Beautiful Inside and Out

Five thoughtful and thought-provoking essays by authors Heather B. Moore and Angela Eschler, gathered together in Christ’s Gifts to Women. Much more than essays is going on in this book. It is graced by design and content as well as words. 
           

The design of the book jacket (and, peeking underneath I see of the book itself) is tastefully purple and portrait. Mary Magdalene at the garden tomb shows by the look on her face that she has seen that the Christ lives. Inside the book covers, end papers reminiscent of fine publications of the last century and pages in brown and sepia tones remind us of first editions. Pale spring flowers spill over edges and tops of the pages illuminating the fine art and careful words that grace each essay. Pull quotes in graceful script draw us into the text and teach and comfort us even if they are the only things we read. 

The content of the book treats five gifts that Christ gives to women. Each gift is intriguing to me. Mercy, Experience, Wholeness, Nurturing, and Seeing are the subjects of the five essays. They are surrounded by fine art, much of it by gifted Latter-day Saint artists—several very nice pieces that I have not seen before. Some paintings are full page and full color. Others are smaller with tasteful golden frames around them. Still other appear as drawings, sepia-toned, increasing the sense of a fine old work that has been connected to our very lives.           

The words are crafted around each of the five gifts and quote liberally from scripture and latter-day prophets in exploring how each gift blesses a specific scriptural woman. Here we meet the woman at the well and the woman taken in adultery; Mary and Martha; the woman with the issue of blood; Mary, the mother of Jesus; and Mary Magdalene. In each case the teachings Christ gave to these women are applied to us, modern women, who wrestle with struggles women always face.  

Memorable quotes live here. In the Mercy section we read, “”. . .He is a merciful judge. He, our only legitimate accuser, does not condemn.”  In the Experience section we find, “We are in the process of perfection. It was not meant to be a single event.” In the Wholeness section, “The gift of wholeness is available to each of us, no matter how broken we might feel.” 

I like the intention of this book. I like the beauty of it—making it a treasure for any library or coffee table or loved one. And I like the sense of it that provides something insightful to think about when the reading is done. 

These are not the only five gifts Christ has given us. What about hope? Blessings? Giving? Loving? Receiving? Creating? Being? And many more. But these five are a good beginning and give insightful understanding and hope when they are pondered and hopefully understood. An excellent volume that deserves reading again and again.

An Excellent Read

I’m intrigued by the premise—four books in a series by four different authors. In the Newport Ladies Book Club: Olivia we meet eight women. Eventually each will have a book of her own.

Julie Wright, in Olivia, has launched a “must-read” with her themes, characters, plot, humor, and style. 

Wright’s theme of friendship is strengthened and modeled by the books within a book. The books the friends study together are reflective of the issues Olivia is facing in her own life. Good books they are. In fact, knowing that I am often lifted by good writing, knowing how truths channeled through a good book solidifies my own truths, I would have enjoyed even more of the study in book club. 

The characterizations in Olivia are developed through Olivia’s—Livvy’s—eyes. I like the Pollyanna part of her character as she struggles with a modern woman’s life of busy husband, children, and large house. In fact, surely she is like someone I know—a neighbor, a family member, maybe myself. Her efforts to be perfect are laudable and her dismay as her life seems to be crumbling around her is puzzling and troubling, just like someone I know. Livvy’s husband, Nick, is, I suppose, necessarily less dimensional because we aren’t in his head. We see him only through Livvy’s eyes, strengthening the power of point of view. Characterizations of some of the children are more developed than others, but I find them interesting and, well, normal. 

Wright deftly weaves plotlines through everyday life. In fact, everyday life is the plot. However, this plot development has none of the “slice of life” seediness we expect from realism; nevertheless this family and these events ring true. 

Wright’s sense of humor raises its head at most unlikely times. I like that. After one difficult interchange with her husband Livvy thinks “I stuck out my tongue at his retreating back because that’s what classy, mature women did when their husbands irritated them.” At the first meeting of the book club, Livvy, necessarily self-conscious, reflects “They’d think I was a lunatic for sure, and that would be before they discovered that I talked to myself.” 

The writing style, the controlled use of language and the twists and turns of Livvy’s life lured me back to the book every free minute. Development from suspicion to discovery and the revelation of the “problem” kept me reading and keep me thinking about Livvy long after the last page has been turned.

On the whole, an excellent read. Wright has crafted a tight, interesting, insightful novel. I wanted little things tweaked a bit more. For example, I wanted more detail in the setting (I know Newport Beach, California) and more insights into the books discussed in book club, and I’m looking forward to the next three books about the Newport Ladies Book Club which will surely bring me some of that.

Bamma's Book Club

Last week I started Bamma's Book Club.

We have a couple of reluctant readers in our group. I suppose those are the ones I'm targeting the most, but really I want them all to read.

• I printed up a couple of pages of favorite books for each age and asked them to help me make the list longer
• I brought out favorite books from my shelf that their mother and father loved
• I told them I'd pay them each $10 for one finished book during a month
• I offered the $10 to their parents as well

For the 3-7 year olds the money seems like a lot. For the 10-12 year olds the money seems like a nice perk. For the 14-year-old the money isn't incentive enough to spend time reading.

I know a 7-year-old and a 12-year-old have already finished their book for the month. We'll let you know what happens with everybody else.

Bambi's relatives

I live in a well established neighborhood with all the usual cars and trucks and families. Deer live here, too. This is a mountain side, but still I am surprised after all this civilization time that the deer really live here in our midst.

For the past month or so I've been aware that a mother deer lives in the thicket of oak brush just across a busy street. This year she has twin babies. Two small replicas of herself with dappled backs that look like the sunlight pours onto them through the trees even when they are out of the thicket.


She must have kept them hidden for weeks, because they already have a bit of size to them. What is it about two of them that makes them so much more intriguing? In fact, yesterday, just happening to look out my front window, I see the mother and both fawns cross the street and linger on our side to feed on the neighbor's grass. They are so beautiful that the next two cars come to a complete stop just to look at them. I see the passengers in the cars pointing and talking and being sure little people within see them, too.

When the resident deer eat my tulips to the ground, leave droppings across my yard, bound through my pristine snowscapes, I sometimes think they are a nuisance. But when I see two babies with lengthening adolescent legs back and forth from the thicket to the yards I worry about that busy street and the cars that whiz up and down this hill will someday intersect. I hope not.

In the balance of things I am grateful for their presence, their beauty, their promise. I hope they stay.

Family Reunion

We go to Beaver to the Family Reunion, gathering together on my father's mountain as we have for nearly 40 years. This year, for most of us, it is a night or two under the pines. Other years it has been several days.


Only four of us siblings remain--our mother dead more than 45 years, our father gone from us 6 years now, our sweet stepmother most recently departed 4 years ago, our other two sisters gone 17 years and 61 years. The other four of us are there, two brothers, two sisters, and some of each of our descendants down to third and fourth generations.


Everything is just as my father would have ordered it. Weather with bright clear summer skies, a snowbank nearby for making ice cream, a view of DeLano with green velvet growing right to the top, the double bare peaks of Baldy behind, deer wandering close enough to show the smallest child up close, wildflowers blooming all across the meadows in yellows and pinks and blues. We are above 10,000 feet here, nestled in the heart of these magnificent mountains where we spent summer evenings growing up, always connected with being together as a family.


This place makes me. . .makes me. . .think of my father. This place exemplifies his giving to us much of what he knew mattered most. Family, relationships, independence, learning to live on the land, all surrounded with his high respect for nature and beauty and wildness, and animals, and the God who created it all for us. . .for us! We are most blessed.


The highlight--outside the several side conversations with this niece or that nephew--is the Saturday midday meal and the family meeting that follows. This year the food is terrific. My father said   when you eat on the mountain the food is always terrific. The meeting is interesting, each family reporting  on each descendant, catching up on what is happening, who is struggling, who is triumphing.


Strangely, this year the world intrudes. The Sheriff's Department comes to tell us to be careful on the roads on Saturday. It seems they are holding a long distance bike race--some 70 miles--from downtown Beaver, up the mountain, over the hill down to the other side then coming along the road by us here on Big Flat and finishing  at the ski resort a couple of miles down the canyon. What? The Tours de Beaver?


Later in the afternoon, as we leave, we pass several of those bikers with their beautiful bikes, professional bike suits, and protective helmets. Amazing. I look at them as we pass them and wonder what drives someone to do that kind of hard thing.

I come away cheering, really, grateful for this family in spite of our particular foibles. Mostly grateful for the fine growing upness I see in young people, grateful for the steadfastness of those a bit more mature, the presence of everyone who chooses to come to be together, glad for our parents who loved this place. Blessings.

Elsa's book

When each grandchild turns 5, they can write their first book with me. Elsa is grandchild number eight, and her book is at the printer as we speak. One more book to go, Liesel turns 4 in September.

The process is delightful. First we talk about what the author-child want to write about. Sometimes I have to encourage in a specific way because of the season, or the setting, or the possible characters.

Next the author-child tells me the story while I capture it in the computer. Along the way I ask questions like, "Why didn't Peter Pan want to grow up?" or "What does a gooey goo look like?" They always know the answers to my questions and I incorporate that into the story.

Then we take pictures. The author-child is always the main character and siblings, cousins, and sometimes parents are the other characters. The author-child also draws pictures of the characters.

Then it is time for me to choose and PhotoShop the photographs, color in the drawings, and enter it all into Quark or InDesign. Ah, the marvels of technology.

I used to print my own copies on an InkJet printer. I had to spray the pages with hairspray-like protectant, realizing little children sometimes turn pages with saliva-soaked fingers. Then I found a local printer who uses a big press with excellent color that doesn't run and I now hire him to print and cut the pages.

In my workshop in the basement I bind as many copies of the book as I want (other grandparents love to get copies) and I deliver the book in a wrapped-up package to the author-child. Oh, the joy of having your very own book that you wrote.

The Princess and the Frog

Here is a peek at Elsa's cover picture. Hope you like it.

Yay! A Project Finished

More than 30 years ago I began writing Tula, a story about growing up in Beaver, Utah. I used an electric typewriter and worked a whole summer on developing different adventures for Tula every day. Way led on to way, life happened, we moved, and with one thing and another, laid Tula aside.


Three years ago, in the summer of 2008, I went searching for Tula in the file, the boxes, the carryall. Couldn't find her. But I did find notes of subjects I wrote about as well as a list of others I intended to write about. So I broke them out and set to seriously writing about Tula again.


That summer I went to a writers' conference and came away eager to return to Tula and her adventures.  Almost a year later I had 100,000 words which I passed out to a few friends who graciously read them, responded quite positively, but were certainly not jumping up and down for joy.


I wasn't far enough along to seek publication and had to set Tula aside again because of commitments I made to a year-and-a-half project abroad.


In August of 2010 I returned and picked up Tula. With my computer and a shorter wait in between, she was easier to find this time. I poured over all 100,000 words and found her dull, uninteresting, downright boring. No wonder my friends had not been greatly enthusiastic! I wasn't either.


A few weeks later I decided--against all advice from the writers' conference--to change Tula's point of view from third person to first person. Suddenly she came alive.


The work was just like starting over. Changing point of view isn't just adjusting the verbs. It is insights, feeling, fears, hopes, dreams, as well as conversations and  relationships. Working nearly every day it took me almost 8 months to get Tula into first person.


That's the project finished this week.


All eight months of rewriting I knew she was stronger, more interesting, more delightful.


Just to check out my thinking I farmed the finished manuscript out to four friends to read. The reviews were positive, delightful, "couldn't put it down" types of comments. I wanted to dance like Snoopy on his doghouse!


This time I'm moving on to the next step. No matter what else happens, I learned a great deal more about writing and I finished! That makes the whole thing sweeter this time.


Hurrah for finishing!