Passion

It's funny how God places a passion for something on your heart and once you've got it you don't let go of it until it's complete. The moment Moses saw the injustice of a Hebrew man being beaten by an Egyptian man, his heart was taken. He wanted to see freedom for the Israelites, his people. God equipped him, and he followed this passion until the day he died.

Different experiences in my own life have led me to be passionate about several things. One such passion, is that I want to help women see just how much they are worth- that they truly are beautiful. God created them good, and so they are good JUST AS THEY ARE! That they deserve to be treated with dignity, respect, and honour. I believe that the world is influencing us to treat ourselves, men, and women in ways that only hurt everyone. I want to spend the rest of my life changing this. And God has given me the means to do so, with this beautiful gift of writing. I want this theme to be an underlying value throughout my book.

On Monday I decided to start re-writing the story. I found that the original (which isn't actually the original, but draft #2) just wasn't heading in the direction I had intended, with the emotion that I had intended. It has a name (which I'm not entirely satisfied with): A Season For Everything (which will be referred to from hereonin as "Seasons"). I am, however, very satisfied with where it's heading now. I shall share a snippet with you all:

...I stood for a moment, watching the wonder of it all, a power far greater than I. But I could not be left alone with my thoughts. I shook my head as if my brain would topple out through my ears and be left on the “welcome” doormat at my feet. My car beckoned me...

And as for Moses' passion. Well, I wrote a piece similar to "Dear John The Baptist" in July last year... It's amazing how much scripture can spur a person's imagination. I was reading the daily readings (Exodus 3:17-20) and this just came to me:

Moses

A promise was made me

Of a better life.

Of a life filled with freedom

And a land flowing with milk and honey.

They were to hearken to my voice

And be compelled by a mighty hand,

Smited by wonders I do not know.

When He makes a promise,

He does not fall short

Trust should lie in that at least.

Listen and believe, I will myself.

But I doubt, I doubt.

I am nothing special after all,

Why would He choose me?

But with much reassurance I trust anyway.

I choose to trust in His choice.

Joy & Hope

After looking over my more recent pieces of writing, I have come to the realisation that there are so many that have come from negative emotion. So many written out of desperation, out of hurt. I suppose it rings true that a writer does produce his or her best pieces when written with raw emotion. Although I love how so many of them have turned out, they give off a very "sad" feeling.

These last few weeks, the Lord has filled me with such great joy, and so I do not wish to focus on the negative things of the past. I want to spread the love and happiness that He has blessed my life in abundance with. So today I wish to share one that is far more hopeful. It was a "conversation" I had with the Father one day in October 2009. He wrote the first stanza, then I the second, He the third, and I the fourth.

Saturday and the sky is blue,
a dazzling bright for my love for you.
I have given this day for you, My child,
A gift from the heavens above.

I will honour You with this day, my Lord,
I will love You with my life.
I give it back, a gift from me,
It is Yours to do as You see.

You must be weary, the road has been long
The test, the struggles, have taken their song,
But trust in Me, and you will find,
Relief is on the horizon.

I DO trust in You, my strength, my rock,
I seek out the horizon,
But not without first looking around me,
For right now is the matinee.

As you can see, He is a far better writer than I... the author of the greatest book we know :)

Dear John The Baptist

As I said I would, last week I opened up the file that contained my book. It was the first time in... well, a long time. Unfortunately over the years I have not had (or made) the time to sit down for a solid amount of time to just write. So I've resorted to tid-bits here and there, which haven't proved very fruitful. I seem unable to actually get anywhere unless I'm consumed in it for large amounts of time. So, as of last week, I learnt that it is not wise to attempt to "get anywhere" with my book when my sister is in the same room. I just cannot focus.

In the end, writers block consumed me and I left the computer feeling dejected. Not something that I am likely to attempt again in the near future (that is, writing with other people around).

On the plus side, New Years Day showed promise for the year to come, as inspiration flooded over me! It was all very exciting, jotting down in a notepad the thoughts as they came, feeling very much like a real writer- something that I haven't felt in a long time. I'm certain it was an interesting sight for my friends to witness... the other side of me that others rarely see. Like a child on Christmas morning, it was like something had awakened in me. Like that moment was the first day of the rest of my writing life!



I've been reading a book by Francine Rivers called "A Lineage Of Grace" (five stories about five significant women from the Bible). I do not agree with everything in the book, however have been fascinated by her idea of getting into the minds of those who walked this earth over 2000 years ago.

It reminds me of my own attempt a few months back. I feel inclined to share... You'll find that the first stanza is from the point of view of Elizabeth, the second from John The Baptist, the third from King Herod.

Dear John The Baptist

I fear the Lord and He answers my prayers
To bare fruit as I had desired-
It is now my reality.
A miracle that loosened the lips of the one I love.
In my old age I held fast to my hope.
The Lord stands close to the faithful.

My life is a witness to the Glory of God.
Such miracles do not come by everyday.
I have taken upon myself the faith of my mother
And the Lord has blessed me abundantly.
I vow to follow His hand
And so I leave the wilderness for life-
A life-giving water; it is my calling
And I call others to it.
They come in the masses.

My pity lies with this man
Who does not know what is to become of him.
The wickedness of the one I love
Has forced an end to his life.
My stomach churns
But I have guests to tend to.
It is not but a distant memory...
Only on the finest of silver.

Monsters In My Bedroom

Okay readers... great news!!!! It just so happened that a good friend of mine (and very talented musician) has taken it upon himself to write music to "A Collection Of Words"- the "words" featured at the end of my last post. The story goes, he woke up at 3am this morning feeling very inspired... He's talking about making an album out of my pieces- who would have ever thought, little ol' me releasing an album?? It's all very exciting!

Unfortunately I have not had a chance to attack my book yet... I will get to it... I promise! But seriously, I have no intention of neglecting this project- it's at the top of my priority list... There will be no more putting this off! Well, at least until tomorrow... ;)

I'm sure you're all very curious about what's so great and inspiring about this book. The idea came to me when I was in year 10 on a school excursion to an art gallery. The prospect of being "stalked" in an art gallery- of someone so intensely wanting to draw another. The idea blossomed as the day progressed, and within the week I had the entire story written in my mind.

Over the years the story has evolved and come to new places, and now I wish to include such Christian morals as chastity and modesty within the books' pages. Explicitly saying it or not, I have not yet decided. It's one of the challenges I will face this year as a writer... what path to take this character on?...


Anyway, we shall delve deeper into that later, but for now, a little something to enjoy...

This was written in February 2009. One of my best pieces to that date. It's called "Monsters In My Bedroom". [Takes deep breath] Here goes:

They're hiding under my bed.
In my closet.
Under my pillow.

The fluorescent makes thingsSafer.
Brighter.
Lighter.

But in the dark they have the upper advantage,
The element of surprise-
And surprise me they do.

The places you never go are the scariest.
Like the corner covered in cobwebs,
The back of the cupboard,
That long forgotten box...

You think you're safe.
You think that the monsters are leaving you.
You thought you had grown out of it.

And then there they go again...
Creeping up on you when you least expect it.
And you don't feel strong enough to face it,
Strong enough to get up and turn on the lights,
Strong enough to pull back the bed sheets and stand up for yourself.
...Not even strong enough to call for help.

How does one escape this bedtime nightmare
Especially when the monsters begin to follow you around at day?
When the light is no longer your hero, your Saviour.
Or perhaps you just don't let it be...

Perhaps if you could face those monsters,
The light would take them away,
And you would realise that they are just silhouettes-
And that pride is stopping you from admitting,
Admitting that you are scared of your own shadow...

Everything Begins With An Idea

I suppose the best place to start is always at the beginning... the worst thing is finding such a blog and not knowing exactly what it's all about.

The idea came to me whilst watching the recent movie "Julie & Julia"- about a woman who started a blog detailing her cooking adventures with Julia Child's first cooking book. I'm certain there would be hundreds, if not thousands of others who have taken up the challenge of writing a blog since the movies' release, however I am also sure that they would be of a vast array of topics.

Mine, I feel is slightly ironic. I will be writing a blog about writing. Now I know that I love to write... I knew that when I wrote my first short story in year 7. But I wish to supply a compilation of my shorter pieces of writing, or as I like to call them, "collections of words", hence the title.

I work within a few different fields of writing. Short stories are definitely not my forte, as I tend to be too descriptive (and editing is not my strong point- I'm very protective of what I write, even if it's not good!)... however I am very proud of the attempts I've made. Short film and theatre scripts, on the otherhand, I can get away with my descriptions and have a few in the stockpile in the cupboard. More recently I have delved into prose (or so I'm told that's what you would call what I'm writing- I'll let you be the judge of that).

But these are not where my true passion lies. My love of words began with stories, and continues with stories... one in particular has been on the go for around six years now. My goal for this coming year is to complete this story- and to find it published and in a bookstore near you. I dream of others being able to see what I see as I write- what a priviledge it would be to find one of my stories being viewed in Cinemas... joining some of my heroes, C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, J.R.R. Tolkien, and J.M. Barrie in the big league.

You shall hear of my triumphs and struggles here, as I grab hold of this challenge of finishing what I started. This book, this story, this thing that is to be my life for the next twelve months... and hopefully something that will find itself into others lives as they pick up a sleek hard-covered fantasy in the years to come.

And so, I wish to finish the first post with a taste of what I'm made of. A taste of the future of this blog. A taste of beauty... This was written in May, this year, as the Autumn leaves were beginning to fall.

A Collection Of Words

The leaf, as it fell, danced in the wind,

A perfect partnership;

One graceful, the other strong.

The leaf slips away as it nears the ground,

No longer willing to play the winds' game.

But the winds' pull is too powerful

And the leaf gets caught up again,

Dancing a dance it does not know.

It becomes a blur of beautiful colour,

As the leaf is spun in a forceful manner.

The wind has control and knows it,

Makes the most of it.

And so the leaf is carried away-

To a place it does not know.

The wind, getting confident,

Takes its eye off the leaf,

Loses track of what it was doing

And loses its seemingly perfect match.

The leaf escapes to the safety of the ground.

Although alone from its kind,

The leaf has a new partner.

The perfect fusion.

They make fertilizer together

And form the foundation

Of the beginning of a new cycle.

Its own beauty lost to give life to another.