audiobook of Roald Dahl's 1964 classic "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," which features Dahl's awesome "Television" poem. The fact that it's rather preachy doesn't make it any less relevant... 

Television

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.

In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.

(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit 
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.

Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?

IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!

'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'

We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more.

Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!

Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)

The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-

Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.

Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.

And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

***

At the end of the poem -- before Charlie and his Grandpa Joe rode the glass elevator "up and out" -- my 10-year old said "I've read all those books and know all those characters they mention." You should have seen the look of abject horror on her face when she followed up with, "You mean some kids haven't?!"

A Writer's Thanksgiving Prayer

Dear Lord,

I know You probably think this is going to be yet another prayer asking for an agent – much like most of my earlyteen conversations with You involved fervent pleas that You send me a horse -- but it’s not.

For one thing, we’ve covered the agent issue enough lately that I am confident it remains foremost in my file.

For another, it’s Thanksgiving. I just wanted to take some time to say “Thank You.”

I give thanks that people like Sooki and Kim Kardashian have book deals. Every time I start to get discouraged and suspect that that perhaps my writing isn’t good enough to get published, You have provided shining beacons to remind me that many publishers truly don’t care about the quality of the written words they put into print.

I thank You for the Buffy reboot. (Though someone must have made a deal with You-Know-Who to cut Joss Whedon out of the action.) And for the Superman reboot. Every time I come to You asking for new inspiration, simply point me toward these testaments that the industry isn’t looking for something new.

Thank You for giving me friends and family who literally could not care less about what I write. I don’t think any of them have read the book I had published this year – and that’s ok. They’re not horse trainers. They’re not the target audience. They make me realize that there is more to life than just work.

Thank You, too, for my clients and friends in the film and publishing industry. For they do care about my career. They continue to challenge and encourage me. I know while You were here, You had a few close friends who cared about what You were trying to do. I’m eternally grateful for the pros You’ve introduced to me. We all support each other as we continue onward and upward. It’s a blessing to know that I’m not in this alone.

Thank You that though I have yet to make the New York Times bestseller list, I will still be able to put more food on my table tomorrow than many people on this planet will see in a month. I may sound glib, but I’m not. I am deeply, profoundly grateful to be able to feed not only my family but also the friends who will share Thanksgiving with us.

I cannot thank You enough that I don't have to fly this holiday season. Getting groped and scanned by gruff, irritable people always puts me a little off my thankfulness game.

(I'm not presuming to tell You how to do Your job, but here's a thought: inspire someone with clout to mandate that all our elected officials undergo the same TSA screening as those of us who voted them into office. I bet that would instigate some changes that would make many travelers sing Your praises.)

I am exceedingly thankful that I live in a country that still lets me talk to You -- or not -- on my own terms.

I’m also thankful that the furnace and electricity works, the car runs, and we’re all relatively healthy. I realize that some of the things I regularly complain about others would welcome as a blessing.



Finally, I thank You that I was not born a turkey. Seriously. I’m grateful.

Thank You for hearing my prayer and for blessing me and my family through this past year. Special thanks for eventually granting my horse request. Now, about that agent...