KayeDacus.com

Here are a couple of funnies I saw today:

more funny cat pictures

more cute puppy pictures

What a glorious (though somewhat cold, at 43 degrees) day to celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus! In the pastor’s sermon this morning, he read a list he’d made of names/descriptions of Jesus starting with each list of the alphabet. I couldn’t write them all down, but loved the idea. Some of these will be what I remember from his list, some are from me.

Alpha and Omega (Revelation 1:8, 21:6, 22:13)

Bread of life (John 6:35)

Creator (John 1:3)

Deliverer (Romans 11:26)

Emmanuel (Matthew 1:23)

Fortress (Psalm 31:3)

Good Shepherd (John 10:11)

Holy One (Isaiah 49:7, Mark 1:24)

I AM (John 8:5

The Just One (Acts 7:52)

King of kings (I Timothy 6:15, Revelation 17:14, 19:16)

Lord of lords (I Timothy 6:15, Revelation 17:14, 19:16)

Messiah (Matthew 1:1, John 1:41)

Name above all names (Philippians 2:9)

Only begotten Son of God (John 3:16)

Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6)

Quickening Spirit (I Corinthians 15:45)

Reedemer (Psalm 19:14, Isaiah 54:5)

Savior (Psalm 62:7, Luke 2:30, Romans 10:13)

Truth (John 14:6)

Ultimate Sacrifice (1 Corinthians 5:7, Hebrews 10:12)

Victorious over death (Revelation 1:1

Word of God (John 1:1-3)

eXalted One (Acts 2:33, 5:31, Philippians 2:9, Hebrews 7:26 — I know, it’s a cheat, but really, do you want to call Jesus a xylophone or xanthophyll?)

Yahweh—who is, who was, and who is to come (Revelation 1:4)

Zealous (John 2:16-1

In honor of Maundy Thursday (and because I’ve been at church all evening), instead of writing a post, I thought I’d share a hymn that explains what this day is about.

John 15:9-15
Pilate answered them, saying, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he was aware that the chief priests had handed Him over because of envy.
     But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to ask him to release Barabbas for them instead. 
     Answering again, Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Him whom you call the King of the Jews?”
     They shouted back, “Crucify Him!”
     But Pilate said to them, “Why, what evil has He done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify Him!”
     Wishing to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas for them, and after having Jesus scourged, he handed Him over to be crucified.

O Sacred Head, Now Wounded
Paul Gerhardt, 1607-1676

O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners’ gain:
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain;
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
‘Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee.

Well, in a way. Last night, I had the thrill of attending The Rat Pack: Live at the Sands show at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. This is a stage show that reenacts the legendary performances of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. at the height of their careers.

The show, which is also known as The Rat Pack—Live from Las Vegas debuted in England in 2000 and toured for three years. When it opened at London’s Theatre Royal Haymarket in 2002, it was to sold-out audiences and rave reviews. The show set box office records with the highest-ever advance sales in one day at London’s Strand Theatre. It is now touring in the United States and is in Nashville this week.

The actors portraying Frank and Sammy were perfect in their roles—from their voices to their body language, to their mannerisms and looks. The actor who portrayed Dean Martin—my favorite singer—looked a little like him (although from the distance we were sitting away from the stage, could have passed for Ed Sullivan, too)—is not the actor who originated the role. While he had the speech pattern and body language down pat, he didn’t sound anything like Dean when he sang. He was a good singer, but just sounded nothing like Dean.

Having dead guys as my favorite singers, it’s hard to get to go see the music I love performed live by the performers I want to hear. So seeing this show gave me what might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience in a small way what it might have been like to see these legendary singers in their prime.

What made the evening even more fun is that I went with a new friend, Ruth. I met Ruth through the internet—saw where she had commented on someone’s blog, visited her myspace site and discovered not only does she live in the Nashville area, but that we have so many things in common—from our favorite movies, to the actors we adore, to the movies we obsess over. Over dinner, we both discovered in the other person someone we could talk about these favorites and passions that no one else in our lives has ever really understood—including this music and these singers. So sealing a friendship in addition to seeing the show made it a night to remember.

Train X leaves the station at 6 a.m. traveling 50 mph heading south. Train Y leaves the station at 6:30 a.m. traveling 60 mph heading north. How far apart are they at 7 a.m.? At 9 a.m.?

Remember those old word problems? I used to LOVE those when I was in school (just about the only part of math I liked were the logic/word problems). This weekend, I experienced a very strong reminder of why as writers, we need to hone all of our academic skills, including geography and especially math.

You see, I ended up writing myself into what became an algebraic word problem this weekend. I have three sets of travelers. The first (”A”), traveling in a carriage leaves Portsmouth at 2:00 a.m. traveling 4 mph. The second (”B”), on horseback, leaves at 4:00 a.m. traveling 7 mph. The third (”C”), traveling on horseback, leaves at 4:30 a.m. traveling 8 mph (better horses than “B”). When “B” catches up to “A” he leaves his horse for the comfort of the carriage. So “C” must still catch up with them, but now the task is easier because carriage “AB” is now traveling half “C’s” speed.

I found online an high-def, super-detailed historic map of Hampshire, England–complete with mileages written in along the major road that my characters would be traveling. I then wrote out the above information as a word problem worthy of the SAT or ACT. I ended up plugging all of the variables and formulas into an Excel spreadsheet and figued out how many miles it would take (allowing for a few stops along the way to water the horses or question innkeepers)–and applying that distance to the map discovered that it was the approximate distance between Portsmouth and Winchester–about 22-24 miles! And what a merry chase it was, too!

But, tonight I’m taking a break from my marathon of trying to get Ransome’s Honor finished (I’ve written about 20,000 words in the last 5-6 days). A friend and I are going to see the Rat Pack at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. Don’t believe me? Come back tomorrow and I’ll explain!

This weekend is Middle Tennessee Christian Writers’ monthly writing marathon where we spend the weekend focused on our writing–whether writing new material on a WIP (work in progress), plotting a new story, working on revisions or edits, or even working on submissions.

I have completed two chapters (one started earlier in the week) so far for a total of 5,936 words for the marathon, bringing the total wordcount of Ransome’s Honor up to 94,320 words! Granted this is over the industry standard of 90,000 for a mass market title, but there are places in the manuscript I know of where I can trim several thousand words (and maybe even one POV) later. Which is a good thing since I still have a long way to go with this one! It looks like I may end up with a final total of around 115-120,000 words.

All of that is to say that I will return to Showing vs. Telling next week–and will hopefully be able to TELL you that I am finished with Ransome’s Honor. If you haven’t already had a chance to post questions or post your examples on the SvT posts, now would be a good time–on Monday I plan to go through all of the comments and make sure that we’re still right on track. Also, don’t forget, joining in on the discussion puts your name in the “hat” for the drawing for the free copy of Stein on Writing, the best book on craft available!

Until then, cheerio, dear readers!

I worked in advertising sales for over 13 years before moving into the book publishing industry. The best manager I ever worked under had a saying: “Seven nos means a yes.” Meaning, most of the time, our sales reps would hear “No” at least seven times from just one customer before getting them to say “Yes.” They were selling a unique product: the only large daily newspaper in Nashville. But the retailers were also being pitched by all of the local TV stations, the cable and satellite providers, all of the radio stations, other small weekly newspapers, the sports teams/venues (for signage at the pro football stadium, hockey arena, or minor league baseball stadium). The most successful sales reps I worked with believed firmly in the value of our product, and kept going back again and again and again (and again) pitching different products or special sections, taking sales proposals that offered discounts, and trying to help the retailer to see the advantage in choosing to advertise in the newspaper instead of the graveyard slot on the most popular radio station in town. One of the most important things these successful sales reps did was to sit down early with the client and perform a Needs Assessment, finding out everything they could about the business and its needs for reaching customers.

As writers, we are sales people. While our product is different, we must believe in it. Learning craft and revising our manuscripts is like that Needs Assessment the sales reps did—finding out what the publishers are looking for by way of point of view, voice, style, genre, etc.—so that we have the strongest product on the market.

I have received my share of rejections—verbal and written, most in the form of critiques. I went through a secular creative writing graduate school program where my inspirational romance novel was critiqued each of the four semesters by other students, many who know little to nothing about the Inspirational romance genre and rank it lowest of the low (but without being mean spirited with their remarks). Rather than be hurt or offended by these mini-rejections, though, I learned to pay attention to them. If I was told my writing was too much telling and not enough showing, I studied that aspect of craft and worked on it. When I was told I needed to inject humor into my writing, I allowed myself to stop taking my characters and story so seriously and just have fun with them. When I was told my hero wasn’t likeable, I reworked him until he became a swoon-worthy romantic hero. When I was told by an atheist that he thought the spiritual element should be stronger, I REALLY paid attention :-).

Does that mean these rejections don’t sting initially? Of course not! I am by nature a hackles-up/defensive personality. But once I started learning how to separate myself emotionally from the piece being critiqued, I discovered that I actually appreciated all of the remarks—especially those that pointed out the weak spots and helped me see how to become a better writer. I wanted to know what was wrong with it so I could fix it! Now that I’ve graduated, I miss the thrill of wondering what the preacher-turned-agnostic horror writer is going to say about the prayer I include in the spiritual climax scene.

In September 2006, I had the opportunity to speak to two of the top agents in the Christian publishing industry at the ACFW conference in Dallas—each for just a few minutes right before the awards banquet which was all I was there for. Both issued an invitation for me to submit my proposal to them. Within two weeks, I had received a letter of rejection from Agent “A”—my very first ever because it was the first time I’d ever submitted my writing for anything other than contests or school. Initially, I was shocked—stung—by the negative feedback in it (that the humorous tone does not work, it’s too wordy, and I need to “increase the craft” of my writing). The shock came into play because for months leading up to this rejection, I had been sure this was the agent God had been telling me I needed to submit to. The next week, Agent “B”—the one whom I spoke to “on a whim” (hmmm . . .)—requested a full manuscript and wanted to “talk more.” (More info to come on that situation soon!)

I know that to be published means I will face a lot of rejection in the near future—rejections from publishers that may range from “thanks, but not interested” to those like the one I received from Agent A. But I also know that these rejections are only preparing me to be able to read a bad review of one of my books and just shrug my shoulders, knowing not everyone is going to like my stories—but that’s not a reflection of anything negative about ME as a person.

The writer who is not receiving rejections is the writer who is not submitting their writing anywhere. Writing is more than just pouring our hearts out in prose—it’s putting our hopes and dreams on the line by opening ourselves up to criticism and rejection.

Bring it on!

I was looking through some old files on my computer and discovered this poem I wrote as an assignment for a literature (believe it or not) class back in 1999.

Many a person has written a verse,
For love, for glory, or to fill a purse.
Some are inspired by Great Things above,
Some pour their hearts out with words of love.
Others may express a great thought or two,
(although not in these lines I have written for you).

It’s closing for me where the problem does lie,
So I ramble and maunder, then heave a big sigh,
And write no more lines for this place and time,
For it’s hard finding so many words that rhyme.

Almost six years ago, I purchased a large journal—about 1-inch thick with 8½x11-inch, lined pages—and I started journaling. Then, three years later, I stopped. I had never been consistent about writing in it every day, nor about what or how I would write. Sometimes it would be a prayer—my heart crying out to God in a moment of deep loneliness or despair. Sometimes, it was a collection of random thoughts or observations I’d made that day or week. There are pages of brainstorming of characters or storylines along with “letters” to my future husband. Several entries, like September 11, 2001, were written purposely to record my thoughts and feelings that I would want to remember later. But, for some reason, I just gradually stopped writing it.

At the beginning of this year, I started writing this blog. While I have blogged about some personal things—my search for a church home, my last week of grad school—I’ve tried to keep this blog writing related . . . I really do not feel the need to share my inmost thoughts with the world.

As a single person who lives alone and doesn’t have a lot of really close friends with whom I talk at length or in depth, I have found myself at times longing for someone to talk to about my frustrations after a tough day; my hopes and dreams for my life; my struggles with loneliness and aloneness; my tendency toward depression and negative feelings; my excitement over successes in my writing.

This past weekend, I was rummaging in the cabinet beside my bed looking for something when I ran across this journal. Over the next couple of hours, I traveled back through those three years of my life—my growing discontentment with my job at the newspaper, my pain and decision to have back surgery, my anxiety over figuring out what I was going to do about graduate school (would I have to move? would I be able to find a program which would allow me to write the stories of my heart rather than the superficial nonsense called “literary”?). I actually got a few ideas for a character I’m developing by reading some of my more random thoughts and observations!

And it hit me.

As most of my entries included—even at a subconscious level—a prayer, this had been my outlet for having Someone to share my life with. So I’ve made a commitment to myself to start journaling about things that I need to express to Someone—and things I can’t post here like religion and politics so I don’t scandalize my loyal readers☺—or brainstorming story ideas, odd or unusual things I observe around me, my struggles, my hopes and dreams.

Do you journal? Why? Do you ever go back and re-read them years later? Or once you write it, do you put it out of your mind? And do you ever allow yourself to wonder if, in 200 years, people will be studying your journal in high school or college courses the way we now read the letters and diaries of people like politicians, authors, or historic figures?

Okay, so much for the “no distractions” part of the evening. I arrived home from work at the beginning of the storm that was the same system that hit St. Louis a couple of days ago. Which meant NO ELECTRICITY. But, I sat on the front porch with my laptop computer—I was going to review the chapter I finished this afternoon and then get down to the serious business of writing.

After TEN MINUTES the laptop’s battery died. I didn’t even get to page 5 in reading the last chapter!

So, I went to a movie instead. I went to see M. Night Shyamalan’s Lady In The Water—wow! What a fabulous movie. And now I’m home, so I’m going to grab a quick bite to eat and then get down to the business of W-R-I-T-I-N-G.

Oh, and one more thing . . . I got the August issue of Singing News magazine in the mail today—and the cover story was written by ME! Yep, that’s right. My cover story article is in the August issue of the magazine.