To Be or Not to Be

The other day I was asked to present a talk on writing. My instinct was to decline based on the fact that I have no National Book Award or Pulitzer in my possession. But then I reconsidered. Why not share my approach to scribbling a story, with all the writing lessons devouring my brain? Maybe I'll stir up a few potential authors in the audience. So with no real teaching credentials and one measly honorable mention from a short story contest, I presented. And it was quite fun. 

I regurgitated all of those appropriate writing maxims…"raise the stakes" to keep an audience enthralled...“kill your darlings” so as not to lose sight of a theme..."show–don't tell" to create memorable prose..."write, and rewrite"...and so on. As I hopped from topic to topic, I felt that certain giddiness–like the happiness a child feels on Christmas morning. I could’ve held the audience hostage all night. It was awfully dangerous for anyone to toss out a question or opinion, because I would've been glad to engage in dialogue (over dialogue!) all night. But I sensed a few were suppressing yawns. So I wrapped it up.

As I drove home, I began to wonder why I never considered a career in writing at a younger age. I love writing. And I love the art of writing, which is also referred by many as "reading." When I was young, I would read and then I would write all sorts of stories. Often I'd piece together a screenplay for the town kids to perform. (My plays would have plots eerily similar to Grease, and were never actually performed. It seemed football games took precedence...much to my overlooked dismay.) But I know my penchant for writing and literature led me to an English major, so wouldn't it seem likely for my career to follow that of a writer as opposed to a banker? The only assumption I could make was that my mother didn’t recommend the idea. So I asked my mom why she supposed I hadn’t followed that particular path. Her response?

“You were pretty obsessed with camping as a child as well. Until, of course, you went on a camping trip.”

I think there were some financial/metaphorical implications in her statement. Hmmm. I do like the paycheck my current career provides. But I'm not quite ready to pack up the tent on my writing endeavors just yet. I've got some campfire songs to sing. 

My First Writing Award

Bonus:  Here's a book review for Lean on Pete by Willie Vlautlin if you're looking for a good read.

The Magic of Disney

We're coming down from a Disney high.

Seven days in Orlando - this time with a four day pass to Universal Studios to visit our beloved Wizarding World of Harry Potter. And while it didn't disappoint, we found ourselves wasting one-full day's pass to opt for you know who. Mickey Mouse. There really is magic in those walls of Disney. Eagle's lyrics kept drifting through my mind (especially as Doug couldn't seem to find the exits). "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave..."

I couldn't help but feel a bit sad about leaving. With kids the ages of 9 and 13, could this be my last hurrah at Magic Kingdom? Princesses. Fairy tales. Happy endings. We even coerced Doug to endure Tangled in 3D. It was quite delightful. Just ask Doug.

Today Alex and I watched two more Disney animated films. Then we thumbed through photos of our vacation - as if it had taken place years ago. Apparently, I need Disney to remind me that you're never too old to dream. On my last trip to Orlando, I started collected these figurines - Tinker Bell has a saying on her platform: "Let Your Dreams Blossom." I've had this sitting in my room for a few years now, but you know how you forget to look at the precious things you already have?

Actually, the sun didn't even shine in Orlando for the last few days. But it was shining in Iowa - just as we arrived home on Friday. So, I think that God was telling us that dreams can come true anywhere...as long as you believe.

Dream on, Kids!

Staring at my sleeping six-year old, I think to myself, “how beautiful this little creature is”. And then a completely disjointed thought occurs. Why didn’t I become an actress? Why didn’t I pursue journalism? Or become a critic?

He has dreams. Dreams of becoming Spiderman. Somedays it’s Batman. There’s even been talk of Ben-10, whoever that is. But Spiderman is typically the superhero of choice.

I can't really say that I dreamt of becoming a banker. A doctor, a rock star, an actress! (I even wrote to the Love Boat when I was ten! They graciously sent me a rejection in the form of a postcard.) Now, I’m the retail manager of a community bank in a small town --"Senior Vice President of Retail" Julie McCoy, eat your heart out.

I love my husband dearly. I love my two children dearly. My job is fine.

His eyes are slightly open. His lashes are so long. Not quite as long as his sister’s. He has the same white eyelash as his father. It’s in the center of their right eyes. I rarely have a chance to watch my daughter sleep anymore. Her head is usually buried in the pillow.

How do you encourage children to always follow their dreams? How do you make sure they don’t always take the "safe route" and forsake their passion?

My son loves his sister. She is annoyed by him, but takes care of him. I love it when she calls him “Buddy”. I still love her little-girl laugh. She’s ten now. Why does she seem so much older?

Mom encouraged me to try out for a play in college. I never did. In high school, I surprisingly was selected to play the female lead in “Flowers for Algernon”. But I had to kiss the male lead. I kissed him on the cheek. My drama coach was not happy with me. I would like to play the supporting actress in a movie. That dream has passed, I think.

I brush his hair back with my hands. It calmed him as a baby. Being a mom is the best. There’s much more to me than pricing CD rates, going over schedules and listening to complaints. I still dream too. Maybe of not being an actress, but I dream. Someday I will become a published author. Someday I'll make the bestseller list. Someday I'll be a guest on Oprah -- that would be the ultimate. Actually, I would love to be a guest...

Anyway, dream away little ones. Keep dreaming.