20/20? Not exactly.

I made a long overdue visit to the eye doctor this week. It’s not one of my favorite things to do, but since I could no longer read road signs from much distance, I knew it was time. Surprise! My eyes have not gotten worse. My prescription was actually too strong. That’s a first. Of course, the flip side of that is that the optometrist explained that after a certain age, your eyes start going the other way. At this rate, by the time I’m 100, I may have the 20/20 vision of my preschool days.

I’ve been wearing wire frames for quite some time and have admired the trendy plastic glasses that have come out in recent years, so I went with a new look. What do you think? Chic? Writerly? Or do I look like an aging female Buddy Holly? The best news is, I can see great, and the world is a safer place when I’m on the road.

On another note. On Tuesday evening, I heard Gail Provost speak on the Story Circle, a novel writing method instituted by her late husband, Gary Provost. Gary was a Writer’s Digest Magazine contributor for many years and dubbed The Writer’s Writer. Gail presented a visual workshop that gave new perspective to the time-honored Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey and Christopher Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey. I especially enjoyed the diagram Gail used that showed a fist (the inciting incident) sending the character in a completely different direction and thus, the beginning of the story circle. Most of the presentation was familiar, but as she spoke, I couldn’t help but apply the different aspects to my WIP and came away with new ideas and a new acronym to apply to writing scenes. Bet you’re dying to know, aren’t you? All right. WAGS.
W—World. Set the scene. Time and place.
A—Active characters who are doing something.
G—Goals. When a character in a scene is thwarted in his goal, have him take another swing; i.e. try another tactic such as flattery, rationalization or confrontation.
S—Stakes. Things have to matter. Something must be at stake.

So now, with my new glasses and a new tool for writing my novel, I have no excuse. Everything’s looking good from this side.

The Little Things . . .

I received this email from a writer friend yesterday. With his permission, I'm sharing it with you here at the Cafe.

Hi,
Sometimes I wonder if being a foster dad is worth all the trouble. But I have seen them grow up and do well. It's not always some great thing that they do, or that happens to them. It's the little things.

This is a little note I found on the bathroom sink this morning from Catherine, 18.

Dear Dad,

I want to thank you so, so, so, much for my brand new bed! I can't tell you how happy it really and truly makes me to really have my own bed that I can call my own and take with me wherever I go. You are the best dad in the world! I wish you had been my dad when I grew up. Thank you so, so, so, so much Dad!!! I love you lots.

Always and Forever,
Catherine.

Catherine's father has been in prison most of her life. Her mother is a drug dealer south of Dallas and would not even meet with her when we were in Dallas recently. A bed is not a big deal unless you have never had your own, I guess.

I am not really that great of a father, but I am glad to be able to be there for some of these kids.

Carla here. My friend and his wife are foster parents many times over. He has a heart for others (not just kids) and a quiet resolve to do that which God has called him to do. I know it's not always easy. He expects nothing in return. He accepts the little things that come his way and rejoices in them. That's the essence, isn't it?

As writers, we write because of a divine imprint on our lives. No guarantees. Lots of rejection. Yet, we plod on, not knowing what effect our faithfulness might have on another life. When recognition comes our way, a molecule of success, we rejoice. And that's enough.

Thank you, my friend.

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT ROAD TRIPS

There is just something wired into me that loves to get in the car and go somewhere. Even two or three hour jaunts to visit the kids or go to a meeting. Meet someone for lunch. I’ve never minded driving alone, but going with someone is even better. This weekend Max and I are off to visit family and friends and attend a wedding reception. I’ve spent the day in anticipation while getting ready. Here’s what I love about road trips.

• The sound of the car door as you slam it for the last time and mentally tick off all the things you were supposed to bring: clothes, suitcases, vitamins, make-up, the dog, doggie treats . . . Satisfied you’ve got it all, you pull out of the drive. The first thing I do is heave a sigh and relax. Nothing to do now but enjoy the ride.
• Conversation. Max and I have traveled a lot of miles together, and one of the things I enjoy most is uninterrupted conversation. Something about being captive in an automobile seems to unleash a never-ending series of subjects to talk about. Past trips we’ve taken and people we’ve known, the present joys and trials going on in our lives, and nearly always, our dreams for the future. And when lapses comes, it’s all right. We’ve been together long enough, we can read other’s minds anyway.
• Music. It used to be favorite CD’s, but Max’s new SUV came with a Sirius radio, so now we can tune to All Sinatra, All the Time or the Oldies channel. There’s even a channel that plays ancient radio serials like Fibber McGee and Molly and The Shadow. We’ll bring the music CD’s along for good measure, though.
• Pit stops and snacks. We both like to make frequent stops for coffee or potty breaks. And certain snacks are reserved only for road trips. Did anyone say Gardetto’s? Just one rule. You both have to eat them or the garlic can be a wee bit annoying for the non-partaker. The only time I eat sunflower seeds is on trips, while Max goes for the honey-roasted cashews.
• New vistas. Even though we may be traveling a familiar road, there are always changes to comment on or memories associated with certain features along the way. Going new places is even better with sights to drink in and wondering what’s beyond the next bend.
• Coming home. After a quick weekend or a two-week vacation, there’s just nothing like seeing the lights of the city come into view and knowing that you’re almost there. Home again, safe at last. That was one of my kid’s favorite last lines in a Berenstain Bears book, and it’s still true. Back in our own bed. Safe. A few new memories to file away. Fresh perspective as we begin a new week, a new project, or just come back to an unfinished project rejuvenated, ready to tackle it again.
  
  Today, we’ve got sunny skies and fall weather so perfect it nearly brings tears to your eyes. It’s going to be a good trip. How about you? Been on any good trips lately? I would love to hear about them.
  
  Happy Trails!