Pen in Motion

Favorite quotes from Archipelago by David Jacobsen

“I believe that every time I put a word down with the intention of making something to last, whether a story or novel or essay, I am inside a moment in which I better be attempting to wrestle with a matter of life and death.”

“I believe even the sheer act of writing is a matter of life and death, that if I am not here in my place and writing, that I am not seeking with the means I have been given – an ability with the written word – to find meaning that will matter.”

“…where I am sitting when I write is the sacred beginning of any attempt to make concrete via words those matters of life and death the worlds inside my own books seek to explore.”

“…I want to remember why I am here, and why this whole writing thing deserves my deepest attention, and my innermost focus.”

“Words and what they can do are important, because in the beginning was the Word.”

——————-

I am finding my place again and remembering the importance of being where I am now, writing and creating and telling the story that I was born to tell.

And when I am not writing, not working on the story, I am away from the world I have fallen in love with and I miss it. I miss her, my sweet Jaelith, and I am only biding my time until I can return to a world as real as the place where I live and breathe. I like to think that she also misses my company – that they all miss me and will not continue with their lives until I am back and in my place.

Find your place, wherever it is and whatever you are meant to do. Find your place and refuse to be moved from it.

Naps can be tricky. Sometimes they help because they allow the body and rest and rejuvenate, and sometimes they just make you groggy and lethargic for the rest of the day/evening. And sometimes, they help wake you up.

I live in the Houston area, and most of the country has probably heard something about Hurricane Harvey. I was blessed to not have been one of the thousands of people who was flooded, and I have spent the past several days volunteering at my church and helping provide supplies and hot meals to people affected by the storm.

Yay volunteering, yes? Sure. As can be expected, there was so much work to do and not ever enough people to do it. And the lunch/dinner times were completely hectic. And I ended up physical and mentally exhausted and stressed, and most of the stress was my doing because I let all of the little things that happened become personal.

And while helping out is a great thing, I put aside work important to me and forgot everything else so I could wear myself out several hours a day and several days in a row. Basically, I got lost.

This evening, as I was attempting to return to the church to help with dinner, my body changed my plans and demanded rest – i.e. I almost fell asleep in the drive-thru at McDonald’s. So I went home and napped. And almost 3 hours later, I woke up. A lot.

Maybe the book I am writing isn’t important to anyone else, but it’s important to me. Maybe it seems more worthwhile to throw all of my time into volunteering, because it’s just this writing thing I do, right? (I do also work as a writer and am paid for it).

I’ve been thinking a lot about the story of Martha in the bible, when she complained to Jesus about her sister not helping her. I was looking at that story from one particular perspective (because I am absolutely a Martha), but I suddenly see it differently. She was so lost in the stress of the work at hand that she forgot to balance herself. She forgot to stop and enjoy her guest and dear friend. I lost my balance, and my nap was the thing I needed to wake up and remember that.

Moral? Naps can be good.  And don’t lose balance – everything should have a place in your time table.

For all of my non-girly ways (no heels, little make-up, sci-fi fan, sarcasm aficionado), I still enjoy looking at pretty dresses. Pick an awards show and I used to watch it just to see the dresses. And then I would buy the magazines to look at pages filled with more pretty dresses.

This may not be good to admit, but I pretty much ignore anything to do with the Cannes Film Festival, with the exception of the dress pictures. I may not be overly young (I’m closer to 40 than 35), but I am up on current fashion trends – even if I don’t get them – and I am not shocked by the show of skin. That being said, I was fairly surprised at the dresses I was seeing at Cannes – almost everything was sheer. And a lot of models. I had flipped through more than 30 pictures before I came upon an actual actress.

Back to the dresses: I couldn’t help but feel a little sad and disappointed. What has happened to fashion that sheer dresses over body suits is considered tasteful and glamorous? It’s somewhat reminiscent of the tale of Emperor’s new clothes, but this time around it’s well-known designers trying to convince us that there really is a beautiful dress worth seeing and remembering. Again, showing skin doesn’t shock me. One of my favorite Oscar dresses is Halle Berry’s Elle Saab and it was essentially a sheer bodice with strategically placed embroidered roses. What is the difference in that dress and almost every dress that some model named Bella wore (sheer, split nearly to her waist, backless, or all of the above)? Subtlety and illusion. The idea of “sexy” is no longer left to the imagination, but put on display for all to see – nude panties, nipples, and all.

When did NOT showing your underwear and breasts stop being fashionable? I am probably way behind the times on this rant/concern/diatribe. It’s sad to think that the idea of modesty has been reduced to actually wearing underwear beneath the sheer dress and using pasties. Bella the model (as I will now always call her) told a reporter that she is usually demure on the red carpet; the article then proceeded to show off several dresses from Cannes that the model donned – every single dress was sheer. She attended an after-party in a short black mini dress with black tape (?) over her nipples. Thanks Bella…super classy of you.

I remember a guy friend of mine once telling me about some lingerie he purchased for his girlfriend. It was a black sheer teddy that was cupless, backless, and crotchless. It cost him $65 and he was really proud of it. My response? Just buy her a few feet of black chiffon and tie it around her waist. Boom – another dress for Bella the model.

I was recently introduced to “Game of Thrones” – I am quite late to this party, but I suppose “better late than never” still applies. My reaction to the first episode: “Wow.”

I have repeated that sentiment often throughout the past three seasons. “Game of Thrones” is a show that flaunts the true selfishness of human behavior. Nearly every character is guilty at some point of acting/reacting with only their interests in mind. But just as the author enjoys showcasing such horrible behavior, he is also clearly a fan of demonstrating the cycle of karma. As I complained repeatedly about how horrible Dany’s brother was, my friend simply responded with “Comeuppance.”  And wow, did he ever get some comeuppance. Martin definitely knows how to deliver Karma’s defining judgment.

And this leads me to Theon Greyjoy. Poor Theon – though technically a prisoner of the Starks, he grew up in better conditions and with a more loving family than his own. He refused to let go of his bloated sense of entitlement. Theon wanted power and respect, but the lesson he never learned from Ned Stark was the power of humility and integrity. His initial intentions for be allowed to visit his father were honorable – get ships to help Robb Stark in his fight against the Lannisters. But, like most of us, Theon craved acceptable and respect. He did not recognize that he already had both with the Stark family, but he quickly chose to betray Robb in order to win his father’s approval. That’s bad enough, but Theon took it a step further and attacked the Stark home (and Northern capital) of Winterfell. He even went so far as to fake the death of Robb’s two younger brothers in a desperate attempt to prove he was something that he wasn’t – a leader.

Theon’s reign doesn’t last and he soon finds himself captured and tortured by the son of a Northern ally. Comeuppance, right? Yay karma. Except Theon comes to himself during a brief respite from the torture and confesses to the man he thinks is a friend that he made the wrong choice to betray the Starks. Theon sadly muses that his true father lost his head at King’s Landing (Ned Stark). Theon doesn’t die, but he does endure more torture from the sadistic son, including being disfigured.

Whether we want to admit it or not, most of us can relate to Theon on some level. Do we have that person/persons in our life who we greatly desire acceptance from? Does it haunt us and blind us from seeing the people in our life who already love us just as we are? Have we ever shirked a friend because our new friend or boyfriend/girlfriend doesn’t like that person? I have been on both sides of that – I have shied away from people because my significant other preferred so, and I have been betrayed because my friend believed her boyfriend over me. Does she deserve some kind of comeuppance for that? Do I deserve the same for my actions? The answer to both is yes. Yes, we do. But what if we were granted mercy? What if we granted mercy to those who hurt us?

Mercy is not a virtue that makes many appearances on “Game of Thrones.” People are either too selfish or too righteous, but the “right thing” isn’t always the right thing to do. Ned Stark should know that better than anyone. Sometimes people need mercy.

I haven’t posted in a while – I have been so busy with life that I forgot to write about it.

I don’t even know where to begin, but it’s best to not attempt to summarize the past. So  much has happened, and also not happened.

The relationship that I thought would be my last didn’t last. I don’t like to think that I am on any kind of quest for love because I am beginning to understand it to be more of a quest “to be loved,” and am already quite loved by the people who have always loved me. And even the relationship didn’t last actually did, but not in the same way. I found a true soul mate and he is my best friend, but we don’t know how to do the romantic part very well. Or maybe I didn’t know how to do it well. But he is still in my life and still the person who knows me better than I know myself – he just isn’t my romantic partner anymore. But does he love me? Absolutely. And I think it’s stronger than when we thought we were going to live happily ever after. Actually we are living happily – as friends.

I published a collection of poetry last May (Pen in Motion on Amazon.com) and I am elated that I finally did the thing I have long wanted to do. And when I finally held the book in my hands and saw my work in print, I don’t think I cried…but I smiled and laughed. I might have cried a little later. Sometimes it still feels surreal that it even happened, but then I look at the copy sitting on my desk and I remember that it is truly real.

I finished my MFA program (!!) And more exciting than this, I finally began writing the story of Jaelith…the beautiful and fierce warrior character I created over 15 years ago. I have been trying to write her story since her inception, and now it is happening. The book began as my thesis project, and I am continuing the work. It is finally real and I grow all the more excited with every sentence I write.

And now I have returned here, and it feels so good.

Writing has always been this wonderful, beautiful, exhilarating, and somewhat scary process for me. The excitement and terror of that first blank page – what is meant to go here? What story will unfold? Much like taking a journey down a new road at night with a blindfold, I rarely have much of an idea of where I am going when I begin to write. That is part of the exciting process, but it’s also a little daunting. What if I get lost? Or worse – what if what I write isn’t good?

The latter questions bothers me more than anything. I love to write. I love to create, and I love do it with words. But I want what I make to be good, which is how it’s supposed to be. We were made to want to make, to want to create. And we were made to want to look at our creation and say “this is good.” I can still remember remnants of a Dorothy Sayers article/book chapter called “Why Work?” in which she makes the same declaration. The desire to create is in all of us, and it surfaces in different ways. For some, it’s in music or art. For others, it’s in business. But if you look at the foundation of the artist and the corporate giant, you will likely find a similar root – the yearn to make something and say “it’s good.”

My art, my creation is with words. Whether it’s poetry or fiction (or this post), what I write is of high value to me. It’s precious because I made it. It’s my precious. (yeah, I went there) I should love it more than I fear it. And really, I shouldn’t fear it at all. What am I afraid of anyway? I have read a lot of books on writing in the recent years, and one of the most endearing nuggets of advice is this – write what you love. And I might add, write how you love. I write because I love – the words, the world, myself, my craft, my creation. I love and that makes my creation good because it has truly been “made with love.”

There is a movie that I remember watching with my mother and sister many years ago…I want to say “Ben-Hur.” Well I do not remember much of the movie, but rather a scene in that movie where the insane Roman emperor Nero makes a demand of his wife: “I command you to stop loving me!” Somehow that hit our funny bone – probably just the sheer lunacy of the statement. But to this day, we will crack a smile if one of us blurts out that line.

I can recall an experience in 2010 where I found myself grappling with a particularly frustrating love challenge – someone, who by her actions and words, seemed to be commanding me to not love her. And after a few months of her negative treatment, I was more than willing to grant her wish. What made the situation even more frustrating was that I had not done anything to this woman – absolutely nothing to deserve her furor. It was unfair and unjust, and I wanted some kind of justification.

I am not a mean-spirited person, but I quickly found myself rejoicing every time she messed up at work. Part of the problem was that this person’s actions began to remind me of another person who hurt me badly several months prior. I suddenly found myself greatly desiring vengeance on both of them. I wanted to hurt the just as much (if not more) as they hurt me. Even more, I wanted them humiliated in front of their peers.

They are both demanding that I not love them, and I made myself miserable trying to do just that – to the extent of actually dreaming about confronting the woman and getting her fired.

But then I finally stopped my plotting long enough to hear God. He knew the situation was unfair – He saw every “dagger” look she gave me, and He heard everything she said against me and my (now) ex-husband (she was his employee). But regardless of what she was doing, He still loved her. And because He loved her, I had to decline her demand and also love her. I also had to love the other person – a fete I found much more difficult.

There are going to be other people in my life who demand that I not love them, but their petition will always be outweighed by God’s command that we love because Christ first loved us (I John 4:19).

 “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things. Love never fails.”

In the days leading up to Valentine’s Day last year, the local radio stations began playing a bevy of love/romance-themed songs. One song that I heard with increasing frequency was the recently released “Say Something,” which featured vocals by Christina Aguilera. With its slow, haunting melody and lyrics, I could see why people would see this as a romantic song. Except that it’s not. The more I heard the song, the more I heard the lyrics – “say something; I’m giving up on you.” During the most romantic times of the year and one of the most popular songs on the radio is about a love that fails.

The theme behind “Say Something” actually fits the description for how many people see themselves – as too much to handle, a burden on loved ones. I once felt this way too, and I had actually built up a rather romantic idea around the belief that I was too flawed to ever completely love. “Say Something” gives us the kind of warped, flawed love that the world is so accustomed to wallowing in, which is “I’ve reached the end of my rope and I have nothing left, so I’m letting go. “

When the Apostle Paul expounds on and explains true love/God’s love in I Corinthians 13, he summarizes his definition with three words – “Love never fails.” While carnal love can (and will) stop, break up, pull away, and give up, God’s love does not. It does not ever stop or give up. The Amplified Bible says that “Love never fails (fades out, comes to and an end, or becomes obsolete).” What moved me out of my twisted fantasy was love. I finally began to understand the greatness of God’s love. In Romans 8:38-39 Paul extols the promise that we can never be taken away from the unchanging, boundless, all-encompassing love of God: “For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, no principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God.”

I am not a burden, and there are not any flaws in me – not in God’s eyes. To Him, I am perfect and beautiful and covered in His love. And because I am filled with love, I can love others with the same force that God loves me. I don’t ever have to tell someone that I am giving up on them because the power to love comes from God and He never gives up.

The next time you are thinking of romantic songs, remember that one of the truly more romantic tunes begins like this: “Jesus loves me, this I know…”

August 2008 was a life-altering month for me – I enrolled in classes for the first time in ten years. My last experience with college had been at Baylor in 1998 and I was not a very good steward of time or money back then.

I used to joke that I was enrolled at Baylor…didn’t attend, was just enrolled. It seemed less shameful when I was laughing about it. I had turned down an athletic scholarship at the end of my senior year in high school because of fear. That and a boy that turned out to not even like me. I also turned down a scholarship to my mother’s alma mater ORU. AND I squandered two years of free tuition from the state of Texas to any public college or university…this was for being the valedictorian of my high school class. There was so much hope placed before me and I was too selfish and afraid to step out and take it.

Fast forward about ten years – I was thirty years old and going back to school. I had an epiphany in July that if I did not get back in school then, I would be 39 going on 40 and wishing I had done something sooner. I chose to be an English major and re-entered school at a local junior college.

You know what I discovered? For one, I LOVED SCHOOL. I must sound like such a geek/nerd/something for saying that, but my first semester back in school was amazing for me.

I determined to myself before stepping onto that campus that I would not waste any more time or money. I gave myself two goals – (1) to maintain a 4.0 and (2) to graduate summa cum laude. God, as He always does, showed Himself faithful. I never doubted that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I learned a lot more than I thought I would in my Creative Writing class, and I finished my first semester with a 4.0 GPA! I would go on to graduate in 2013 with a BA in writing and a (still) decent 3.9 GPA. I did reach my second goal – I graduated summa cum laude!

I lost so much ground before 2008, but I have realized that it is pointless to dwell on the past. What matters now is that I will not lose any more ground. Last October (2014), I began the first quarter of a graduate writing program to earn a Master of Fine Arts degree in creative writing.

My biggest lesson to learn with/about/concerning God has been that I have to trust Him. Refusing to fully trust was keeping my Father from being able to move in my life. I trust that God can, according to His Word, redeem the time that I threw away. I trust that He will continue to provide for my needs, and then some. And I trust that He will not allow me to be overtaken in any circumstance.

It is never too late to begin moving in the right direction. Even if it’s the last hour that you have on this earth, that is still sixty minutes that you can turn yourself around and head for the sun. You have all the time in the world.

Another poem from my class…

He turns,

wrapped in the wings

of a thousand crows –

angry, desolate,

and black as jagged onyx stones.

He is not Death,

even with those gaunt eyes

and sunken cheeks –

skin that used to know

what it felt like to have pigment.

And those fingers –

brittle and warped,

but still strong enough to strangle

hopes

             dreams

                             ambitions

                                                   futures.

Not quite Death –

Regret.