One Word Can Set You in Motion

Getting started can be the problem. This can be when gearing up to clean a closet or paint a room or sweep out the garage. It's especially true with writing. In our minds, we craft monumental things we want to express. But making time to sit down to write from our thoughts can be an act of avoidance. Just like with a chore we push aside, we make excuses.

I often say gearing up to write doesn't have to be difficult because it only takes putting two words together. Beautiful day. I'm sad. Life's hard. Let's eat. After two words have been scribbled before us, we feel relief. We've made a start. The two words invoke us to add more to our note page and soon we've included why we're joyful or sad and why life is hard and what we want to eat. We've primed the pump, we're ready to continue. Two words.

However, lately I've realized there is an easier way to dive into a time of expressive writing and it comes with realizing the power in just one word---one single word. From one word, a word that acts as a theme for the rest of our prose, we can create pages of sentences.

Go on a field trip to collect this one word. Perhaps when you open your eyes and ears as you attend to your daily routine, you’ll hear a word that inspires you or ignites your mind. Maybe it's a word that has come up in your recent conversations. Sit with the word. One word. Write the word at the top of your notebook page. And then, let your mind flow. For example, if your word is rebuild you would ask yourself what that word means to you. Rebuild. Let the meanings flow---Starting over, getting my thoughts organized, gaining confidence after my loss, finding a new purpose, letting go of some of my past in order to focus on my future, etc. From there look over your words or phrases that come underneath your main word rebuild. Where do these additional words take your thoughts? Keep thinking and writing. Don't worry about grammar or punctuation, the goal is to get words on the paper. Soon you'll wonder why you had trouble starting this exercise because you will have pages and pages written by you!

From the compilation of your pages you can find other themes to tackle. You never know where starting to write will lead you.

Writing is good and cheap therapy! Bask in it.

And Then I Met James

The older we grow as we travel this journey called Life, the more we realize we don't walk alone; many have influenced us. Friends, family, clergy, and others have provided guidance over the years.

After my son died, I filled journals with emotions, questions, woes----basically, lots of pain. Most of the pages were not ones I wished to share with anyone. Even though I felt I was losing my mind, fading from who I used to be, and finding the future scary, writing gave me comfort. Journaing brought clarity, and sometimes even solace. To help me on my rocky journey, I also devoured books about grief from memoirs to tomes on writing. It was in Louise DeSalvo's book that I met James Pennebaker.

Who is James? In a nutshell, he's a professor at the University of Texas at Austin whose studies have shown the value of expressive writing when dealing with turmoil. James' work piqued my interest.

In one six-week study, he had half his class write about trivial things and the other half write about wounds and the more sorrowful parts of life. At the end of the study, those who had written deeply were healthier. Pulse rates, heart rates, etc., were checked before and after the study to prove this.

James writes: “If keeping a secret about a trauma was unhealthy, it made sense that having people reveal the secret should improve health. As a social psychologist, I was concerned with having people talk about their secrets to another person because of the complicated social dynamics that would likely result. Consequently, I decided to have participants write about the most traumatic experience of their lives or, for those in a control condition, write about superficial topics.”

I knew writing worked, but because of James' studies, the value of writing as a tool for healing has become more "scientific" for me. The findings from his work are evidence I can use when I advocate for writing as a means of healing. It's not just me telling others writing works because it worked for me (and continues to do so), but there is research that validates how effective what I call "grief and loss writing" is.

My "After Daniel" journals were safe places to unleash all the feelings bottled in my heart. These tear-stained epistles now sit in my closet in a large canvas bag given to me by Sascha, a twice-bereaved mom, poet, and friend. These journals represent my journey of healing, and are one of the reasons, like James, I believe in the writing-health connection.

Writing through life's traumas is good therapy!

Can Grief Make Us Creative?

I remember being overwhelmed, guilt-ridden, and shocked at tears that sprung on me in the bank, the cereal aisle, and when watching a commerical on TV for St. Jude's. As I cried at the clinic, I told my midwife I feared my excessive tears would hurt the baby in my womb. I recall those early days of wanting to drive into the truck ahead of me on the road and die. I could not do this bereavement life, I could not continue in a world without my son Daniel.

Yet I, somehow, was propelled to write. Not just in my journal, but articles, poems, and essays. I didn't have energy to meet with friends, but I could sit at my kitchen table and put words onto paper. Ideas for articles filtered through me as easliy as waves topple the shore. I jotted outlines onto note cards while my toddler napped and and my eldest learned to read at her elementary school. I submitted some of my work to magazines and newsletters. When my first piece was published, I danced around the living room shouting to the sofa and walls, "Daniel, we did it!"

Often the phone rang as I wrote; I ignored it and let the answering machine take the call. Grief flattened my self-confidence, my purpose, and my faith. But writing kept me sane and motivated. Writing helped make sense of the senseless death of my four-year-old boy. The ability to express myself made me bold. Best of all, the connection I felt to Daniel as I wrote about him made my heart feel warm and hugged.

And then when another bereaved parent wrote to say my article communicated what she felt but was unable to form into words, I felt heard and understood.

~~ Alice J. Wisler believes in the power of the pen for healing, health, and hope. Join her on April 27th at the Hampton Inn and Suites in Raleigh for an all-day writing workshop, Weep Boldly; Write Bravely.

The Battle We Lost

It can make you feel that you're sinking or suffocating, or going through a little of both.

Eighteen years have passed and you'd think the damage would be over. Battle complete. Troops moved out. Rebuild. On to business as usual.

If only we were made that way.

As the holiday weekend approaches, I watch the men and women in uniform being honored, the waving Red, White, and Blue, read the grocery store specials on ground beef and chips, and feel this overwhelming ache. There stands what only I can fully see---a little boy in a Barney T-shirt and a pair of shorts. The boy needs a hair cut. His Mama wishes she'd taken care of that.

But in one second, a hair cut is forgotten. Because the boy needs so much more. He needs immediate surgery, a Broviac catheter inserted into his back running to his heart for chemo. Later he will need radiation. And stronger chemo. And prayers.

After the first week of chemo, hair falls out in clumps, sprawled out on the back seat of the dusty green van. A hair cut is not needed. His five-year-old sister cries when she sees his blond strands and balding head. "It's so sad," she whispers. We buy him a red ball cap to wear, one with dinosaurs. We buy him a blue one, too. He wears them for a few days, but when his head is smooth and shiny, he goes cap-less.



I recall how friends from church were driving in their van and passed us. I saw their smiles and knew that they were on their way to the Memorial Day church picnic. They turned right; we veered left toward the hospital. That image remains.

Every year for me, Memorial Day marks the beginning of the end. Eighteen years later and it feels just like yesterday when I sat on the sofa the Friday of Memorial Day weekend in 1996. The cordless phone was in my hand. The pediatrician told me that my son had a malignant tumor in his neck. The war raged from that day on, and on February 2, 1997, it ceased. All the surgeries, the chemo, the fight, the hope, the prayers-----over.

There was no victory; we lost.

Every year on Memorial Day weekend I am reminded of how much we lost.

Pushing it aside does no good. I have to acknowledge my heartache-----own it, for it is mine.

That's how we mamas are made.

And so I write on my blog and for some reason, that helps. Writing unleashes some of the ache so I can go to the picnics, hear the bands play, watch the fireworks. Writing keeps me from shattering like a bullet fired in the dark night.

For me, Memorial Day honors all of our soldiers---those here and those here only in the delicate arms of memory.

Still Life in Shadows has arrived!

Oh, happy day! My fifth novel, Still Life in Shadows, has made her debut! First, what a great cover! Next, I love breathing in the printed pages.

To celebrate this novel's entry into the literary world, I am giving away a few items. Want to join in the giveaway? All you have to do is join me on my Facebook Author Page, click LIKE and then proceed to the discussion that is going on. It's simple! Just answer the discussion question: Have you ever run away from home? What did you take with you?

Why do I ask this question? It does pertain to my novel. Gideon Miller ran away from his Amish home in Carlisle, Pennsylvania to Twin Branches, North Carolina. He carried one duffle bag. Now he helps other Amish youth relocate to English life in the modern world.

As a child, I often threatened to run away from home. Once I packed my red suitcase with the pink interior and set out to run. Of course, I was probably mad at my parents for something they'd done that I felt was unjust. I didn't get far. I think I sat on my suitcase about a block from our house for a bit and then got hungry, and walked home.

Head over to my Author Page and join us! Once you leave a comment there, you have entered the contest. I'm giving away the following and winners will be randomly picked by August 15th. Have fun!

GIVEAWAYS:

1. A pack of Songs From Heaven postcards
2. Two "Memories Warmed by the Heart" magnet
3. A pack of A Grateful Heart Dances postcards
4. Down the Cereal Aisle cookbook

And the times they are a changin'

I write to inspire.

Lately, with our changing markets, I need some inspiration.

I set out on this publishing venture with high hopes and a smile in my heart. My first novel, Rain Song, came out in October 2008. Offered only as a trade paperback for $13.99, sales did well. A new author, first novel, a small publishing house and yet Rain Song sold 25,000 copies within 18 months of publication.

I was not on Facebook then. I didn't have a Facebook Fan Club Page. Tweeter had not been created. I was not a member of the American Christian Fiction Writer. My website needed a make-over. I did not attend writers' conferences. In fact, I did not really know but one inspirational fiction author on a personal level.

But I arranged book events at bookstores, and marketed my novel and the next one---How Sweet It Is--when it arrived on bookshelves the following spring. I sent out newsletters and emails and slipped promotional postcards into everyone's hands. I blogged. My publicist was impressed with my efforts.

Now things are changing. Seems it doesn't matter about that number of 25,000 or that it is now at 28,500. Rain Song is going out of print. Immediately.

So is How Sweet It Is.

Oh, they will still be available in e-book format. People won't be able to dog-ear the pages, or underline sections with a pen, but they can download my novels onto their electronic devices.

When discussing sales at Penguin, Penguin Group CEO John Makinson said, ". . . We all recognize that the ebook is a fundamentally more profitable book with cost benefits for consumer, author and publisher alike."

My husband is not a CEO, but he's told me what Makinson stresses. Yet, I still wonder how the author benefits more with e-book sales over trade paperbacks? E-books cost less, yes, and authors get a higher royalty rate, but it all balances out that I get nearly the same amount whether it be 18 or 20 percent from a print book sale of $13.99 or 25 percent from an e-book sale of $9.99.

Are print books dying? Are e-books here to stay?

For five months, paperback How Sweet It Is has been in the TOP 100 categories on Amazon for Christian Fiction and Christian Romance. The novel ranges from #40 to #90 on these charts. I used to keep track of where it stood, now I realize that doesn't seem to matter. Paperback How Sweet It Is is not selling enough to make room for it anymore in the warehouse.

The times are changin' and I'm not liking it.

I need a good cup of inspiration.

Another workshop on the horizon

The first Writing the Heartache All Day Workshop was a wonderful experience, and we are going to have another! This one will be held at the Hampton Inn in Cary, NC on August 21 from 8 AM to 5 PM. We will have a full day to write from our pain for healing, health, and hope. Come to write with us--poetry, from photographs, letters, and essays.

When Fathers Weep At Graves

I see them weep
The fathers at the stones
Taking off the brave armour
Forced to wear in the workplace
Clearing away the debris
With gentle fingers
Inhaling the sorrow
Diminished by anguish
Their hearts desiring what they cannot have
To walk hand in hand
With children no longer held
To all the fathers who leave a part
Of their hearts at the stones
May breezes underneath trees of time
Ease their pain
As they receive healing tears
. . . the gift the children give.

~ Alice J. Wisler

Vulnerable

I remember when I told my boyfriend I felt vulnerable in our relationship. Actually, I wrote the word in a note. He told me I'd spelled vulnerable incorrectly. How was I to know it had a "l" after the "u'? When I said the word, I never acknowledged that sound.

Seems as a missionary kid growing up with strange English being spoken and mixed with my own mother's made-up words and Southern phrases, I often was not sounding like a native speaker. To add to my confusion, the English bookstore in Osaka, where I bought many books, sold books printed in England. Not only did I have to deal with Japanese-English, Momisms, and Southernisms, but there was the Queen's English. Those Puffin books put "u" in so many words that when our spelling tests at Kyoto International School rolled around, I never knew what the proper spelling was for color and favorite.

I guess I was always a little off-kelter, a little lost in the crowd. At five-foot-nine with blond hair, I stood out. Literally.

Things haven't changed. While my spelling is more sound on most days (on other days I rely heavily on spellcheck), I am still vulnerable. And on days like these, my sadness surprises me.

For you see, it's been thirteen years. And after that length of time, apparently, a mother isn't supposed to miss her son anymore. Which makes me feel even more of a freak.

Here in the US, this is Memorial Day weekend, a time of celebrating with hamburgers, dunks in the pool, flags, lemonade, and retail sales.

All I can do is remember the sound of the pediatrician's voice--a real native American speaker, educated at the finest schools---telling me that my son had cancer. I remember the curtains in the family room were light blue with dots. I remember how weighty and big the phone felt in my palm. That was fourteen years ago, and yes, I recall it better than yesterday.

Some days I feel like steel, toughened by this bereavement thing. Watch out world, here I am! Look at me, I am courageous and bold and compassionate and capable. I am a survivor!

Today I am annoyed by the mail, text messages, the woman who cut me off in the grocery store, and especially my own tender heart.

I have traveled far on this rocky road. I'm no longer angry at the doctors, friends who failed, family members who did not step up to the plate, or even God. That is washed away--forgiven, as I've forgiven myself.

But today, on the beginning of this weekend that will never fade from being Diagnosis Weekend even if it is called Memorial Day weekend by everyone else, I am reduced to tears.

Vulnerable. No matter how you spell it or pronounce it, it sits right there underneath my ribcage, lodged in every crevice of my heart.

I miss you, my Brave Cookie. I miss sitting by the pool and cooking you a hamburger. Perhaps by this age, you would have learned to like pickles and even called them pickles----not radishes, as you used to do.

On days like these, the language of the grieving heart sounds the same--yearning for what might have been.

Announcing a new site for writing through grief

Friends,

Please join me as I launch the new Writing the Heartache website.

This site is where online courses, grief-writing postings, talkradioblog
segments, and seminars for my organization, Writing the Heartache, will be shared.

Thanks for spreading the word!

Beverly Lewis and Me!

Yesterday I had the wonderful opportunity to hear bestselling Bethany House author, Beverly Lewis, speak at Cary's Page Walker Center, an event sponsored by the Wake County Libraries.

Beverly shared how she grew up in Lancaster County, PA, observing the Amish culture around her. She enjoyed playing with her Amish friends and recalled the fun of riding on a tire swing at one of the farms. Her knowledge of this group of people was remarkable. Later, Bev took questions from the gathered audience and then signed copies of her books, the newest being The Telling.

As for me, I was happy to just be there. The icing on the cake was being invited to eat lunch with Bev, Steve Oates and Julie Klassen---all Bethany House people. How nice it was to talk with folk from the home office as we dined outside at the Czech restaurant, Klara's.

One of the fun facts I discovered about Beverly in addition to her sweet nature, is her love of dessert! Her choice was the apple strudel. Julie selected the ice cream with espresso sauce. Steve and I went without. (Only because I knew that night I'd be dining at my writers' critique group and Catherine would have a scrumptious dessert. She did, and I had a deluxe-size portion of strawberry shortcake. Not sure if Steve got dessert or not yesterday.)

What a fun day it was, and what an honor to experience a small portion of Bev's 2010 book tour.

Thanks to all who entered!

The Name Contest to name characters for my fourth novel has ended, and I was grateful to all 38 who entered! The winners are:
Sarah P. for the handsome American from Winston Salem, Carson
Shelly E. for the half Vietnamese, half American girl (Amerasian), Lien
and Carly K. for the aunt in Winston Salem who raises butterflies, Dovie

Thanks, to all who played this contest for my fourth novel. You will be acknowledged in the back of the book when the book comes out in 2011. Also, copies of Rain Song and How Sweet It Is (your choice) will be sent to you soon.

The Tools You Need to Keep You Going: Resources for Aspiring Novelists

When I was young, my best friend Josephine cried at my teen-romance stories. "Oh, Alice," she would say dabbing at her eyes, "You write so well. That was great."

From age eleven on, I thought I was the next Great American Novelist. Josephine said I wrote well. Although she did give me the confidence I needed to continue with my passion for fiction writing, she also made me think that I was talented--no matter what.

Probably all of us have had someone like Josephine in our lives. Somewhere along the journey a grandmother, a father, or a teacher believed in our potential.

However, too many times writers think that passion and the love of stringing words together is enough. For me, if Josephine cried, then I'd written effectively.

There comes a time in our lives that we need to push a little harder.

There are six tools aspiring novelists need in order to build their craft with perfection and get published.

1) Novelists Need Practice

What do a violin player, a ball player and a ballerina all have in common? If they want to improve and compete in their areas of expertise, they have to practice! Writers need to practice at their craft in order to move from writing the tear-jerkers of our youth to adult novels with developed characters, scenes that move the story along, and dialogue that sounds like real people talking.

Practice comes by sitting down and writing, rewriting, editing, and reading your piece aloud. A critique group comes in handy. With a group, you have people who share your passion for writing and want to help you polish your work to a beautiful shine. A writer needs a thick-skin to handle the feedback from other authors. Grow one; listen to what others in your field have to say about your fiction.

2) Novelists Need to Read

Read good novels, ones that keep you thinking about the characters long after you turn the last page. Ask yourself: Why did the story mean so much to me? Chances are, it was the way the story was told or the voice in which it was written. When you read a novel you don't like, analyze it. Why didn't it work for you? Was the plot too sappy? The heroine too perfect? What made it boring? How could the author have improved it?

When you find an author you like, read everything he or she has written. I did this with Elizabeth Berg. Reading all of her books helped me to get a better grip on finding my own voice for my novel Rain Song.

Berg's honesty in her works inspired me to sit at my computer and write. Good writing does that to us. Upon returning from a Monet exhibition, my young artist daughter spent hours drawing. Inspiration often produces inspiration.

3) Novelists Need Discipline

Yes, you have to write if you are going to aspire to get your work published. I don't say this as a joke. For the longest time I thought that just wanting to be a writer would make me one. That's like saying if you sit in the kitchen long enough you will produce a tasty chocolate cake. No, you must follow a recipe and making sure you have the ingredients needed for the cake sure helps, too.

Carve out time to write. Keep at it. Every job has aspects about it you don't like. Writing is no different. You may want to watch that special on TV or go out with friends. Then tell me, when will you write? Make time. Writing has to be a priority. If you wait to write only when there is nothing else to do, you will have nothing to show for it. Trust me; you have to guard your writing time. Set a goal. Want to have fifty pages completed by end of the month? Have a query letter for your novel out to an agent by the first of next year? Get busy!

4) Novelists Need to Share with God

Have you ever poured out your hopes and dreams to God? Have you ever sat in church and asked him to lead you on the writing path he wants for you? James 1:5 tells us not to be afraid to ask for wisdom. Ask, believe it will be supplied, and don't doubt. Then listen and God will guide you. As with every part of our lives, God needs to be the Overseer of our writing.

Bring God into your writing dream. He is, after all, the Giver of Talent. Your creativity is a gift to you from him.

5) Novelists Need Other Sources

I am amazed at the number of aspiring authors out there who have never purchased Writer's Digest or The Writer. These magazines and others that have valuable information about honing your skills are vital to the writer’s toolbox. Subscribing to online e-zines will also increase your writing potential.

There are a number of Christian writers' conferences held every year. Agents, editors, and authors are often on the faculty and their workshops and expertise can inspire you along this journey.

If you are serious about getting your novel completed and sent to an agent, you need to know about the process. A wealth of books sits on shelves, and purchasing a few at the bookstore or borrowing from the library will help to build your creative muscles.

Here are a few I recommend to help improve your writing as well as those on finding agents and how the publishing world works. You need to be prepared because you certainly don't want to be clueless when your big break happens and an editor wants to buy your novel.

* Fiction Writer's Workshop by Josip Novakovich
* Write and Sell Your First Novel by Oscar Collier with Frances Spaz Leighton
* How Not to Write a Novel by David Armstrong
* The Sell Your Novel Toolkit by Elizabeth Lyon
* The Complete Idiot's Guide to Getting Published by Sheree Bykofsky and Jennifer Basye Sander

If you want to be under the tutelage of a pro, take an online fiction writer’s class or a continuing education writing class at your community college.

6) Novelists Need Encouragement

Yes, yes, we don't want to belittle any of the encouragement we can get! Let it come from our friends, groups, those who have read an essay or piece we wrote for the local paper--the more praise the merrier.

We must also remember that not everyone is going to love everything we've written or that we will write. So, once again, develop that thick skin and know that the motivation to continue on has to come from within. You are your best motivator.

So set yourself at your writing place, turn on some music, block out the rest of the world, and write.

Keep all of these tools handy and use them often. Let your mantra be from Ephesians 2:10: "For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

Cary Public Library

One of the fun things about having a novel out is the book events.
On January 26, at 7 PM, I will be at the Cary Public Library at
310 South Academy Street talking about Rain Song. Books will be for sale there for $13.99. Be sure to mark your calendars, and come on out! I look forward to this event.