An Ode to Friendship

I have a story to share if I may.  It is about my pen pal, Liz.  Okay, so we don't really "pen" our letters to each other anymore, but when we signed up to be randomly matched up with another, I don't think either of us anticipated how our relationship would change our lives.  We were close to thirteen and loved to talk about boys.  It was exciting to write this person you didn't know, to get pictures of them, and to hear stories from the other side of the country.

We grew close and promised each other to be bridesmaids in each other's weddings, but what did we know?  I think even then, as a young teenager, I was doubtful that we would keep our promise.  I knew from observation and from being told before that you don't always keep your friendships into adulthood.  I didn't know why at the time--it didn't seem that hard--but I understood that it didn't happen for whatever reason.

But then we got into our high school years.  We found that a truly unbiased observer, one who knew none of the parties involved, was more valuable than we had realized.  We began to depend on each other as a sounding board, as a venting partner, as a confidant.

High school turned into college and the bonds were even stronger.  And then my family planned a trip to the East Coast.

"I'm way too close to you not to see you," I remember telling her in an email. "I HAVE to see you."

2009

So we arranged for me to leave my family for one day of our trip to take the train to visit her.  I was so nervous on the train ride there as I texted her, "On my way!"  There was so much at stake with our first meeting.  She could be nothing like the girl I'd talked to on the phone.  It was almost like a blind date, but the risk was greater.  If we didn't click in person, would it dissolve the entire relationship we had taken years  and postage to build?

She met me at the train station.  Her car pulled up to the curb, and I was surprised to find that I recognized her as soon as she approached.  I climbed into the front seat of her car, we hugged, and then she pulled out of the parking lot.  We started chatting, and all of the sudden, it was like we'd be friends forever...because, well, we had.

2010

After that day, I was ruined.  Talking in person was so much more fun, so much more rewarding than talking on the phone or emailing.  I was hooked.  We didn't do much that first day we "met".  We just talked...all day, like girls do.

A few months later, I told her, "I have to see you again."  So she flew out that summer and spent a week at my house.  Spending a longer amount of time together was even better.  Those little things you learn from watching someone in the moment...I began to notice them.  It was like now I could see the whole Liz.  Before, I only got to see bits and pieces.  Now, the picture was being filled in.  I learned things that most girlfriends know about each other: likes and dislikes, oft used phrases, mannerisms, etc.

And then my then-boyfriend proposed and I was engaged.  There was no question at this point.  She was being in my wedding.

With the emphasis on romantic relationships in our society, we often forget that friendships can be as exciting and as important as a marriage.  The bond you create with your "BFF" is unique and special.  It is to be protected.  They say most people don't have many truly good friends in a lifetime.  Strong friendships are rare and should be cherished.  I guess that is why I'm writing this post.  It is not only a dedication to one of the most unique friendships in my life, but also as a reminder that all friendships, whether with someone across the country or across the town, should be nurtured and protected.

And I am happy to announce that only 8 months after I was married, Liz was also married.  I flew out for her wedding, got to meet her husband-to-be, and participate in such a sacred life event.

2012                                                                                                    2011

This journey has been most special to me, and I might sound sappy writing this entire post.  However, I feel like it should be recorded and shared.  I am thankful to God for His Providence for this sister in Christ has helped me become the person that I am.  

Beginnings

I have been slowly picking away at the first edit of my novel. (Editing is such a daunting task.)  Today, I was working on the first chapter.  (No pressure!  First chapter!)  Setting the stage is so important for a story.  It's like the thesis of an essay.  What you say in the beginning dictates what the rest of the novel is going to be about.  Lots of times, it points to the path that your protagonist is going to have to conquer in the story.

You see, story is a lot like this diagram (very crudely drawn with Microsoft Paint) that my professor always drew in class or in crayon on the back of my manuscripts:

The black line is the trajectory of a character's life.  The yellow line is impact from an outside source.  The impact causes the trajectory of the character's life to change to some degree, however big or small.  In order to tell a story, you must first explain what the original trajectory of a character's life would have been.  Otherwise, the reader cannot understand the magnitude/importance/degree to which the character's life was shifted.  Story is explaining the "before", showing the outside source impacting the life, and showing the results/affects the consequently occur.

Thus my predicament with my first chapter.  It is so crucial to the rest of the story.  No pressure!

What's on your fridge?

I came up with this idea last night and thought it would be worth a try.  What could it hurt?  My professor in college, Ron Carlson, was lecturing on scene and talked about how the items in someone's room or car or home or purse demonstrate character.  You don't just want to put any sort of random detail in your description of a room.  You want the descriptions to reflect on the character or situation. 

One of his examples was what is on people's fridges at home.  Is your fridge clean or is it a home for a family of magnets? 

As a way to collaborate with each other, I thought it would be a fun experiment for everyone to post a list of what is on their fridge at home!  We could use the ideas for inspiration for characters in our own writing.  Free gleaning!  And it might just be interesting to see what comes out in that list.  So, either post your list as a comment on this post or post it onto your blog and post a link in the comment section!  A way to share...from one writer to another.

On My Fridge, I have...

1. a letter from an Italian restaurant with a coupon
2. a recipe for steak with garlic butter
3. a 2 year old photo of my 8-year-old cousin
4. an old Christmas card from 2010
5. a giant green Christmas stocking (the kind you get from the 99 cent store!)
6. a grocery shopping list
7. a turtle magnet that I got in Hawaii on my honeymoon
8. a whole bunch of empty clips
9. a free credit card magnet

I hope you participate, glean, and enjoy! 

The Journey of Writing

I had the rare occasion today to sit and read a physical book for hours while waiting for my car to be serviced. I didn't really like the book that much, but reading always makes me want to write.  Either to produce something better than what I read or to explore characters in the same way I get to explore them as I read.

So, I returned home and sat in front of my laptop to write.  I started on a story that I had been contemplating for some time, and I was immediately disappointed.  In no way was this writing process as enjoyable and easy as reading.  Where was the effortless explosion of character?  Why did I not have a firm grasp on this person's character?  I wanted so badly to enjoy that writer climax in which my fingers are flying across the keys because I know exactly what to write and because I feel so close and intimate with this person I created, like they are my new best friend.

But writing is much like life in this way.  A writer does not normally achieve that sort of euphoric state without effort.  In fact, the effort is what creates the joy.  We find joy because we put in effort.  The relationships with our characters are just like the relationships with those around us: the intimacy must be earned by spending time with them, listening, and putting their needs before your own.  Only then are you truly able to partake in that breathtaking climatic moment of intimacy.

So, even though I feel like giving up on this story because I'm not "feeling it" right away, I'm going to keep on.  Perseverance will yield much in the end.

Reading and Writing

As a writer, reading is paramount in importance.  Reading is as essential to the writing process as food is to eating.  At first, I resisted this notion because I didn't have a lot of time to read.  I thought, "I can still write and not read!" True, you can. 

 
However, I realized the writing is very much a collaboration.  Often, in the midst of competition and pride, this sense gets lost and discarded for the sake of maintaining one's sense of writer dignity.  I am blessed to be a part of two workshops in which the attendees all understand that we can be brutally honest when we constructively critique each other's work.  We understand that their input is vital, and we respect each other.

So, reading is a collaboration.  But what about published books?

I honestly miss reading a book.  I don't have nearly enough time to read.  So, I spend my daily three-hour total commute to read in the car.  Audible has become my best friend.  I'm able to read a book about every two weeks listening to it in the car, and the audio makes the drives go by in a flash.

Some people argue that listening to a book isn't as "legit" as reading it.  I think both have their pluses and minuses.  (That could be a whole blog post by itself.  We'll save it for another time.)  Nevertheless, audio books, though they will never replace the tangible book, have given me an opportunity to get consistent reading in.

The results?  I find that I'm more consistently enthusiastic to write.  Reading other people's stories gets me excited about mine.  And not even considering all of the rest of possible consequences, I'd say that's a pretty good deal.

At Noon

A Exploratory Profile 

In one of his five pinstripe business suits, Jacob ate his lunch in the car.  The windows were up, even though it was seventy-five degrees outside.  The stuffiness didn't bother him.  He just hoped no one could smell his lunch on him after he was done.  He didn't want anyone knowing that he ate alone every day.

Today, like every Wednesday, it was a $6 turkey deli sandwich on a rosemary bagel from Breugger's down the street from the office.  The peppered bacon here was his favorite.  And it was inexpensive.  Randy Simmons always went to lunch at the restaurant on the base floor of the office building.  A burger there was $15 plus tax and tip.

He tucked the napkin methodically into his collar above the knot of his tie and spread it out to protect the maximum surface area.  Last week, he had dropped a dab of mustard on his light gray tie.  It had cost a fortune at the dry cleaners to remove the oil stain.

When he was done, he wrapped his trash neatly into the napkin that protected his shirt, saved the extra napkins in his glove compartment for dinner, and returned to work.  His most flavorful lunch of the week was done for now.  Tomorrow was Thursday, and he was back to sack lunches in the corner of the break room until next Wednesday.

I Want to Be Courageous

I'm not a very brave person.  I'm not a risk-taker or even a spontaneous person.  I plan ahead, plan for hiccups, plan for worst case scenarios, plan for success.  I calculate and weigh the pros and cons so that when I go into uncharted territory, I have the best possible picture of what to expect.

That being said, I've made a "career decision" that leaves me feeling very vulnerable.  I'm second-guessing myself, wanting to be there for people that I care about but knowing that their decisions should not hold me back from putting God, my husband, and my ministry commitments first.  Still, you know how it goes, there are always questions that you cannot answer, the "what if's" that haunt you if you let them.  As the worry-wart type, I often do.  I feel more secure worrying, to be honest. 

Then this morning, I read the blog of my sister-in-law, Tiffany, who is currently in Africa on a missions trip.  (Check her blog out at http://tiffanychen.theworldrace.org) She signed up to go on an 11-month missions trip to 11 different countries around the world.  She left in September 2011.  Everything she's going through makes my problems seem so insignificant.  I wish I could say that I've cast out demons in the name of God and conquered the unknown in a foreign country for my Lord. 

How much better would the world be if all of us were as brave as we were when we wrote stories?  I am cut-throat when I write.  I hesitate (but not much) when I delete pages.  I send my characters into dark corners, thinking, "Let's see what happens," knowing that no time is wasted as long as I learn more about them.  Why can't we live life like that?  We so often are scared of the "what if's" that we are paralyzed by the question marks.  We write with reckless abandon, yet we live in holes.  We were made for so much more than this.

Christmas Letter

Dear Blog Readers,

Merry Christmas!  Here is part of my Christmas letter that I sent out to family and friends this season.  I couldn't leave you out!  Enjoy!  

As a recently married couple, my husband and I have been amazed at all of the things we’ve been learning about marriage and about each other.  We thought we’d share a few of them with all of you, either as a quick review or preparation for the future. 

Lesson #1: Work as a Team

The first team member’s duties are to cook a fabulous meal.  Experiment or try a new recipe.  Try utilizing some of the leftovers in your fridge.  The second team member’s job is to support the cook.  Stand by the annoyingly-nearby smoke detector and wave a newspaper in front of it to stop the alarm, which may go off at the rate of every twenty seconds.  Repeat as needed.  Remind the cook that the alarms have nothing to do with the quality of the food. 

Lesson #2: Celebrate Each Other’s Strengths

For example, you’re putting up the Christmas lights together for the first time.  Husbands are really good at cleaning the cob webs off of the eaves.  Wives are very good at pointing out if he missed one.  On the flip side, wives tend to be good at writing thank you notes.  Husbands are very good at signing them. 

Lesson #3: Be Understanding

When your wife buys six rolls of wrapping paper, be understanding. It is her first Christmas away from her family, and the wrapping paper makes her happy.  When she buys 20 gift bags, seven spoils of ribbon (what do you need ribbon for anyway?), three packets of tissue paper, and gift wrapping tape, be understanding.  Okay, she likes to decorate her presents.  When she buys a plastic container to hold the wrapping paper rolls, be understanding.  At least she’s putting things away.  When she buys a metal rack for all of that ribbon, be understanding.  And when she buys enough presents to use all six rolls of wrapping paper, be…well, just smile and say, “That’s great, honey.”

Lesson #4: Leave Little Notes for Each Other

It’s really sweet to come home to your favorite drink in the fridge with a little note that says, “I love you!” on the top.  It’s also really sweet to wake up to breakfast in bed with a handwritten note telling you how wonderful you are.  It’s also really sweet to come home to a sticky note on the front door that says, “Ha!  Beat you home!” (Racing is not endorsed.)