by Roseanna White | Sep 15, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Am I the only one out there slightly amazed that the ACFW conference is only a week away? I knew it was coming. I had in fact thought, for a while, it was coming this week rather than next. But I’ve been so focused on finishing my Revolutionary War novel that until I completed that on Monday, I’d hardly spared a thought to conference prep.
Last year, I’d planned on going to conference. That is, until it came down to needing to register. As I considered it, I remember thinking, “This just isn’t the year.” I had no idea what I would pitch. To whom I would hope to pitch it. Where I was going in my career. I was in the midst of writing
Jewel of Persia for WhiteFire, but that wasn’t something I needed to present to anyone else. Which left me with the same projects I’d pitched before and the distinct idea that nothing would come of it.
So my hubby and I made the decision to focus on growing WhiteFire and forgo conference last year. “I’ll have a better idea of where I am next year, I think.” So we went on vacation. And had a beautiful, perfect time with the family.
I’m still amazed at all that’s happened in a year. Not only did I renew acquaintances with a few editors that I value super highly, but I also wrote and sold a book to Summerside that’s coming out
in two and a half months!! I’ve gotten to watch
Jewel of Persia take off, which is super exciting. And we’ve expanded WhiteFire with some of the best books I’ve read in years.
All in all a great year. And I felt definite peace about going to ACFW this year. Registered, paid, signed up for my classes, even volunteered. When I did all this, I had this idea that I needed to connect with every possible editor, and a vague one that it may be time to search for a new agent, as my original one was focusing on publishing. I kept thinking, “Okay, I’ve got
Annapolis. But what about after that??” I thought I’d be pitching anything I could.
Since registering, I’ve signed with the amazing Karen Ball as my agent. I’ve got two other deals on the line, though certainly not guaranteed. And I’ve got this beautiful realization in front of me–I’m not going to the conference this year to pitch. I’m just going to bask in the wonders of the industry I love and see where the Lord leads me.
I’ve yet to get a dress for the award’s banquet (which I had two months ahead of time last time I went). I didn’t even think about business cards until last week, and I was putting one-sheets together (overview of my genres this time, upon Karen’s recommendation, rather than specific to a book) just the last two days. If someone asks me for an elevator pitch, I may just laugh at them.
But that’s okay. Because I’m not going to be hunting down agents and editors at meals this year. I’ll have appointments, see what those editors are looking for. Talk to them, hopefully laugh with them. And count it a success on that front.
Mostly, I’m just looking forward to these three days of being a writer. Living it, breathing it. Hanging with my peeps. I’m grinning over the fact that I apparently signed up for a career-tracking class taught by my own Karen Ball, whose classes I didn’t realize at the time I would so adore. I get to take it beside my best friend, whom I haven’t seen in two years. It’s going to be a blast!
And yeah, I’m going tonight or tomorrow to shop in my aunt’s closet for a dress for the banquet. 😉 (She also offered me her shoes, which is akin to heaven on earth.)
I’m excited. Not because I’m hoping to make successful pitches, for once, but because I know I’m where I need to be.
I had no idea how right I was last summer when I cited that as my reason for not going to conference in 2010. But praise the Lord I listened!
by Roseanna White | Sep 8, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
First, I want to thank everyone who shared their story yesterday of where they were on 9/11. If you haven’t yet, I’d love to hear from you on yesterday’s post. Tomorrow I’ll be asking for folks to share the tales of heroism and miracles they’ve heard–from the small ones like Carissa shared, about her aunt’s alarm not going off that morning, making her late to work at the World Trade Center, to the bigger ones of lives saved against all odds. Tomorrow we’ll feature the hope.
Today I want to talk about attacks.
Last night I had some of the strangest dreams I can ever recall. To give you some context, here’s what’s been on my mind. First, 9/11. Duh, right? Second, one of my books going to committee, likely today. Third, a lot of prayer I’ve been giving to my projects, including this new school year with my kiddo. Fourth, and this will seem insignificant, but bear with me, my internet has been crashing on my laptop.
So. In this crazy dream of mine, I got up in the morning like always and grabbed my laptop. Turned it on, and it booted fine. Then went blank. Just–blank. Not to be daunted, I go through the house turning on lights. The switches are on, nightlights are still glowing, but the overhead lights won’t come on. Weird, but whatever.
Daylight is just beginning to brush the world outside. I hear something and look out the window to find four inches of snow on the ground, but only in the grass. In the driveway is my mother-in-law’s Jeep. And in our yard is . . . a reindeer? Looked like it, but apparently it was a dog. (No clue what that was all about, LOL. Probably from my son’s new obsession with Rudolph.) My MIL gets out of her car with people I’ve never met before, people who look like I imagined Sandi Rog’s neighbors from Holland did (see her comment to yesterday’s post). My husband appears and tells me he’s heading out with them for breakfast. I’m fine with that . . . except the light thing is getting to me. And my computer’s still not working. And I’ve got that feeling at the back of my neck that says someone’s here who shouldn’t be.
While my MIL says something about taking the kids for an hour–which sounds like a great idea, since I don’t want them exposed to whatever-this-is, I start to pray. Only my lips won’t move. My tongue won’t work. Still, I force out the name of Jesus.
The lights come on. My laptop’s screen finally displays what it should.
Content, I send hubby and kids off and try to pull up my book on my computer.
It wigs out again, and the lights again go off. Getting mad now, I storm over to the light switch chanting the name of Jesus and glaring at where I imagine this invisible enemy to be. I won’t be run over. I won’t be torn down. I’m thinking, “You’re only here because you want to stop the good that’s coming today. Well, sorry about your luck. I’m not going to take it.”
I put my hand on the light switch. It was in the off position. I push it up. Something pushes it down. Up. Down. Until once again my swollen tongue wraps itself around the name of the Savior.
That would be when I woke up–pushing at my husband’s back and trying to mumble a prayer, LOL, while he says, “Are you okay?”
Now, I’m not trying to say this dream was anything but that–a dream. But as I lay there trying to get back to sleep and contemplating whether that was my imagination attacking itself or maybe a message that I needed to bathe my day in prayer, I had to look back over other times my dreams have had this note to them.
Here’s the thing. I’ve had fearful dreams before. I’ve had dreams that touch on the spiritual, usually when I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve had dreams where I feel the Spirit descend and wash me in His renewing waters, when that breath of holy wind provides in sleep what I need so much in waking.
This wasn’t like that, not really. There was no fear, just indignation that something would dare do this. And when I woke up, it wasn’t with a pounding heart–it was with a desire to give my day entirely to the Lord.
Contemplating what to blog about today, I realized that in a lot of ways, this is what happened on 9/11, as so many mentioned in the comments yesterday. We were attacked. Yes, it hurt–devastated. Yes, we were afraid.
But we stood up. We fought back. We worked together. We claimed the victory long before it was ours.
Today as we go about our lives, my prayer is that we consider what it means to be attacked, spiritually and physically. That we remember our reactions, that we recollect that helpless feeling we all had, the incredulity that someone would dare do this to us. And that then we cling to the real and true victory–the Savior who already won the battle, and the promise He gave us that we can claim that victory for ourselves by the power of His most holy name, His sacred blood.
Today my crazy dream is going to be a reminder to me not to just take it when the enemy tries to mess with me. Instead, I’m going to stand up and shout the name of Jesus. I’m going to do the work He gave me.
And if someone tries to push me down . . . well, I’m going to push right back.
by Roseanna White | Sep 1, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
WhiteFire Publishing has had the privilege of putting together four different covers now–and I have to say, they have all been amazing. We’re getting ready to put our fifth out, Walks Alone by Sandi Rog, and I’m totally psyched. Why? Because whereas before the photoshoot for the cover models was done too far away for me to have a hand in it, this time my niece Jayna got to play the part, and I got to direct the shoot. =)
We started with an amazing costume created for us by Jordan of the
Heavenly Princess blog. This an 1870 traveling dress, made from some of the most exquisite wool I’ve ever touched. Jordan did a truly awe-inspiring job–check out those pleats! And the piping!! And the detail!!
So after she sent us instructions on how in the world to put all this stuff on (complete with Victorian undergarments, of course), we set to work on my beautiful niece, Jayna.
I’d like to say what a great sport Jayna was. Though she seemed rather dubious about the very idea of a corset, she let us lace her into one and sat there placidly in it while we did her hair and makeup. My sister Jennifer played makeup artist, but getting her hair up was a two-person job. (Just for the record, we didn’t cinch her waist that small–she’s just tiny, LOL.)
After her beautiful face was perfect, we went about the process of getting the dress on her–quite the process! In the make-up shot she’s in chemise and corset. Yet to come was bustle pad, petticoat, jacket, and skirt. NOT a quick process! LOL. Then we chose some accessories, all there courtesy of my vintage-collecting mother-in-law. We were all fully in love with this hat, and boy am I glad I remembered to have my MIL bring over some gloves! The carpet bag, an important part of the story, was also the perfect touch, and matched the dress so beautifully!
We had a blast with the shoot, getting 700 shots, 500 of which were pure gold. You can view a selection of 10 of them in my
Facebook gallery. (That’s a public link to it, so you can view it even if you’re not my friend on Facebook.)
The results were stunning, we had a blast doing it, and now comes the next fun part–the creation of the cover itself. Here’s our first mock-up. Fonts of title etc. might change, but we’re loving the basic design. And it was so fun getting to see it all come together!
by Roseanna White | Aug 25, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
As I wrote up the posts about the fun time I had in Oregon, picking and choosing what I ought to share and what I ought not, it got me thinking about a few things of the utmost importance to all of us–and how to balance them.
The first, as my post’s title would indicate, is encouragement. Encouragement is one of the most important parts of faith–the thing that edifies us, that builds us up. Encouragement is born of love and respect, either in a general form or a more familiar one. And I gotta say, it’s one of the biggest blessings on my life.
Writing can be a very solitary endeavor, and after years and years of it, you start to wonder about your own work. I once thought myself an amazing writer–then I learned all I’d done wrong. So I set about relearning, honing the craft, and in a lot of ways starting over. I’ve never quite been able to shake the uncertainty that came with that epiphany. Which is good–I needed a good dose of humility (more on that in a bit, LOL). But it also means that whenever I know someone is reading one of my books, I’m nervous. Wondering if they’ll love it, hate it, or give it a resounding “meh.” (Which may be the worst of the three.)
Because I’m so acutely aware of my own need for encouragement, I will always, always try to offer some to other writers, even if I don’t necessarily like their work. They still put a lot of time and effort into it, and my tastes are hardly the end-all, be-all. In Oregon, one of the ladies who had an appointment with me sat down looking totally dejected. Overwhelmed. Close to tears. So rather than just invite her to launch into her pitch, I talked to her first. Asked her some questions about her experience thus far. Then listened to her tell me about her book. And before I looked at a word she’d written, before I knew if she was the next big thing or destined to shove the manuscript in a drawer forever more, I gave her the words the Lord had placed in my heart before this conference–that He does not discourage, ever. He corrects, He reshapes, and sometimes that’s painful. But He never, ever discourages. I really, truly hope that I gave her a measure of the encouragement that I received from others last week.
And encouragement I received by the bucketful. From the other authors who had read
A Stray Drop of Blood or
Jewel of Persia and took the time to tell me how much they liked it to feedback from agents and editors who had read my work-in-progress–I was floating through much of the conference. Yet with every praise, I felt a pang of caution. It would be easy to let the good stuff go to my head, and brag about it all over creation. But I still remember where that lack-of-humility landed me.
Nowhere.
It’s a strange balance we have to strike. Encouraging others is entirely necessary, and receiving it ourselves can do the work of the Lord. But we then have to careful that we don’t use it to do our own work instead. Encouragement builds us up–but the building must belong to Him.
I think it’s important to have those moments of excitement, and to have those people we can share them with. But I never want to forget that when encouragement rests on someone’s opinion, you can bet the opposite opinion is out there too. I cling to positive feedback, and I incorporate it prayerfully into my life. But I have to incorporate the negative too.
So as we all journey from our valleys to our mountaintops and back again, let’s keep the balance in mind. Let’s find ways to pull up our brothers and sisters when they’re headed downward. And when we’re on the top, riding high, feeling great, full of encouragement, maybe that’s when we’ve got so much to spare that we ought to share it with those around us. Spill it onto them, as I’ve mentioned before.
It’ll do good for those around us, then. And also keep us from focusing too much on ourselves.
by Roseanna White | Aug 11, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Though I don’t have organizational skills that would wow anyone, I’m a planner. A goal-setter. And someone who doesn’t often budge on those goals. When I say I’ll have a book to the 75% mark by August 14, for instance, I do whatever it takes to hit that point in the manuscript. (I’ve only got 4K more to write by Sunday to be there, which is totally doable, LOL.) When I say I’ll be somewhere at a certain time, I refuse to be late. When I say I’ll help someone with something, that then goes ahead of my other tasks on the to-do list.
In general, I think this is a fine character trait. 😉 But this week I’ve also been very aware of its drawbacks. See, sometimes I’m so set on meeting my goals and getting to that oh-so-important future point that I forget to enjoy where I am.
With only a few days left until I leave for the OCW Conference in Oregon, for which I’ll be gone through Thursdsay, I’m keenly aware of how long I’ll be away from my kids and hubby. And I’m already geared up to miss them. So I’ve been gathering extra hugs and kisses, extra cuddles and quality time.
It’s been a balancing act, even more than usual. Usually I have my set work times, and I expect my kids to respect them. They don’t, LOL, but I let myself insist on that half hour in the morning and those two hours during naptime. Other times of day I certainly try to squeeze in five minutes at my computer here and there, but it’s totally common for a kiddo (or two) to be on my lap or asking for help, or requesting I come outside “because you gotta SEE this!” But this week, much as I want (okay, I think it actually classifies as a “need” for my personality type) to get to that 75% mark in my manuscript, I really want (and definitely need) to stock up on the kiddo-time.
It’s made me think a lot about how I approach each moment. Yes, I want to walk for exercise. But you know, it’s so fun to stop every three feet to jump rope with my daughter. Yes, I wanted to answer that email. But there’s nothing quite like cuddling my son for those first 20 minutes after he gets up from his nap, when all he wants to do is sit on my lap and suck his thumb.
Sometimes I’m so focused on what must be done next (bath time, book time, bed time) that I forget to fully enjoy what is. Sometimes I’m so distracted by what I didn’t get finished that I can be grumpy during my family time. But this week, I’ve been very aware of how much fun my kids are, and how much I’ll miss their silliness next week. This week, I’ve been working hard during work time and savoring each moment of play.
I’m going to do my best to extend that aspect of this week into the future.
Today I have my mother-in-law taking the kids to the park for a few hours so I can pack some solid work into the morning. Part of me feels guilty about losing those couple hours with them–but then, I think it’s better to send them out to have fun than to have to plop them in front of the TV while I prepare my suitcase. And as always, it’s part of the balancing game. I know well that I’ll savor the other moments more once I’ve gotten some of my other looming tasks out of the way.
There are never any easy answers for balancing a home-based career with your kids (or ANY career with your kids). But I’m trying to be aware, not just of the amount of time I’m with them, but with the quality of the time. And I’m laughing a lot, smiling a lot, and cuddling a lot.
Goals are great. Keeping them is important. But sometimes you’ve just gotta live in the moment.
by Roseanna White | Aug 4, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
I have a family of drivers. My husband goes for drives to clear his head. My sister was one of those kids who begged her way behind the wheel on our farm vehicles as soon as she could see over it. My mother-in-law has a list of dream-cars. My dad is the proud owner of a truck, an SUV (okay, this one’s my mom’s), a Harley, and a four-wheeler. All these folks will jockey for a chance to drive whatever new vehicle joins the family. They love it.
Me? I’d rather being in the passenger’s seat, or on the back of the four-wheeler. At the end of the boat (not that we have a boat, but when we’ve been on others’) staring into the wake. Feeling the wind on my face but able to look off into nowhere for my enjoyment. Watching the scenery go by. Ignoring the traffic.
I drive–when I must. I love the freedom of being able to, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate and am thankful for my car, so much so that every car in my family gets a name. Our car now is Xander, our Jeep is Bartok. I’ve also had a Sparky and a Snowball. And yeah, I have a list of dream-cars too. But when we go out as a family, there’s never any question of who will drive. The keys go to David. The daydreaming goes to me.
The other night I hopped on the back of my dad’s four-wheeler to go over to the farm, and said, “Wow, this is my first ride on this.” I used to ride on my neighbor’s all the time, but I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it.
Dad replied, “It’s really easy. Look–drive, reverse. Gas, brake.”
Me: “Mmm hmmm. . . ” Ah, wind in my face! And look how green the fields are, stretching out until they meet the river, the mountains rising up . . . What a beautiful place I grew up in. What an amazing world God has crafted.
On the way back, Dad asked, “Wanna drive?”
Now, if you asked my 3-year-old this, he would probably say yes, LOL. But me, I just climbed on the back again and said, “Nope.”
And I spent the two-minute ride back trying to figure out why. It’s not that I dislike driving, per se. I certainly am not afraid to try it, I know it would be easy. And I can understand why folks get a thrill out of being in control of the motor that’s taking them from here to there.
But more important to me is seeing what I can see while going someplace. Having the freedom to ignore the musts of gas and break and traffic, of potholes and bumps, and focus on the ifs.
I think it comes down to being a dreamer. I’d rather experience from the backseat and try to imagine what the driver’s feeling than actually do the driving–because then I’m too busy doing to absorb. I’d rather sit on the sidelines and watch the game than play, because I can both see the moves and the expressions on the faces, I can learn the rules and create a story around them.
Obviously there are exceptions to this, things I’d rather do than watch. But I sometimes find it funny when everyone keeps pushing me to try something, and I just have to smile and say, “No, really. I don’t want to. I like it here.” I do wonder, occasionally, if this is a failing of mine . . . but you know, so far I don’t think I’ve really missed out by staying in the passenger’s seat most of the time.
I still go all the places the driver does . . . but I see a lot more along the way. =)
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary. 
