Frustrations

by Marsha Ward

It's been a heck of a day.

First of all, I can't seem to get my fingers to hit the right keys. I think that's because, even though it's almost the middle of May, for gosh sakes, I'm freezing. My fingers are kinda numb.

Second of all, MSWord seems bent on killing my novel. It keeps telling me it has encountered a problem and has to shut down. Then it's been telling me it doesn't want to recover my book file because somewhere along the way it became corrupted. Pish and tush! Not true!

So, I decided to turn off the computer for a couple of hours and see if that helps Word get over its snit. I haven't tried it yet, since I just turned the computer back on, and remembered that I was suppose to blog here today.

The third thing is, Blogger is acting kind of weird. First I got the little yellow pencils that tell me I can edit the post. The problem is, I was on someone else's blog. Then I tried to log in, and Blogger wouldn't let me. I finally got on, and whew, I'm here, but I don't have much to say.

Fortunately, on the novel thing, I have backup files all over the place, and another computer with a better behaved Word. Right now, though, I'm going to bed and see if the morning brings a better outlook on life and some warmth to my house. C'ya next week.

Touching Elbows and Exposing Thumbs

Did you know that if you develop "skillful elbow touching" you triple your chances of getting what you want? That means that if your booksigning is slow and you decided to converse with those browsing the bookstore and you touch them on the elbow, they are three times more likely to come buy your book. Cool, huh? I'm going to try it sometime.

And did you know that a person who places their entire hand in their pocket except for their thumbs is displaying their confidence and authority?

My friend loaned me this great book called The Definitive Book of Body Language by Allan and Barbara Pease ... I recommend it to everyone. Not only will it help you understand people's reactions at booksignings, conferences, etc., but it could be a great book for character development as well. What habits do your characters have when sitting at the bus stop or talking with their superior in the office?

Not only has it been informative, it's been very entertaining ... and they use a lot of real-life examples: Bill Clinton holding two fingers in front of his mouth (the biggest lie giveaway) while answering questions about Monica Lewinsky ....

Anyway, I've been having a ball reading it and thought you may find it informative or entertaining. Just be warned, you will become self-conscious about how you're holding your arms, hands, crossing your legs, etc. You will also begin analyzing everyone you know, and the discoveries are quite interesting.

Her Sacrifice Has Been My Success

By Marcia Mickelson

Her name is Lidia Corina, but her family and friends call her Cory. She is my mother and her sacrifices have brought to pass my successes.

My mother came to this country in her early 20's, leaving behind her home, her country, her family--her life. Leaving Guatemala was difficult for her, and she missed it. The U.S was a strange land with a language she didn't understand. Her sister and many of her friends came here as well in search of opportunities not found back home. My mother didn't adapt easily and longed for home. However, she stayed to build a life--she got married and had my sister.

Her home still called to her, and she went back to her beloved Guatemala for a time. That's when I was born--in Guatemala. I didn't live there long before she moved back here, this time, leaving her home for good. I wonder if she always thought she'd go back for that is where her heart is, but she didn't. She stayed here for me, for my family because she knew we would have opportunities that may not be found back home.

She made the sacrifice to stay here in the United States to raise her family, and it was a sacrifice for her because she loved her family and country. For that selfless act, I will always be grateful for the U.S. is my home, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She gave up her home so that I could have mine.

Every sacrifice that my mother has made in her life has provided an opportunity of success for me. She never finished school; she gave that up to help provide for our family. She cleaned other people's houses so that one day I could have a home of my own. Where I am today, what I have in my life is all due to her and my father.

It was she who led the way for our family to be baptized in the Church of Latter-day Saints. If it hadn't been for her courageous step into the waters of baptism many years ago with no family by her side in support, I would never have joined this church.

All that I have--an American citizenship, a college degree, a writing career, an eternal family-- would not have been possible without her numerous sacrifices through the years. Those sacrifices, along with her continuous love have made my happiness possible. I know that there is not a possible way that I could ever show her how fortunate and grateful I am that I was born her daughter. And, I can only hope that one day I could be a fraction of the mother she has been and continues to be to me.

Mother's Wisdom

by Marsha Ward

I'm pleased to announce that an essay I wrote about lessons I learned from my mother has been published in a book recently released from Leatherwood Press, Mother's Wisdom: Lessons from Sons and Daughters. The hardcover compilation is available at Deseret Book stores, and online at Deseretbook.com. My essay is entitled "Perfect in Salt, Perfect in Soda."

My wonderful mother worked hard to show her seven kids how to live the gospel. I highlight a couple of those examples in the essay. I hope you are able to get a copy of the book and read the tributes to the more than fifty mothers featured there.

The Lap of Luxury

By Tamra Norton

This picture by Mary Engelbreit is my absolute, most favorite picture in the universe. I even have it framed and in a prominent location in my house. I suppose I love it so much because it speaks volumes of truth. The true "riches" we find in this life do not have a monetary value we can place in the bank and buy a new mini-van with, but are found in our relationships with the people God has linked us to. And it all starts with Mom.

If my theory of riches is true, then I'm the wealthiest person in the universe, because I definitely grew up in the lap of luxury. I'm child number five in a family of eight siblings--seven girls and one boy. We're a Yours, Mine & Ours, or a Brady Bunch family, consisting of seven girls and one boy (but please, don't feel sorry for my big bro. The dude held his own just fine!)

I remember back in elementary school--I believe it was fifth grade--and two of my closest friends switched schools. One moved away, and the other started attending Catholic school. This was a awkward stage in my life and I suddenly found myself feeling very lonely and isolated at school. After a few miserable weeks, I decided that for my half-hour lunch, and half-hour lunch recess, I would run the few blocks home during that hour every day, and spend that time eating lunch and hanging out with my mom. That hour with just Mom and me became the highlight of my day, and likely contributed to my decision to homeschool my own children.

Another difficult time in my life happened in seventh grade--junior high. Need I say more? At the time, I found myself seated at a table with three other girls during English class, and for whatever reason, "The Three" (as I will henceforth and forever call them) decided that they hated my guts, as well as my best friends guts. The really unfortunate part of this whole scenario was that my best friend (and her much-hated guts) wasn't in our English class. It was just me, and "The Three." After a few weeks of thinking that I'd rather eat a frog whole than attend another day in this class, I expressed my woes to my mom. I was almost hoping she'd sign me up for boxing lessons, or provide brass knuckles, but Mom was much more wise than that. She shared with me the simple phrase: kill 'em with kindness. She suggested I just ignore anything negative these girls had to say, and whenever I ran across them in the hall, simply say, "hi" and be on my way. As scary as this was to an insecure 12-year-old, I did it, and the whole brouhaha blew over faster than you could say seventh-grade-really-sucks-rocks!

Mom saved the day!

Now I'm the mother, with seven children of my own (and I have no intention of catching up with Mom). When lo and behold, just the other day, I had the most marvelous motherhood moment that made me feel like the wealthiest person in the universe. My 21-year-old daughter (child #2) admitted, of her own free will, that all those years ago when I'd broken up sibling squabbles and sisterly cat fights with the proclamation, "Some day you two are going to be best friends!" that I was right. She said she has more fun with, and would rather hang out with her siblings (child #1 and child #3), than anyone else. After pealing my face from the floor, I couldn't help myself, and said those four words your kids hate to hear: I TOLD YOU SO! I couldn't help myself.

Thank you so much Mom, for all the great advice you've given me over the years, and even the few "I told you so"s. :) You're the best Mom ever, and I'm the wealthiest child because you are in my life.

Writing Frenzy

Ahhh, it feels good. I've been in quite a writing frenzy the last month and a half. It hasn't felt like this in almost four years. Prior to 2004, I had a year of writing frenzy. I wanted to write every night. I thought about the story all day long and couldn't wait to hit the computer. I didn't care to watch any TV. I just lived for the story.

In 2004, I sort of hit a writer's block. The presidential election tempted me away from the computer. I watched CNN every night, read books about the candidates, and left writing to the side. After that, I became pregnant and was too tired almost every night to write. My son will be three in August, and writing has not been the same. After that, I wrote out of necessity. I made myself write to meet deadlines, but the passion was not there anymore.

Until now, my passion is back. I started writing a new book in March and have been writing like crazy since. I think about the book most of the day and long to get to the computer. It's been a while since I have felt like this, and it's good to have it back. The presidetial election is looming, and I worry that my attention will be diverted once again. Luckily, we don't have cable anymore, so no more late nights with CNN. And any pregnancies looming? Who knows.

Feeling Sorry For Brit?

by Elodia Strain

I was in the doctor’s office reading a magazine when I found a poll. 86% of magazine readers said they “do not feel sorry for Britney.”

Usually I wouldn’t have remembered a stat like this, but something happened to me that day that kind of branded it in my brain.

The day went like this:

1. I spent the morning working on a freelance-advertising job only to have my computer go wacky on me and destroy a good chunk of my work.
2. I spent forty-five minutes on the phone with a customer service rep from my bank trying to sort out the problems that came about when the bank sent me a new debit card and attached it to the wrong account.
3. I spent two hours at the Student Health Center as the phlebotomists tried not once, not twice, not three, or four, or five, but six times and one near-faint to get a vial of blood.
4. Covered in Snoopy Band Aids and feeling pretty sick, I drove to the dentist where I was going to have a tooth fixed. The visit did not go well. (See below.)

The dentist I’d made an appointment with was not the one who greeted me once I was in the chair, and I made the mistake of assuming the guy asking about my tooth was a dental student giving me a pre-check. That did not go over well.

Then when I expressed my preference to have the procedure done by the dentist I’d made the appointment with (he’d been recommended by a friend and after the Health Center fiasco I just didn’t want to take any chances) I was told he wasn’t working that day. When I reiterated that I really did prefer to see the other dentist, I could feel myself being labeled a “problem patient.”

The appointment ended quickly and uncomfortably, and I walked out of the office in a panic, thinking: What if one of the office’s employees goes shopping with a friend this weekend and sees my book and says, “That girl insulted the dentist I work for. She didn’t think he was good enough for her!”

These panicky thoughts led me to a conclusion: I do feel a bit sorry for the Britney’s of the world.

I don't want to get into a discussion about poor choices/consequences and all of that, but it can’t been easy to live with the fear that if you aren’t always completely “on” in every way people will talk about you, write about you, and use your imperfections as a reason to reject your art/music/whatever-kind-of-work-it-may-be.

I got home that evening with a new resolve to just cut people a little bit of slack. To remember how it felt to hope that those dental office employees were cutting me some. After all, who knows if maybe the woman who’s rude at the grocery store has just lost her job? Or if the man who steals that parking spot needs to park close to the post office because he's just had back surgery?

Who ever really knows?