Gasp! The horror . . . The sacrilege . . . Oh, let it not be so, let not this blasphemer be sitting two feet away from me . . .

We just stared at her in shock until she started laughing at the matching expressions on the faces of the four of us in the room. “What?” she finally asked.

I wrapped my tongue around it first. “You threw away books? And you dare to admit it here?”

Now, it’s no secret that we Johnnies are book-lovers. We make a four-year career out of collecting obscure literature, reading it, and discussing it in class. It’s what we do. In a lot of ways, it’s who we are. We are Book Lovers. We unite to sing the praises of all things bound in card stock with hotmelt and trimmed to size.

But there are those in the world who oppose our Creed. There are those who value Space and Organization above the wonder of typeset ideas. Some compromise by donating their unneeded books to good homes or libraries, which is an understandable decision. But some . . . some toss them carelessly to the side. As if they are . . . nothing! (Sob, gasp!)

Well, I am here as a safehouse. Just last night my husband erected four new four-foot shelves to hold the overflow. Now, most of these books that I so carefully placed in alphabetic order last night will not be with me forever. I am but a steward of them, seeing to their well-being until I find a good home for them, readers to devour their pages and write reviews for me. But oh, how I long to adopt them all!

In my quest to provide an island of safety for books of all kinds, I have developed several identities. I will answer to The Reviewer. The Librarian. The Bookworm. My keen ears can hear the phrase, “I need a new book to read” from a mile away, and my deft fingers will quickly pluck a selection from my shelves and deliver it to the friend or family member in need. It is not always an easy calling, but it is one I cannot ignore.

And we are training up another generation to take over our operations even now. As my itchy fingers dove into the box of books-awaiting-shelves the moment plywood touched brackets, my son and daughter were there beside me. Believing, hoping. And asking, “Mommy, do we get to keep all these books, or do we give them away?”

I caressed the spine of a novel just begging to be read. “These, sweetie, we’ll have to give away.”

A definite pout entered her tone. “But why, Mommy? Why can’t we keep them all?”

A question to bring tears to this Bookworm’s eyes. “Because, sweetie, other people need to read too. But don’t you worry. Though we send these out, new books will come in to take their places.”

I felt a little hand press against my leg. “I’ll help you Mommy. I’ll help you divide them. You just hand the non-fishing to me.” And she picked up a book with a cover that declared it non-fiction and put it in the pile for the lower shelf.

My chest swelled with pride. They’ll learn . . . and they’ll carry on. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.

We are Book Lovers.

What have I accomplished this year? Well, I’ve met my goal for books produced (though I didn’t set a strict one, I did finish each of the ideas I had through the year and wanted to complete). I made it back to the ACFW conference, got to hug my friends. I’ve done some organizing (that has since become disorganized again, only to be worked on again, lol), and I’ve held my own in the mommyhood thing. Got Xoe started in Story Time to get her out a bit, and I’ve done some preliminary research into schooling for her.

My career didn’t exactly take off in leaps and bounds as I had hoped it would, and that’s always sobering. But I’ve made strides there. I have an almost-contract on the line, I’ve delivered new manuscripts to my agent that she’s confident in, and of course Stray Drop went into its second printing.

I’ve also gotten terrible at finding/making time for my devotions. It’s hard, given that I used to do them in the morning, and I just don’t have mornings to myself anymore. And since Rowyn dropped his first nap, ditto on exercising.

So goals for 2010 might as well start there. My biggest goal is to keep my focus on the Lord–I know if I can do that, the rest will fall into place. Ideally I want to find time every day for my Bible, with the understanding that if I don’t, I can always find time for prayer (which I tend to forget).

I really want to get back to exercising, too. Not sure how, but hopefully Rowyn will soon be able to entertain himself for half an hour without getting under my feet.

There are a few personal goals that delve into the deep-of-the-heart stuff, like not giving into bitterness or resentment when people don’t just understand what I want and need and deliver it. Nothing makes me grumpier than falling into the “Why do I have to do everything??” way of thinking. We’re all much happier when I stave that off and focus on all the things everyone else does.

I also have some goals that are somewhat beyond my control–not beyond God’s, though, so they’re things that will be prayed heavily over. Most of these are career-oriented. I would love to have a solid contract (or two) soon. It would be awesome if Stray Drop won one of the awards I’m entering it for. And of course I’d like to produce some new books to send out into the big, bad publishing world. I want/need to find ways to get Stray Drop into the hands of more people–not just for the profit (thought it would be nice if WFP could pay off the investment they put into it, lol) but because I truly believe in the story.

Need to get back on the Christian Review of Books horse too–I’ve been neglecting that terribly. But promoting others and alerting readers to what’s available is such a rewarding calling.

We also need to pin down our exact plan for Xoe’s schooling this year. And I need to find ways to prioritize my time so that we all get what we need out of those few hours a day.

Most of all, though, I want to accomplish something for the Lord. I’m not even sure what, yet, but I intend to have a solid answer by the time my hubby asks us the question in church this weekend. =) Part of it is reaching people through my books, but that might sound self-serving to some, so . . . I don’t know. But more than anything, I want to be a beacon for Him. Which brings to mind a great quote that I think is a fabulous way to end one year and start another, with the goal of living for Him.

“There are two ways to spread light: to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it.” ~Edith Whart

Maybe I’m not a beacon myself–but I serve the brightest light out there, and reflecting Him is an honor as well as a goal.

Happy New Year, everyone! — Oh! And don’t forget to drop by every Friday (and some Tuesdays) from now on for author interviews! A lot of them will include giveaways to people who comment, so you won’t want to miss it! We start tomorrow with Linore Rose Burkard, who writes “Inspirational Romance for the Jane Austen soul.” Great stuff!!

I have so many fabulous memories surrounding the holidays, but one of my favorites is from the first year my grandmother came to stay with us on Christmas Eve. That meant Jen and I shared a room that night, and we both well before the agreed-upon time with our parents. For a while we just lay there and talked, but then we decided we’d just get up, plug in the tree, and wait. My sister went to the door, opened it–and ran smack into Mom, who was leaning on the doorframe. Jen shrieked, screamed “Busted!” slammed the door in Mom’s face, and jumped back in bed. Which wouldn’t have been nearly so hilarious had we not been 15 and 18 at the time. =) Our mom was laughing too, not actually mad. We come from a family of very-anxious-Christmas-ers. (My husband does not. There was a bit of compromise necessary when we got married, lol.)

Anyway. I love the old Christmas songs, especially the hymns. Though in college and made a collection of jazzy, swingy versions of the popular songs, and those are fun too. =)

I love all the lights. So magical . . .

I love the baking, and the eating what’s been bakes. 😉

I love those times when I’ve thought up exactly the right present for someone, and the way they thrill when they open it.

I love sitting back and reflecting on the miracle of that first Christmas.

And now I’m going to go cuddle my kiddos, get some coffee, and enjoy my Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Last weekend, I wrote something that was a result of those thoughts, exhaustion, and a headache, lol. Not my usual chipper stuff, but there are some great lines in it. 😉

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to sew things myself, make toys for my children with my own hands, and fashion my house with tender skill and precision.

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to be the woman so proactive that she takes command of her own well-being, of her pregnancies, of her children’s health and stands up to the system when the system is set on following a pre-determined course that doesn’t allow for individuality. Who educates herself on every facet of her world.

But I’m not that woman.

I would love to be so focused on my children that I have their schooling all planned out, that I know already what the goals would be, that I could use my time toward their education. I wish I sat down with them every day and focused totally on them, on their growth, on their learning.

But I’m not even that woman.

I would love to exist in a world where I didn’t need a watch or a clock but could just eat when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired, rise when I am refreshed, and work when inspiration struck.

But that’s not my world.

I love being a writer, a wife, a mommy. Sometimes it just feels like I can’t be everything well. Sometimes it feels more like I’m defined by what I’m not.

I’m not a cook. I’m not green. I’m not crafty. I’m not a clothes-maker or a toy-maker. I’m not a teacher. I’m not a world unto myself. I’m just a woman with a dream and a family trying to make the two work together. I’m a woman with not enough hours in the day and even fewer in the night. I’m a woman in a world of squeals and tugs and TV–and of laughs and kisses and hugs.

I’m a woman torn, but a woman who can see the beauty in the pieces. A woman who sees that there are holes and recognizes that they’re just part of the filigree of God’s craftsmanship.

I’m a woman who isn’t.

But I’m a woman who is.

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win Stray Drop at Stephanie’s blog!

Anyway. So in my house, Christmas prep is in full swing. Were it up to my daughter, we would have been decorating a month ago, but I held her off until last week. =) Decorating, baking, holiday preparation is in that category of things I hate to get started on but love to have done. And which tend to engross me once I’m started. Baking gingerbread cookies the other night led to chocolate chip yesterday, and if I weren’t out of sugar and a few other crucial ingredients, I might just go for type 3 today. There’s just something about seeing those beautiful lights sparkling on the tree in my living room that makes me want to break out in song and fill the house with the smells of baking.

And I’m terribly excited to be going to a fancy Christmas party this weekend. I have NEVER had cause to get all dressed up for a Christmas party, so this is fun. And my friend the hostess actually put it together just for a chance to get all fancy schmancy, so it should be extra fun because of its fun-seeking origins. I found an awesome little black dress with a cream sash and some sparkle where strap meets bodice, and the perfect silver shoes. I am not a shoe fiend, but I loooooooove those shoes! As does my hubby, miraculously. So yay! Exciting!

On to the final installment of my subject line. A friend of mine from one of my writing loops got an ARC of Stray Drop and just finished it yesterday. Earlier this week I got an update from Goodreads where she had posted a halfway-through review that was GLOWING, which made my day. Her full reaction was even better. It so, so warms my heart to hear that I actually pulled off what I wanted to in this book. So thanks, Dina!!

Speaking of which, you have a few more days to comment on Tuesday’s WordVessel post for a chance to win. I believe the drawing’s on Saturday. There’ll also be an interview and giveaway on Stephanie Morrill‘s site next week, and I think I’m going to have another title contest on Monday with a copy as one of the prizes. Although y’all should really go buy a gazillion copies for everyone you know too . . . 😉

When best friend Stephanie Morrill kept telling storied about her adorable kiddo kept her humble and anchored during the whole book-release process with cranky days and climbing all over the box of books, I laughed. When it was me whose big day was humbled by children up SEVEN TIMES the night before, leaving me with a whopping four hours of sleep, it wasn’t nearly so funny. Still, I tried really hard to get excited. I sent out emails. I posted blogs and Facebook statuses about it. I commented on the lovely Author Spotlight Patty Wyson had put up about me.

And then I dashed out the door to drop Rowyn off at my mom’s and take Xoe to Story Time at the Library. Fought with them over lunch, battled them back into the car, but Rowyn to bed. Rowyn, who hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the night before, WOULD NOT go to bed. I rocked him for half an hour and finally got him to sleep. Of course, rocking for half an hour also lulled me into semi-consciousness, so I had to go nap too.

By the end of the day, feeling more human, I was so ready for the excitement to bear some fruit. I was thrilled by the comments I had gotten on the various postings about the book. I was feeling pretty good, pretty happy, ready to take my place in the annals of history as a fabulous writer! (Okay, exaggeration. LoL)

And then my hubby said, “Log in to the store and see if we have any orders.”

Um, ugh. Nothing bursts my bubble like reality. Because of course there were no orders yet. Not surprising with a small press book on the first day, but still. Being me, I had hoped.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m still excited, I’m having a blast with these first days of promo, of holding those finished books in my hand and saying, “Wow. These are gorgeous.” But I’ve also resigned myself to the fact that, unlike in a book, each story in reality doesn’t have a definite climax. Or at least, not when you expect it. And that’s okay–because my story’s written by a fabulous Author who knows way better than I do where this plotline should go!

(Reminder–you can still enter to win a copy of the book at Patty’s blog through the 6th!)