Moving Forward

Listening to Neverwhere on BBC Radio 4. Tying a quilt. Taking quick breaks for Twitter and blog posts. Writing a drabble for a Prydain challenge on ff.net.

That's my Sunday night. How's yours?

This past week was a rough one. Lot of emotions stirred up by events happening in the world. You know how that goes? Most of the time, you're aware of tragedies and injustices, and you feel sorrow, but it doesn't affect you that much - it can't, because you still have to live and work and love, and if you collapse under every weight, you simply can't function. But then ... then some days, it just all piles up, and suddenly it's too much, and you just have to stop and weep for a little while, before you can pick yourself up and keep fighting the good fight.

This past week was a "stop and weep" week for me. But now I'm back on my feet, back to being able to enjoy simple pleasures, to delight in my family and the gifts God has given me, back to moving forward and shining light in a darkened world.

(And yes, I am aware that something as dark as Neverwhere is an odd listening choice when one is cheering up, but oh my, it is fascinating. The brilliance alone makes it a worthwhile listen.)

In happier news, I have been doing better at sticking with a schedule and getting things accomplished this past week! Slow and steady does it, not freaking out if I slip off schedule, and not caring if it's more boring to follow a schedule than to go about life at my own whimsy.

Also, I made a raspberry cheesecake. YUM.

So, here's to a better week this week than last. Here's to carrying the light through the darkness no matter what.

Lists, Part the I'm Too Lazy to Check

OLYMPICS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. Had to get that out of the way first. I am so thrilled for the Olympics. I was going to make my list this week all links to articles on the Olympics, but a few other things caught my eye as well, so it ended being just as eclectic a mix as usual.

To start off, though, here's a guide to some Olympians to keep an eye on, via the lovely people at Forever YA

Speaking of people to watch, have you heard about the woman who is eight months pregnant and competing? At eight months, all I was doing was waddling and moaning. Impressive, madam!

This is cool. That's all.

I was a flagbearer for part of the Olympic Torch relay in 2002. It was the most amazing experience - I can just imagine the thrill in London for this final stretch.

Speaking of cool ... I want a garden shed just so I can paint it like this one. Except I want a K-9 in front of it instead of a Dalek.

Pixar, storytelling, and Legos. What's not to love?

This publishing road map from YA Highway is AWESOME.

Part of me wants to be snarky about JK Rowling's planned tree houses for her kids and say "why not build a public playground this awesome?" but really, she's earned it, and I know when I was a kid, I would have adored a playhouse like this, so all in all, I think it's great.

This post from Shannon Hale's tumblr made me want to weep. Especially the last line. No kid should be made to feel like an outcast based on the books he OR she reads.

This also made me weep (for real), but for an entirely different reason. Joanna writes with such beauty and truth, and her words and photographs always pierce my heart. She's also one of my very dearest friends.

And finally, to end on a high (or possibly low) note, I give you three of USA's future Olympians. Our country rests in excellent hands, my friends:

Sacred Joy

On the second-to-last night of 2011, I unexpectedly got the best gift of the year - two free tickets to see Stars on Ice, my favorite show in the world, in Lake Placid, my favorite village in the world. My mother-in-law, already planning on visiting for the holiday, came out a day early so she could baby-sit the littles; the friend who gave us the free tickets had two others she gave to my mother and sister, so Carl and I met Mom and Lis in the village, had dinner together (served by the Slavic version of Basil Fawlty, though he was more harried than rude, but still - Carl was the first to come up with the comparison and it was so apt), and then went to the SHOW.

It was to flip over.

(I know, groan, but come on, you don't expect me to get a picture of Ryan Bradley mid-back-flip and not come up with an excuse to use it and make a lame pun with.)

Our seats were in the bleachers, but when they did the retakes for tv after the show we were able to sneak down and take the seats of four people who had left. I pulled my camera out of my bag and just started clicking. Kurt Browning was gracious enough to do the majority of his retakes right in front of where we were sitting. My sister and I might have fan-girl squee-ed just a little.

It was a two+ hour drive back to Albany after the show - the weather was hovering between rain and ice through most of the Adirondacks, which meant we had to drive slowly. So what do two people do to keep each other awake on a late-night long drive back home? Well, my sister and I might have done more squee-ing over the likes of Kurt, Ryan, Todd Eldredge, etc, but since it was Carl and I, of course we started talking philosophy.

Philosophy of figure skating? Why, of course! 

Way back in college, I wrote a paper on the debate as to whether figure skating was sport or art. My stupid, stupid English professor gave me a C, not because it was poorly written, but because he didn't think it was a real issue (note: at the beginning of the semester he told us anything was acceptable as a topic, and cited one of his favorite papers from the previous year, on "Why Blondes Have More Fun). I looked at him and said, "I am a figure skater: trust me, it is an issue."

He refused to believe me; that is the one and only C I have ever received on any assignment in an English class. And yes, it was close to ten years ago, but IT STILL RANKLES.

Anyway. Carl was asking me about my thoughts on it, and being wiser now, I wasn't so quick to jump to the defense of figure skating as sport. I told him that I couldn't really be objective on the matter, because figure skating was so much more to me than anything I could describe.

You see, when I am on the ice, just as when I am writing, I feel I am coming closer to the me I am meant to be (I know this all sounds a little "woo-woo." Sorry about that), back to the core of who I am, the Louise God intended me to be with all the baggage stripped away. Only skating and writing do that for me - nothing else. It is too close to my heart; I cannot speak objectively about it. Even when I am not skating myself, watching pure, good skating gives me an echo of that. It satisfies me in a way nothing else does, the same way that reading a brilliantly-written book satisfies me even when I am not writing myself.

And I am not a great skater, but when I am on the ice I feel like I am great. I am always pretty sure I look like this:

Joannie Rochette and Sasha Cohen)

Or this:

I want to be Katia Gordeeva when I grow up

And I really look like this:

True story - I got done with this spiral and told my friend who was holding the camera "That was great! My leg was really up there, my head was high, it was an awesome spiral!" She said, "uh-huh," and handed me the camera. I was shocked to see I had only achieved a straight line - but I suppose I should be thankful at least my head was up and my leg was straight. I don't always even accomplish that.

Or this:

SELL that final pose, girl!

But that doesn't matter. Not really. I do my best skating when I am all alone in a rink, with no one around to make me self-conscious. It's not a solitary act for most, but like writing, it is for me.

And that - because it is almost sacred to me - is why it brings me such joy to watch it done well. Oh sure, the eye candy is nice, too, but skating is unique and special and wondrous simply because, for me, it is an act of worship.

As is writing.

It's kind of a nice way to end the year, isn't it, making those connections and getting an unexpected chance to experience that again?

It makes me want to write more, too, and to remember more of what my writing is - not just a hobby or career, but an essential part of me, one of those elements that makes me me, and something that brings me closer to my best, my purest version of myself.

And that is the last bit of philosophizing you will hear from me until next year. 

Happy New Year's, friends!

God and Pantheism in Fantasy

A Mayan princess comes to a court in Renaissance Italy, where she learns to access the magic inherent in all nature, which is her birthright.

Sound intriguing?

This is the very basic outline for the new YA fantasy I am currently researching and plotting. The tentative, working title is "Starsong," and I'm already very fond of my characters. The heroine isn't really a Mayan, and the court she visits is not really Renaissance Italy, but a fantasy world based loosely on these real places, in that period of time.

I have come up against a snag, though, which is causing me great headaches. I am trying to avoid religion in general in this work, and am choosing to incorporate the Mayan pantheistic beliefs as a form of magic. That seems safe enough.

However. Whether a book is overtly religious or not, I always strive to glorify God in my writings. How does a pantheistic mindset work within a traditional Judeo-Christian belief which says there is one God, one Creator?

The closest I have come to resolving this is to delve back into the European beliefs before the Renaissance, where it was thought the whole universe was alive and danced to glorify its Creator. If I can keep that mindset, of yes there is life in all things, but it is all tuned to praise the One who made it, perhaps then I might be able to make it work.

I am, however, very open to other suggestions or ideas. As I said, I am still in the throes of outlining and researching, so everything is very malleable right now.