So, I spent a better part of the weekend browsing through my first couple years of blog posts and comments for a little (big) project I’m working on (Zoo Book-related). Goodness, I used to be a lot funnier.

Case in point. This blog entry from four years ago today–April 26, 2006.

I’m one of THOSE mothers…

I used to roll my eyes at those parents who would watch their little kids up on stage at church (during a Christmas program or what have you) and just be BEAMING for no apparent reason. Their child was doing nothing special. Just standing there. Maybe mouthing the words. More than likely staring off into space or twiddling his thumbs. They’d have their camera and video camera, snapping photos left and right, WAVING to their child from their pew. Yes, WAVING. Grinning to beat the band, proud as a peacock, oblivious to the world around them. All that mattered was their child–the STAR. Make me puke.

Okay, fast forward to Livi’s first year of Cubbies (AWANA club at church). April 2004. Cubbies award program. My little baby, MY LITTLE BABY, up on the stage! Oh, I could hardly believe it. She was so BIG. And so fabulous. And such a STAR. I know we took pictures, maybe video, I can’t remember.

I DO remember her PICKING HER NOSE on stage.

Fast forward some more to April 26th, 2006. Livi has her final Cubbies awards program before she graduates to Sparkies, and AVA makes her stage debut. They were sooo excited, especially Ava.

I don’t know what happened to me. I’m usually fairly reserved at times like these. But tonight I was shameless. Gabe had the video camera, I had the digital camera. I WAVED at my babies from my pew. I was BEAMING. The lighting was terrible, and the pictures I was taking weren’t turning out. “I’m going to the front,” I said, climbing over Gabe and making my way around the auditorium in my loud flipflops, kneeling by the front pew, thanking the Lord that I wore a long tank under my shirt, because the only pair of jeans I can fit in right now SHOW MY CRACK whenever I bend over. Met my friend Cami on my way up. “Let’s GO!” I told her. “We’ll be those crazy parents who just don’t know where to draw the line!”

My camera still wasn’t working. “Take pictures of my babies for me!” I hissed at Cami, who is a professional photographer.

Ava was grinning from ear to ear, twiddling with her skirt. Twiddling, twiddling, lifting, lifting, SHOWING THE WORLD HER BRIGHT BLUE CINDERELLA PANTIES! I still beamed.

They sang two songs, got a ribbon, and clamored off the stage.

My daughters, THE STARS.

I do have fabulous news. After much time in prayer and some I-really-truly-mean-it surrender, I’m back in a writing groove. If you couldn’t tell, it’s been a looooong time. I’ll explain more later, but just to give you a heads-up, I’m formulating a little survey (for any and all interested parties) concerning your thoughts and feelings about the internet and the friendships/connections you’ve made online. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.

Until then, here’s a Question for you–When did you start blogging, why did you start blogging and (in 10 words or less) what do you blog about?

Happy, happy Monday!!

p.s. Gabe installed a funky little “Like” button on my blog. If you like a certain post, you can click on the button, and it will post it to your facebook wall. Crazy, huh? If you want one for your own blog, check out his “simple” instructions here.

As a writer who’s been slapping words down on paper since I could hold a pencil in my plump little fingers, I have scads and scads of sentences and paragraphs–even whole chapters–written that have no place to call home.

The book I started writing on jealousy and insecurity. The one about in-laws. The ones on Bible prophecy, dandelions, and the messy business of motherhood.

The companion book to mine that I want my husband to write: She Thinks That’s All You Think About.

Then there are all the scribbled quotes and thoughts and crazy notions and flashes of brilliance that I scrawled on scraps of this or that before they disappeared into the Abyss of Fabulous Ideas That You Get at the Most Inopportune Times (like when you’re driving on the interstate or standing in the shower) So Nothing Ever Comes of Them.

I’m not naive enough to think that all of my words are destined for publication someday. Goodness knows I’d be happy if a publisher said yes to just one more book. Period. But I’ve been thinking lately that God might have a plan for a lot of those words I worked so hard to piece together.

I’ve been flipping through old journals and notebooks lately (with bits of scrap paper flying everywhere), and sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised by what I discover. Something I wrote in 1999 that fits perfectly with a talk I’m giving in 2010. Something I recorded in 2002 that I can slip neatly into my current book project.

A few years ago my sister looked through her old journals and copied all the parts where she talked about what she wanted in a husband someday–and gave it to her groom on their honeymoon.

My mom e-mails snippets from her 90 (!!) journals to my girls about their early months and years of life. They love it.

I have hundreds of old letters and some old journals written by precious people in my family (including my Great-Aunt Leona’s Elite Trip Abroad Book from 1949), and I’ve been discovering ways to pass on some of those long-ago penned words to bless various folks.

All that journaling I did for three months while I student taught in Okinawa, Japan? Maybe it wasn’t good enough for a traditional publisher, but my self-published memoir has touched a lot of people over the past 10 years.

My first NaNoWriMo novel? Again, not Barnes & Noble material, but God is helping me use it to raise money for missions.

I’m hoping to carve out a day to myself sometime soon, and I’m going to sift through desk drawers and folders and notebooks and computer files and ask God to show me what He might want to do with some of those million+ words.

God is the consummate recycler, renewer, resurrector. Taking stuff (read: people) that everyone else thinks is worthless and making it like new again, using it for a brand new purpose. Everything He created is good, and He’s not about to let it go to waste.

I know I’m not God, and my words aren’t people. I also know I can’t take every word I’ve ever written and make something fabulous out of it. Some might serve no higher purpose than to show me how far I’ve come in 20 years. Some might show me that I’m still struggling with the same stinking things, darn it. Some I might gently kiss good-bye and toss in the trash (er, recycle bin I mean, Ali, my sweet green friend).

But some of them might find their way to somewhere special where they will somehow, someway, someday bless someone’s life and draw them closer to the God I love. Ooh, I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it!

Do you have any words stuffed away that could be resurrected, recreated, recycled? Any plans to give them new life any time soon?

p.s. I’m guest-posting today over at a very special gal’s blog. I’d go nuts if you’d pop over and say hi to me there! Stay tuned tomorrow for a riveting post on monochromatic books!

The Worlds Apart Project is LIVE! I’m so excited about this, friends! Thank you, Jesus!

Need a little refresher? Back on November 1, I decided to try this crazy thing called NaNoWriMo. Thirty days later, I had myself a 50,000-word novel. I knew I didn’t want to pursue publication (for one thing, it’d be an insult to real fiction writers who’ve worked for years on their craft).

Then I got the idea–why not sell my “novel” to raise $ for the kiddos (orphans and girls sold in the sex trade) that my friend Jen works with in Cambodia? My unbelievably talented husband created a website for me (in 2 days), hooked me up with a company that helps you sell e-books, and we’re ready to go!

You can find out all this info and more on the site, but I decided on a pricetag of $8. Half of that $8 (so $4) will go directly to Jen in Cambodia to buy food and supplies for the kiddos she helps. The other $4 ($3.25) will go to Paypal fees, Payloadz fees (the company I’m using to distribute the e-book), and website hosting fees. The 75 cents left over? Pei Wei Fund (for hungry, but not starving, children at the Taviano House).

Here’s the deal. You have two choices:

1. You can read the book a little bit at a time for the next 10 months (a new installment will post every 1-3 days). This is totally free.

2. Or you can buy it now and read it all at once.

I’d love to hear your feedback on the project. But if you would, go easy on me for the time being. I’m in a tender spot right now (mostly because of Miss Faith). To use an American Idol analogy, if you’ve got an Ellen comment, I’m all ears. If you’re feeling Simon-ish (truthful but painful), just hold that thought for a week or so. Thanks!

Have an AWESOME weekend, friends. And please, please keep praying for Faith!

p.s. Would the darling person who sent me the gorgeous giraffe-print tunic and Scrabble letters and lip gloss please speak up? (I know you probably won’t, but it’s worth a try.) You rocked my world today, friend! Bless you!

So, I’m reading through my “novel” for the first time, and my initial edits are going swimmingly.

“Why do you put ‘novel’ in quotation marks?” you ask. Good question! Because I’ve read enough real novels in my day to refrain from lumping my first stab at fiction in with the published novels that grace library and bookstore shelves around the globe.

The day an honest-to-goodness publisher pays me money for a work of fiction (a made-up story, as opposed to my other books which are true) will be the day I call myself a novelist.

Anyway.

I mentioned yesterday that one of the main themes of the “novel” is in-laws. Without giving too much away, there’s a part of the book where I explore a little dilemma I like to call What in the World Am I Supposed to Call My In-Laws?

Have you experienced this?

For whatever reason, I have always been very, very intrigued by the names people use to refer to their in-laws (both to their face and when speaking about them to others). And on a related note, how they arrived at their decision.

Do you call your husband’s parents Mom and Dad? Mr. and Mrs.? Richard and Becky? Hey you?

And what about your husband? What does he call your parents? And are both parties okay with it?

Quite a few years ago, I asked friends, family, blog readers, complete strangers to fill out an in-law survey. I asked the “What do you call them?” question, and the (extremely varied) answers had me rolling. Rolling.

(Speaking of those surveys, if you filled one out, chances are you’ll be making an anonymous cameo appearance in my “novel.” Oh, yes.)

And you didn’t ask, but I call Gabe’s parents Rock and Janelle (their first names). It was his mom’s idea. And everybody’s happy with it. And yes, Rock is his dad’s given name.

For the longest time, he didn’t really call mine anything. Then my brother-in-law, Stewart, came up with something brilliant that changed everyone’s lives forever. Bethany, don’t ruin it! It’ll be in the book!

So, tell me:

If you’re married, what do you call your in-laws? What does your husband call his? How does everybody feel about the arrangement?

If you’re not married, but hope to be someday, play pretend. Ideally, what would you call your in-laws? What would your hubby call your folks?

I’m dying to know. (and I just may throw some of your answers into my “novel” just for fun!)

p.s. Thank you SO much for your awesome responses to yesterday’s post! Y’all are the sweetest, most giving people EVER. I’ve boxed up a ton of Blushing Bride books, and I don’t want to stop. Let me know if you want some! Details here. I’ll talk more about all the giving opportunities next week! Have a wonderful weekend!

I’m gonna warn you from the get-go: I’ve got nothin’ tonight. Writer’s Block with a capital WB. I’m hoping I’ll warm up as I go.

So, you know how I participated in National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo) this November? Well. I finished. Excuse me, I WON. (That’s the proper NaNo slang for getting to 50,000 words by midnight on November 30. Anybody can win.)

And you know what? It really wasn’t all that hard. And do you know what that statement says about me? My novel is probably a piece of trash. Because GOOD writing? Does not generally come so easy.

On second thought, it WAS hard. Here’s what I thought was hardest:

1. coming up with plot ideas and not resolving them instantly, no matter how hard I wanted to.

2. writing an average of 1,667 words a day, even when I didn’t feel like it.

3. writing a story from beginning to end (I have never, ever done this before).

4. not going back one single time to edit anything.

5. making it realistic but not boring.

I’m going to let the little booger sit for awhile. Then sometime in January, I might get it out, read it (I’ve never even read it!), edit and revise it, and then… I’m not dumb enough to think it’s something a publisher would want to look at. My sweet agent would probably raise her eyebrow at me if I even hinted at it. This thing was just me dipping my toes in fiction writing to see if it’s something I’d like to study/learn/pursue.

I’m not sure it is.

I’m definitely not a natural at it. The whole plot thing? Ack. Now, dialogue? That’s another thing altogether. People talking to each other? I’m all over that. If I could write a book that was 100% dialogue (or a book of letters!), I might give it a whirl.

If I were on stage accepting an award right now for “winning” NaNoWriMo, I’d have to thank my husband first. That dude got so into my book. He wanted to help me invent characters and plot twists. He gave me ideas and mapped out a time line. He even made a map of the world (one of my characters lives in Ohio and one in Cambodia–original, I know).

Speaking of original, most of my characters and plot were modeled after someone/some experience I’m familiar with. Apparently, I’m lacking in the imagination department. Because much of the story takes place in Cambodia–in an orphanage even–I’m thinking of ways I could use the “book” to help raise money for the missionary (love you, Jen!) and kiddos our church supports over there.

Gabe and I have tossed around the idea of making a website for the “book.” (And yes, I’m going to keep writing the word “book” in quotations.) Like, start in February and post a page of the book each day. And if you just can’t wait (ha!) a whole year to finish the book, you can make a donation to the Coins for Cambodia Fund, and I’ll send you the whole manuscript.

You like-a?

If you’ve ever considered writing a novel, I highly recommend NaNoWriMo as a great place to start. There’s no pressure. You can write 50,000 words of pure waste, and you still win. No one sees your novel. It doesn’t matter how awful it is. You just write and write and write. And worry about making it good later. Or never.

Can you see yourself writing a novel someday?