Making Changes

I post on Tuesdays over at Mormon Mommy Writers.  I had to make some confessions and I have some changes I need to make in my life.  Feel free to stop over there and read The Confessions of a Procrastinating Scatterbrain.

A Letter of Excuse(s)

Dear Blogosphere,

In regards to the issue of my unannounced extended leave of absence, I am providing the following list of very truthful responses:

1:  "I wrote you every day for a year"  but my mother kept all my witty posts hidden from you.
2:  I forgot to lick the stamp before I sent my post.
3: Zynga locked my out of blogger and made me play Cityville, Farmville, and Mafia Wars, until I collected enough reward points to buy my way out.
4:  I am actually dead and typing this from the grave.
5:  The voices in my head took a vacation and left the lights off upstairs to save electricity.

Or if none of those excuses is acceptable maybe you will believe that after finding out I was pregnant a year ago things got harder and harder to keep up with.  Then my little man was born and I got all sucked in by his super cuteness.   I mean take a look this guy is so sweet.

However, I think the first 5 excuses are most plausible.

Sincerely Amber Lynae

What is it about triangles anyway?

I read my fair share of young adult fiction.  My current  project is a young adult fantasy.  I know I'm not the only one out there who has noticed the trend for love triangles in Young Adult fiction.  How did this plot line become so trendy?  Is this the only way for authors to create tension in a love story? Is the whole idea just way overdone to make it in today's market?

I actually quite enjoyed a post over at Midnight Meditations discussing this topic.

So what are your thoughts on the love triangle?  

Take it or leave it?

The Danger of Someday

I recently watched the movie Knight and Day.  I especially liked the thought that expressed by the character named Roy Miller:  "Someday is a dangerous word."

When many people hear that I am working on my first novel, I often hear the same response.  " I would love to write a novel someday.  But if you are anything like me, you sometimes push your writing to the side because your to do list is piling up. It only takes a short time to realize that the to do list never gets shorter.  When one thing gets checked off another has taken its place.  Someday can quickly become never.

This holiday season I approached my to do list with amazing vigor.   I wanted to get everything done so that the new year could focus on my WIP that has been gathering a little too much dust.  I hemmed my drapes, I hung pictures, I cleared the boxes out of the guest room, installed the area rug and new chandelier in the dining room, and I painted the bathroom, man cave, and dining room.  I even decorated for Christmas.  The outlook for the new year was looking great.

Two days after Christmas I realize when hanging my plate rack I drilled into a drain pipe.  My beautiful antique leather walls went from looking like this:

 To looking like this.

So it was back to the home improvement store.  Patching pipes and walls, and repainting.... Then the same day the washing machine died, then a week later it was my printer.  My to do list was regrowing at a quick rate.  But it was a great reminder, that we can't find extra time for our writing.  It will never happen.  There will always be other things that we could use to justify into putting off our WIP  (especially when you have written your characters into a situation you haven't figured out how they are getting out of).  However, you and I both know- although, some of us may need reminded- that you make time for writing because it is important to you; it keeps you sane.

Don't fall into the someday trap. 

You deserve to live your someday today.

Wednesday French Inspiration: Choosing Between the Good

There is beauty all around when there's pastries to eat.

 (What? Don't tell me you don't agree?)

From doors of the Parisian boulangeries, mouthwatering smells fill the air.  One is helpless to resist the heavenly scents.  Upon enter the shop, the charm and beauty of each pastry must be properly adored.  Getting lost in the beauty of each handmade creation, it is easy to forget that you must make a choice.  Oh but how can one choose?

There are so many front running candidates to be devoured and only so many euros.  This new found heaven  mocks you.  You want some of everything.  With every breath you fall deeper under the spell the spun by the artisans.  There are just too many good things, and you know you just cannot have it all.

When surrounded by so much good it is hard to choose.  Life would be easy if every choice were black or white, but shades of gray cloud up our decisions.  Sometimes it is left to us to decided from the good, better and the best.  Whether it is choosing a pastry or which chore to check off of our to-do list, life is full of tough choices. 

How do you choose between the good in your life?

The Value of Work

Growing up I can remember doing dishes, weeding gardens, cleaning bathrooms, and cleaning my room all before I was old enough to start school.  I want my daughter to know the value of work.  I want her to know that the good things in life are earned, not handed over.

I want these things but have NO clue how to do it.  I have trouble letting her complete a chore that I know I will have to go and  repeat when she isn't watching so that it is done properly.  Little Princess is only three she will be four before the end of the year.  

What do you do to teach a 3-4 year old the value of work?  

Which chores are appropriate?  

I Can Breath Again

I haven't exactly been super active in the blogosphere recently.  You may have or may have not noticed.  But the first Trimester of pregnancy left me with little energy.  Doing anything more than watching my daughter seemed  impossible. 

Things have finally started to mellow.  Little Princess now goes to Joy School two days a week.  Of course these means that one week a month I have a teaching obligation.  But it is nice to have a few hours to myself.  I can browse my google reader and visit blogger.  And the goal is eventually to open up the document with my WIP and tackle some more writing.

While Little Princess is learning, I sit in Panera with my laptop and enjoy the peacefulness of freedom.  More than anything I just wanted to say Hello.  I am still alive here, and I have missed you all so much.  I can't wait to catch up on what is happening in your lives.

Wednesday French Inspiration --Finding Time

Behind one of the Large clocks in the Gare d'Orsay or  Musée d'Orsay

There is a time for everything,  a time for nothing, and a time for the things in between.  A time for painting, a time for cleaning, a time for mothering, a time for writing, a time for exercise, I even hear there is a time for sleeping (I am not sure if i believe it though.)  It can get awfully hard to figure out how much time to allow for all the things I need to accomplish.  

However, without planning nothing gets done.  Timing seems to play a key role in all aspects of life and writing for that matter.

How do you divide your time?

Wednesday French Inspiration --Rising to the Top

One of my favorite experiences in France was visiting Cassis.  We drove up to the summit of Cap Canaille.   The cliffs over look Cassis and the Mediterranean sea.  As you stand at the edge, there is no safety measures to keep you from swan diving or tripping to a sudden death.  Well, it would not be sudden; the fall would take a while.  But the beauty is overwhelming.  The distant landscape dwarfs you.  You become small, insignificant, and if you are my husband, slightly woozy.   At the same time, the view shares with you inspiration and hope. Standing at the top of the world, you have never felt so small; you have never felt so grand.

It made me think about the trials I have faced and will yet face in my life.  The distance and height that is still yet to travel to achieve the dream.  At times I definitely feel small and insignificant.  But as I look back over how much I have already accomplished I am inspired to go further, and I feel the power I have within me to live my dreams.

Rise to the top.

Conquer your goals.

  When you look back, enjoy the view.

Embrace the power within yourself.

Wednesday French Inspiration

Veiled Lady in the Louvre

(Taken from the Archives of Seriously Amber Lynae)

This statue reminds me of the statues in the newer Pride and Prejudice film. There is something quite hypnotic about her face with the veil. How is it that the sculpture was able to show the details of the face and the veil over at the same time? So much detail and emotion can be created from marble.  It is awesome that marble -so hard and formless- can be carved into beauty- flowing and whimsical.

  I hope that you enjoy this piece of Paris and take this message with you :

No matter how hard any situation may appear at first, you can make out of it what you choose.  You can choose to let life crush you, or you can carve life into something that will have people staring with awe.

I hope that you will choose the latter.

Wednesday French Inspiration --Reaching Goals

Stranger biking the country roads of France

Today is stage 9 in le Tour de France 2010.  It just gets me thinking of all the work the competitors have put into being about to make 3,642 kilometers trek.  Not many people would be physically able to survive the race.  However, each participant has trained and put in the necessary work.  The race is not something entered unprepared on a whim.


It is this knowledge that inspired these thought/reminders:

Life is meant to be lived with purpose and we cannot reap what we have not sown.  

For me this reminder was a much needed push to get me to stop whining and start doing.  There is no someday but today.  So I will use today to start changing the things that are not as I would have them be, because no matter how hard I wish on the evening star it will not change the fact that life takes effort. 

 What goals are you working to accomplish?

How do you keep yourself motivated and consistent?

 

Setting Goals and Open to Questions

So Sarah of Confessions of the Un-Published is hosting a 50,000 words in 50 days challenge.  I am needing the encouragement and goal setting.  So I am participating. It started July 12th and runs until August 31st.  If you need so group encouragement sign up yourself.  I will let you know how I'm doing through the 50days.


Also, as a way of letting my readers get to know me better, I hope that if there is any questions you would like me to answer that you might leave it in the comments below.

Dying to Know more about Amber Lynae! 

 Ask me questions in the comment section.

Wednesday French Inspiration --Accepting Talents

The Iron Woman

 Gustave Eiffel's Iron Lady was inaugurated on 31 March 1889, and opened on 6 May.  Today the Eiffel Tower is one of the most recognizable structures in the world and is the single most visited paid monument in the world.  However, the tower was not well received when first built; many called it an eyesore.  Novelist Guy de Maupassant—who claimed to hate the tower—supposedly ate lunch in the Tower's restaurant every day. When asked why, he answered that it was the one place in Paris where one could not see the structure. 

When I ponder on the lack of acceptance given to this architectural art piece, which I hold so dear, I begin to relate it to my own lack of acceptance of the talents that my Heavenly Father obviously wants me to develop.  

Let me explain--as a child I wanted nothing more than to learn to play piano like my big sister.  I begged my mom to take lessons.  Both of my older sisters had the privilege of lessons.  And I will state as evidence that the youngest sibling does not get everything they want, that I was denied my request.  My mother told me that my sisters could teach me.  

Well that really did not get anywhere.  Teenage sisters are not very interested in teaching younger siblings anything.  So I took it upon myself to learn the art of piano playing.  And I did learn.  However, I have never gotten to the point where I would consider myself a pianist (even though I can normally sight read at least one clef at a time.)  I have never accepted piano playing as a talent.  Even though I enjoy sitting at a piano to play some tunes, I have never really thought to seriously try to better my abilities.  

It would seem that my Heavenly Father has other thoughts of my talent.  In my last ward, I was called to be the pianist for the primary children.  When I moved last fall, it took a month to receive the same calling in my new ward.  I hear my Heavenly Father silently shouting to me that I am a pianist and my talents are meant to be used.

Are you overly modest about your talents? 

Do you have talents that you have a hard time accepting?  

What are they?

Wednesday French Inspiration

In Our Economic Turmoil Seriously Amber Lynae (re)Presents:

HOW NOT TO STRETCH A BUCK!!
From the archives of Seriously Amber Lynae

My husband loves to shop around. He is always looking for a bargain. Whether we are vacationing in France or living in Virginia, he wants the best deal in town. Personally, I think it is great that I've married a man who doesn't want to throw away his money. But as his aunt and I learned from letting him and his uncle book a hotel.... Frugality can go TOO far.

For the equivalent $40 we stayed at Premiere Classe. (Just in case the name is deceiving you, it wasn't first class.) The room was barely big enough to fit the double bed with the luggage shelf above it. And the bathroom (pictured above) was more of a pod than a room.  It was so small that you can shower, poop, and shave all at the same time without moving an inch.

Overall, it was a laughing experience. The small size of the room really wasn't enough to rate Premiere Classe at the bottom of our list. The rooms which were non-smoking (in France??) definitely had been smoked in (there is a headache for me), some sort of mold looked to be growing over the door, and the two bath towels the provide were scaled down to fit the room and were more like hand towels.

Have you had any money saving experiences go awry?

Wednesday French Inspiration

Nympheas (or Water Lilies) at the Musée de l'Orangerie

Before visiting the Musee de l'Orangerie in Paris, I was completely unaware that Claude Monet's Water Lilies was  a series of approximately 250 oil paintings or various sizes.  I thought it was one painting. This May, it was announced that today, June 23rd, the 1906 Nympheas work would be auctioned in London. (I wish I could afford the estimated price of between £30 and £40 million).

In two oval rooms house within l'Orangerie, eight large paintings are now available under direct diffused light as was originally intended by Monet. The paintings depict Monet's flower garden at Giverny.  Many of the works were painted while Monet suffered from cataracts. 

It is romantic and almost magical when you stand surrounded by these magnificent works of art.  I felt all twitterpatted with a desire to be spun around the room or to be wooed by poetry.  The imagery really does evoke strong emotion.  Just like a good book artfully crafted, these works have the ability to transport you into a different world.

What has the power to to evoke strong emotions within you? 

Have you ever felt like you walked into a fairytale?

Wednesday French Inspiration

Crypte archéologique du parvis Notre-Dame 

Beneath Notre-Dame cathedral square is an archaeological crypt which preserves the foundations and vestiges of buildings which were constructed between the Gallo-Roman period and the 18th century.   There are remnants of bath houses, shops, hospitals, and house.  It is interesting to see this crypt of Paris's past.

It reminds me that our past is a part of today.  Our ancestors have paved the way for us to be what we are today.  We must learn from their successes, learn from their failures, and take those lessons to build our present.  I am grateful for the struggles and accomplishments that my ancestors.  I am grateful for all they have made possible for me today.I hope that we all can build upon our past in a way that would please our ancestors and allows them to know that we cherish all that they have made possible.

How do you build about the past to make a better future?

Wednesday French Inspiration

Lady Lamp post outside of the Paris Opera House

"Landscapes exercise a strange power over you.

As if each of us has an internal landscape, embedded in us during childhood

and which lies in wait until the point of recognition. 

Ah, there it is, you think. 

Or rather, there I am." 

-  Lucy Wadham The Secret Life of France

 I agree completely with Lucy's thoughts.  I felt this way as I walked through various parts of France.   I think we all have a place, whether we have been there or not, that we know is our own little heaven.  There is not one place on earth that I would be completely happy, because I would always long for the closeness of all my friends and family. 

I grew up in the foothills of West Virginia. The turning of the trees in the fall boasts colors that artists would struggle to capture.  It is breathtaking.  Those landscapes will always be a part of me.  

Yet there is a connection for me to Paris.  With her (Paris is nothing if not feminine) intricate ironwork, casual cafes, grandiose statues, cobblestone streets, and the glorious gardens, she beckons me.  This is my internal landscape.  The aromas, the sounds, and sights leave you longing for more around every corner.  You are seduced into a relationship.  While you eat your pastries or culinary art,  roam through the leafy boulevards, or hunt bargains at the weekly markets; you are charmed by her arrogance and coquette manner. She all but demands you love her; and you helplessly obey.

Describe to me your internal landscape and why you love it so much.

Dream Sequence Blogfest

So very last minute over at Elizabeth Mueller's blog, I find out about a Dream Sequence Blogfest being hosted by Amalia T.  

I don't think I have ever participated in a blogfest.  But dream sequences are part of what my current work in progress is about.  

The following scene is very raw example of the 'condition' that my MC--Damien deals with daily.

Enjoy!

*****

The queasiness in my stomach told me that I was lost in someone else’s dream again. It had been happening for months and I still hadn’t gotten used to it.

The night of my sixteenth birthday, it happened for the first time.  When I woke up my head felt like someone had used it for batting practice.  After I figured out that these dreams weren’t my own it became easy to distinguish when I wasn’t dreaming.

Gives a whole new meaning to “pinch me I must be dreaming.”    

In someone else’s dream, everything outside the dreamers mental focus appears in black and white.  Landscapes further from the dream center appeared vague and blurred as if I were walking around without my glasses.  Even the sounds of the dream becomes muddled the further I am from the dream center. 

I always felt a little bit safer being out of the dreamer’s focus, because sometimes people would remember seeing me in their dreams if I didn’t.  If I could, I would stay in the blurry outskirts of the dreams but it is only when I get closer to the vivid colors and crisp objects that the sickness in my stomach eases. 

My lack of focus, the gurgling of my stomach and grayish hue of my skin let me know I was far from of the dreamer’s focus.   Bile burned my throat, so—I headed toward the vivid colors. 

Unmarked gravestones surrounded me.  I figured names were just something that this dreamer’s mind just hadn’t generated.  Across the cemetery, there was a ceremony taking place near a short casket in color.

I began to walk with purpose forgetting that I cover ground much quicker in the dream state.  It only took seconds to reach the congregated group.  You could taste the sadness in the air.  I know that sounds weird, but emotions were very different in dreams. 

A young mother in the front row hugged an infant to her chest as she sobbed on the shoulder of her husband.  No one could even look up at the pastor as he spoke about loss and tragedy.  There were subtle glances at the tiny casket, but other than that everyone cast their eyes to the ground.

In fact, I think I was the only one that noticed the lady walking toward the group.  She proceeded slowly with her white dress draping the ground.  Her face was veiled.  Cradled in her arms was a swaddled infant.  With slow precision, she made her way closer to the group.  She started to gain the crowd’s attention, when she approached the mourning couple. Everyone was silenced and waiting.

The white lady bowed her head toward her swaddled child and hugged the bundle to her chest.  Her shoulders shook in a sob. 

“I can’t...  I can’t live like this any longer,” said the voice beneath the veil.  She handed the baby to the man who had been comforting his mourning wife.  He glanced down at the baby he had just been gifted and then to his wife.  While I stood confused they seemed to comprehend exactly what had happened.

The white lady then proceeded to the closed casket.  She clasped her hands over her chest. From beneath her hands black flamed over the white flowing fabric of her dress as if her despair singed the white dress completely blackening it with grief.  But when her veil vanished I felt as if the breath had been sucked from my lungs.  She was my mother.

I stood there stunned and staring.  I knew dreams could be disjointed and complete nonsense, but this dream and the emotions were so thick.  I guess the fact that I hadn’t been close to my mother in weeks made seeing her in this dream now hit me that much harder.

The funeral party vanished.  Only she, I, and the casket remained at the graveside.  This was her dream. 

There was my mother, the same woman who could no longer look at me—her son.  I felt like that baby she had just abandoned so easily when it would need her the most.  The fire was burning within me and my heart pounding.  She was giving up just the way she had on me.

In a low voice, somewhere between a plead and a demand, I said “Mom?”   She seemed unaware of my presence as she crumpled to the ground next to the small casket and opened it.

“Mom,” I said louder more forceful.  The lump in my throat was growing.  I couldn’t swallow the pain back.  My eyes were burning; my breathing deepened and I clenched my teeth.  Then, I exploded.  “Mother, look at me now!” 

She looked up at me. “Damien,” she said. It was nice to hear her say my name to have her look at me.  Yet there was nothing but sadness in her eyes.  She returned her attention to the casket and removed the corpse of an infant.  She hugged it to her and sobbed.

As I watched her pain, my anger melted.  I knelt beside her.  I wanted to comfort her the way she had always comforted me in the past.  I wanted to look in her eyes again.  Somehow, I knew that if only she would look at me she would stay here with me and fix my problems.  “Mom, I need you.”

     For a moment, she looked at me.  I could feel her love the emotional barrier separating us was fading.  I reached for her.  The movement reawakened her previous resolve. She closed her eyes, her head hung and she sobbed harder. “I can’t. I can’t live like this.” Tears washed down her cheeks, and our surroundings changed to a mausoleum.

A large stone casket lay open in the center of the tomb.  She rose with the infant in her arms.  My eyes bore into her back as she stood there frozen for a long moment.  She glanced over her shoulder to look at me once more.  She levitated above the casket.

     I was losing her for good.  “Please stay?”  My words brought her instantly before me.

 She raised her hand to my cheek and tucked my hair back.  “Sweet boy, it is too late.  My baby is dead.” 

I wanted to object to tell her no, I was her boy and I was living right here.  But she had faded like smoke before me.  She was in the stone coffin holding the small corpse. 

The sound of the stone grinding closed filled the crypt.  A chill ran up my spine.  With all my strength I struggled to stop the stone.  It was useless. 

A deafening echo boomed.  My mother was sealed in a house of death.  All was black and I was back in my room—awake with another migraine.

*****

There you have it my first Blogfest.

Wednesday French Inspiration

 Some of my new readers wonder why French Inspiration?

So I am taking you back to the beginning

From the archives of Seriously Amber Lynae

 I love my husband a little more now than I did before.  I have more reasons to love him the longer I know him. He is a wonderful man. But why have I decided that I love him more now? why am I telling you in my post? "Because he gave me the world. Not really, but he gave me a stamp in my passport." He took me to Paris (and various other beautiful parts of France.)






It is strange to go somewhere you have never been and feel so at home. I could only understand about 80% of what was being said; could respond at the level of a 15 month old (maybe); a wallet was stolen; and my feet ached from walking ALL day. I LOVED IT. Paris is always a good idea. I can't wait to go back. The beauty and grace of the country is undeniable.

And the pastries..... oh I miss them very much. We had a wonderful boulangerie at the corner from our apartment with wonderful selection. I think I ate more chocolate during my stay in France than I have in the past 4 months combined. How can you not love a place when you are doped up on chocolate? Seriously I would go back tomorrow if I had the opportunity. Any takers? Who wants to take me to France? I must admit that this is the first time I've travel off of the American continent. I am certain there is a lot of the world that I would love.  Paris has held my heart since childhood and part of my heart shall always remain in Paris.

So there you have it in order to relive Paris and France

every week I relate some of the thousands of photos 

to my life and writing.

Seriously in Real Utah Life and Storymakers Photo Evidence

Debbie, Jenn, Jenni, Yours Truly, and Meagan

 I think it may be time that I finally put up some photos from my Olive Garden Luncheon.  It was a small gathering that took place April 17th at Olive Garden.  A lot of last minute plans, and sickness kept the group from being bigger.  There is always next time for those of you who missed it.  IT was a lot of fun. And I even brought a treat for everyone.  This group was so much fun. You should have seen Jenn's face when she thought I very casually talked about my baby's fatal fall. (Mentioned halfway through the linked post.)  She may or may not have heard the whole conversation.  I will have to make sure to have some more bloggers' luncheons when I'm in Utah again.

I also was lucky enough to attend LDS Storymakers the following Friday were I met a lot of people in real life.  Like Elizabeth, LT Elliot, Terresa, Melanie J, Kym, Alexes, CK Bryant, and Carolyn V.

I may or may not have done some of the following:

Attended a class by Bree and said a quick hello to her.

Heard Howard from writing excuses talking and knew it was
him before I saw him. Then proceed to tell him so.

Stopped James in the corridor to tell him I LOVED The Maze Runner.
And demand he keep writing.

Forced Aprilynn to stop and take a picture with me.  And told her I love Spells and Wings.

It was great visiting Utah.  There were a lot of people I would have loved to meet that I didn't So it only proves that I must come back again.