Okay. The title of a book is so incredibly important. It has to communicate something profound in just a few words. I had a ton of votes, but still can’t decide. I know it’s subjective, but I really need to decide on a title by THIS FRIDAY. We’re running out of time. I spent the whole weekend immersed in editing, and thought of a few new titles to throw out there. I took the highest scoring titles from last week and added the new ones. Pick your favorite! The one that speaks to you. The one that makes you say, “Wow. I want to read that book.” If you have strong feelings about one, leave a comment.

Yes, I know these are all over the place. Just go with your gut.

Okay, okay. Before you say anything, I know what you’re thinking. You haven’t blogged in over two months! Yes, it’s true. I committed one of the blogging world’s seven deadly sins. But in my defense, I will just say that I didn’t have any profound words to share. Every profound thought, sentence and word I had went straight into the current book I’m writing and I simply didn’t have the energy for more.

Part of the problem is that I never know what to blog about. Writing a novel is different because it’s so structured with the character arcs and the plot arc and the research. Believe it or not, writing a novel is so much easier than blogging. If I had a blog theme, that would help. Except I’m not sure what that theme would be. A lot of blogs offer advice or wisdom on certain topics, but I have decided that I am not at a place in my life where I can offer sound advice to anyone. Besides, the only advice I give or follow since becoming a parent can be summed up in these two words: whatever works. There are only so many ways one can say that.

The last two months, I’ve used the time I would have spent blogging to write my latest novel. And then something occurred to me. I’ve been struggling with some details, from the title of my book to character traits to setting details and on and on. Sometimes writing feels like solitary confinement. I always find myself thinking, I would give anything to have a room full of creative, opinionated people to brainstorm with. I need feedback. I love collaboration. Then it hit me. Why don’t I create a room full of people on the blog? I can ask poll questions, solicit feedback on characters and plot points and research, get reactions to certain scenes. Because, really, who doesn’t love sharing their opinion?

So that’s what I’m going to do on my blog posts. I’ll ask a question relating to my current work-in-progress, and I will count on you to help me shape the story. I’m hoping I’ll learn a lot from the feedback and discussions and make a lot of new friends in the process. A whole room full of creative and opinionated friends.

If you’re willing, I will post my first poll question below. Please choose your favorite title for my novel. If you have a better idea, post it in the comments. And if you want to share why you voted the way you did, please explain in the comments. I would love the feedback!

I will only give you a very basic idea of what the novel is about because I am most interested in your reaction to the title. So here is all you need to know in order to vote: the novel is about a woman who is lying about her identity for a good cause. It is mainly set in Aspen, Colorado, but also has scenes in Chicago and Paris.

Without further ado, here are the titles I have considered:

One of my greatest passions in life is story. I love hearing stories, I love watching stories unfold, I love telling stories. Stories have the power to encourage, enlighten and inspire us. They speak to the heart. That’s why I have devoted the last ten years of my life to learning how to tell stories, first in journalism school, then through a career in marketing/PR (that’s all branding is…telling the organization’s story), and now through writing. Even with all of my professional experience and my addiction to books, I still have so much to learn about how to tell a great story.

In preparation for a possible ghostwriting project, I am rereading my favorite memoir of all time: The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. There are a number of reasons why this is my favorite memoir, and since I started rereading it (for the third time), I have studied what makes the author’s storytelling technique so effective. Here is what I am learning from Walls about how to tell a great story:

• Learn how to delve into the full range of human emotions. The best stories make you laugh and cry and get angry. They are desperately sad, but at the same time redemptive. There is an emotional depth in the writing that elicits a response from the reader. While reading The Glass Castle, I have gotten seriously angry with Walls' parents, but they have also made me laugh. I have teared up at the bonds between the siblings, the way they fight for each other and stick together. There is great balance in what could have been written as a tragic story. The moments of comic relief and the universal truths give the story a redemptive quality that leaves the reader feeling both hopeful and inspired.
• Learn how to share truth, but never try to tell the reader what to do with it. I naturally gravitate toward books that make you think about truth, but if they ever feel preachy, or try to tell me how I should interpret the truth, I will instantly put them down. I can’t stand it when an author uses a story to guilt people into going to church or into to stopping a certain behavior. A story will never change someone’s heart or behavior. It can only challenge them to think. What they do with the truth is up to them. That is another thing I love about The Glass Castle. Walls doesn’t use her story as a soapbox or a crusade to end child neglect. She doesn’t rail against a system or write from a victim’s point of view. She simply shares her story as she lived it, and that in itself challenges you to consider the deeper issues of poverty and alcoholism and child abuse and neglect.
• Learn how to be honest. Good storytelling is always honest, whether it’s fiction or nonfiction. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for Jeannette Walls to write that book. It had to be deeply painful. Not only because she likely had to relive many of those memories, but also because she deeply loves the characters in the story. They are her family, and she took a great risk revealing their secrets to the world. Honesty often costs something. Even for a fiction writer, sometimes you have to relive painful experiences in order to bring truth and life to the page. Story is most often based on experience, maybe not in the action of the story, but definitely in the characters and in the true heart behind the story.

If you’ve read The Glass Castle, I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you haven’t, make sure you do! It’s an incredible example of skillful storytelling.

Before my youngest son forged his path out of diapers, I admit I didn’t really want to push him into potty training. I mean, he and I had a system down. Sure I found myself up to my elbows in mess sometimes. But at least I didn’t have to worry about accidents messing up his clothes. Or mine. Or car seats. Or furnishings. And how would I go through the hassle of training a little boy … on the toilet? The way I figured it, I had a pretty good thing going with diaper duty, so why change things?

My son, being a fully-reasoning and regularly-developing young man, finally took charge and decided to potty-train himself. Boy did he do a beautiful job of it—and, wow, he did it all in one day! It was miraculous and wonderful. So much easier than I expected. And you can bet I found a new lease on life unburdened by the 2-ton diaper bag and all its necessary trimmings. I felt ridiculous, really, when I thought back on how little I wanted to change my life before potty-training (Up to my armpits! In mess! What was I thinking?) especially when I compared it to how simply my life actually developed.

Change is often the most terrifying thing I, as a living, breathing human, can go through in life. Perhaps that’s because I really, really think I know what the future holds when I actually don’t.

I’ve come across many people lately struggling with my same kind of change-fears. One friend just completed her lifetime dream with a fanfare parade of congratulatory debt. Another lives day to day inside a dying marriage enveloped with anxiety about “forever”. Someone else is about to have her first child yet has no idea what happens once she gets home with her kid. And yet another will go back to work after years of mommyhood. What will the future hold for us?

Imaginations are powerful things. Mine can concoct sugar-coated houses…or blood-soaked chambers. But it certainly doesn’t predict the future. In fact, most of the time I’m flat-out wrong about my future’s outcome. And a lot of the time, I feel silly for having been frightened in the first place. 

The thing is, I constantly find that change indeed happens—whether I want it to or not. But my job in the midst of change is not to defy or fear it, but rather to take a step into it today—just today and only today. When dealing with grief or fear or any of the other residual emotions brought on by change, I’ve learned to close my eyes to the future and only look today in the face. Because I can deal with one day...or at least the next hour. It's that vacuous forever-sized Tomorrow that threatens to topple my world. 

With intentional present-mindedness, I've grown in my ability to face trials of change. Thankfully this also means I've found myself less often up to my elbows in mess!

I have a friend who’s had serious marital issues. After counseling, she received a few tips on polite habits she could develop in relating to her husband. They are simple things such as chatty small talk in the morning and discussing the day’s events over tea at night.

I wish I could tell you these techniques have been the key to a turnaround in the marriage, but instead it seems my friend’s husband watches her attempts with a suspicious eye. What if she’s just playing a game with him, and she pulls away the polite just when he started to believe in her? 

At what point do we decide protection of pride is worth more than dispensing love? I mean, really, how old are we when we decide not to get “duped” anymore?

As adults, we seem to pray with that same type of wary eye. What if we believe God is a certain way but then find out He never really cared about us in the first place? And what if we stake everything on Him only to find out in the end we were foolish romantics, betting our lives on a sappy story in which The Knight on a white horse actually wins the battle for His bride? How could we handle that kind of heartbreak?

To fully believe takes a massive amount of courage. We must tune our minds against the odds, against the white noise of other adults, against a culture so confident in a person of independence it laughs at those who depend. Faith is scary.

I think the scariest part for me is the fact that I hear this little whisper in the back of my mind when I attempt it. “You will probably play the fool on this one. You are childish to believe. Grow up, God doesn’t care about you.”

The thing is, Jesus tells me to look to children when I want to learn about powerful faith. Kids haven’t been jaded, yet. They still believe—with everything in them. No voices, no fear. And, you know what? They are right to do so. What father wouldn’t catch a son if he leaped to his arms with eyes closed in faith?

This week, I read the prayer of a young man that I wanted to pass on to you. His is the prayer and the faith that I want to learn from:

My 6th grade teacher … slipped on water and broke 1 of her wrists and   sprained the other. So I prayed for her, "Lord if there is anything that you can do for Mrs. Brown, could you please heal her as fast as possible. I love you Lord with all of my heart and please heal her." The principal said Mrs. Brown would probably not recover until the next week. But since I prayed to God, she healed one week earlier. PRAISE BE TO GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! --Parker, age 11

Do you see his love? His confidence? His willingness to risk his reputation on an assured faith in an omnipotent God? 45 exclamation points! I want that kind of excitement in my every day. I want that love and that kind of faith.

Teach me, God, to believe like a child today. Let me risk my heart to love You and others with everything in me. Squash the thing in me that fears getting duped because I know that is the lie, while You are the Truth.

Remember when you were little and you had all kinds of dreams about what you wanted to do one day?

What happened?

You grew up. Made other choices. Took a wrong turn.

Life happened.

Well, it's never too late to set a new course. Striving toward a dream can restore purpose to our days, especially if we allow the Lord to direct us. That doesn't mean the journey will be easy, of course. It's not always about the destination. The Lord may have much to teach us along the way.

A few weeks ago, my writing friend's husband called to tell me that his wife had been admitted to hospital and that the doctors weren't optimistic.

The cancer my friend Kate had been fighting for years seemed poised to deal its final blow. Friends and family trekked to the hospital. Prayer chains were activated. And God answered.

Kate's home today as I write this. Each breath is a struggle and her meds make her very sleepy. But she relishes each day the Lord gives her and she still dares to dream. 

You see Kate's been chasing the elusive dream of publication for years. She's done well in writing contests, most notably winning one that netted her a brand new Volkswagen Beetle. And she's a gifted editor. She can spot pacing and other story problems instantly and offer bang-on suggestions for fixing them. At least two published authors, myself included, credit Kate's insights with helping them break in.

Yet while the publishing contract continues to elude Kate, she perseveres.

She's two-thirds of the way through a trilogy, which a multi-published Harlequin author has promised to finish and publish (if Kate doesn't get the chance). So the first order of business for Kate is to write the dedications.

The dedication.

It was the first thing I wrote before I started writing my first novel. I'd dream about seeing that dedication at the front of a published book one day. Of honoring my mother's memory. Of surprising my dad with the book I never told him I was writing...the dedication bookmarked.

The dedication has changed over the years. I dream now of touching people I don't know with my stories. I pray for each one as I write.

What about you? Are you ready to dust off your dreams? Why don’t you start by sharing your dedication here?

Sandra's debut novel released this month! Look for Deep Cover on Amazon, eHarlequin, or at Wal-Mart. This is the first book in her Undercover Cops series. See more on our "Good Reads" page.

Here in Southeast Texas, we’ve had somewhere around 40 straight days topping the 100-degree mark. These are record-breaking temperatures. We’ve also been in a record-breaking drought this whole time. It's crazy hot over here, and we're draining our water funds, for sure.

Oh, we have some water restrictions in place, but the problem is our ground is so dry that just yesterday our city had 1,000 water mains bust open--the most recent of a string of 900 main busts per day. That’s a lot of wasted water. In spite of all our scrambling and trying and reasoning, the fact of the matter is Houston is draining 22,000-acre Lake Conroe, one of our main water sources, at a rate of ½-inch every day. One-half of an inch off 22,000 acres every day! And that’s just one of our water sources! We really, really, really need some rain here.

Really.

Unfortunately, God never promised us rain, did He? With each rainbow after the storm, He continues to promise a stop to the rain. He also promises to feed and clothe His people in the desert. He promises to be our Comforter in the midst of the fire. But He doesn’t tell us salvation comes in the form of rain.

That’s scary. Especially when I hear about places like the Horn of Africa. Somalia. Words like famine, refugees, crisis, coat those headlines.

I believe I’d prefer to know what’s up ahead. I think I’d like to hold on to some tangible evidence that God will fix things like I see they need to be fixed. Please, God, send rain! But then again, I suppose if I saw what was up ahead, and if I knew whether the end to our suffering was near, I wouldn’t live on faith anymore, would I?

Do not worry then, saying, "What will we eat?" or "What will we drink?" ... your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

--Matthew 6:31-32

When I was a backpacking guide, we specialized in taking groups of high school kids out on the trail. There were a number of games we liked to play with our groups, but the trust fall is the one that I will always remember.

If you haven’t heard of a trust fall, it looks exactly how it sounds. One brave soul climbs on top of a tall boulder and falls backward, trusting the rest of the group to catch them. It sounds a little crazy, but it was what we liked to call a “team building exercise.” We wanted the kids to learn how to take risks with one another—to put themselves out there and learn how to trust.

One particular group was a little hesitant about experiencing the trust fall. After we explained the exercise, we asked for a volunteer. No one raised their hand, so, wanting to be a good example, I decided that I would volunteer and show them they had nothing to fear. I climbed on the rock and asked if they were ready. They all locked arms and said yes, but somehow, when I fell back, they didn’t catch me. I hit the ground with a lung-compressing thud and saw about ten awe-struck faces peering down at me.

What happened?  

No one knew. And, really, it didn’t matter who was to blame or what went wrong. The fact was, I put myself out there and I fell flat on my back. That happens all the time, doesn’t it? The risks we take in life don’t always turn out the way we envision. Sometimes we place our trust in a person and they let us down. Sometimes we invest our heart in something that doesn’t work out. Sometimes we go for something and the next thing we know, we’re laying flat on the ground staring up into the sky, desperately trying to catch our breath. Okay, that’s just my story, but I think everyone can relate on some level.

When I could finally drag myself off the ground and stretch the aches out of my back, I decided to focus on a different question than the one I was tempted to ask. Instead of asking, “what happened?” I decided to ask, “what now?” What would we do now that I had sustained a back injury in the process of attempting to convince these kids to trust each other?

I found a simple answer. I climbed back up on that rock and I told them I was going to fall again, and that I was counting on them to catch me. It turned into a lesson for all of us. When you fall, you can’t stay on the ground.  You can’t run away and hide. You have to climb back up and take another risk, reinvest your heart. You have to go for something. You can’t live in fear of falling.

Oh, and by the way, just to make sure they didn’t live in fear of falling, I made each one of those kids stand on that same rock and put themselves out there. I figured someday they’d thank me. :-)

As fall closes in, a pack of activities growl their way toward me with teeth bared, threatening to devour my days. With an instinct much like an opossum against an enemy, I find myself more and more tempted each day to hide, feign death, or at least take a nap and let someone else take over until springtime.

Alas, in spite of my temptation to “play possum,” I must actively fight this wild schedule beast in order for my family and me to live life to the fullest. Therefore, like every other run-in I've had with these time predators, I must enact a few techniques which will help tame the creature and put me back into the role of Master over my schedule, as opposed to its slave. 

#1— When in doubt, say no. One of my life goals is to never say, “Busy, busy, busy!” if someone asks how I’ve been. Yuck! That’s not life to me. That’s survival. Or chaos. One of those. Whatever it is, a busy schedule does not leave time for sit-down dinners and quiet conversation—absolute necessities in building up the hearts of the people I love. School, work, church and extra-curriculars can suck away every second of my time if I let them. Therefore I have a strict policy with myself to say no to any activity until I’m very clear about whether or not it should become a priority. Which leads me to my second point.

#2—Determine priorities and defend them. I’ve had an idea for a new novel simmering on the back burner of my mind for almost a year. In my heart I know this idea has reached it’s robust peak of sauciness, and it’s time to get to work on it if I truly want to make a valid go of this novelist thing. Therefore I must carve out a block of time each day in order to make it happen—which means I’ll have to enact pointer #1 and say no to other day-to-day activities. That doesn’t mean I have to say no completely to other things. I can still choose something very close to my heart to which I dedicate one or two mornings or evenings each week. But the point is, time is finite, and if I have something that needs priority, then I have to defend that priority until my time with it is complete.

#3—Be open to detours. According to Proverbs 16:9, “a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.” As I mentioned above, I have tried to determine my priorities and say no all I could, yet I've also found that I live a fuller life when I let those plans go sometimes. That way I can embrace unexpected opportunities when they pop up. Last spring my schedule opened after some dashed expectations on the writing front. But instead of giving me frustration, this change of schedule meant I had excess time with which I could spend with a new friend. Little did I know that spring would end up being the only season I got with this friend--she ended up moving away this summer. So the season that could have been a burden of missed opportunity turned into a blessed time detour that I could have never charted on my own.

Even using my strategic balance of planning and letting go, I still haven’t gotten it all together. Of course not. And I certainly wonder whether I'll make the right choices as to what goes and what stays in the coming months. As a matter of fact, thinking about it right now brings out that sleepy little instinct inside me. But hopefully, if I can at least keep my eyes open and my ears trained in the right direction, then I can at least fend off my possum tendencies for now in order to really defend myself and my family against the pending threat of time predators. What about you? Do you have any techniques that help you schedule your life?

Since the summer heat index in Houston frequently hovers around the 105 mark, the neighborhood pool is a major source of recreation around here. Unfortunately, our neighborhood pool also comes with the crankiest, rudest manager you could imagine. Did a father put a kid on his shoulders? Expect a chew out session for that man. Did a swimmer dare to splash someone else light-heartedly? A yell and time out, for sure. Yikes! Tweets, yells, disrespect and more.

With that woman around, the pool is definitely no day at the beach.

Thankfully that manager doesn’t show up at the pool too often. However, the other day I was at the pool with my boys and their friend when our neighborhood black raincloud emerged on the scene, scowl and all, ready to ruin our fun in the sun.

My boys’ friend tensed up, then back, back, back he scooted, until he was right beside me. “Uh-oh,” he said. “That lady’s mean.” And he surveyed her with wide eyes, not daring to move from that spot until she left.

No way, man. Not on my watch. “Don’t worry, buddy. If we have any problems with her, you let me take care of her. You be yourself. I’ve got your back.” I gave him a reassuring pat and smiled as he ran off with my boys to enjoy himself once more. Ah, the freedom of a good kid enjoying a summer day.

It was beautiful boldness encouraged by the mere knowledge of an authority ready to defend him. 

Sometimes it seems the world would like to do nothing more than destroy a person’s joy in life, smother the summer rays with gray misery. We all face trials, disappointments, and even fear in our lives, whether from situations or people. As a Christ-follower, it is good to know I, like my boys’ friend, have Someone to back me up when I long to be me in spite of my surroundings—when I long to run in freedom, to boldly speak, to love without fear. To truly live.

Through Jesus, God promises to comfort those who need comfort, and He promises to be the strength for those who are weak. When we finally grasp the Truth of God holding His power out to back us up and embolden each one of us, finally we can feel the joy of cool, crystal water on our skin. We can run and play. And finally we can find freedom to live once again in spite of the neighborhood rainclouds.

Don’t worry, my friend. Whatever you face today, in Christ, God Himself has got your back.


Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ…the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.     –II Corinthians 1:3&4