Happy Birthday to Me...The Song
To mark my 26th birthday, here is a personal essay I wrote a few years ago about my life's desire.
Read MoreTo mark my 26th birthday, here is a personal essay I wrote a few years ago about my life's desire.
Read More
Wait, isn’t that the term you use for new arrivals, as in babies? If so, my title is appropriate, because the publication of a debut novel follows much of the same pattern as having your first baby. From conception, through the anxiety and joy-filled thoughts of motherhood, to the impatient anticipation of the big day, not quite sure exactly when that will be, or what it will be like. The agonizing pains of labor, the sweat, the tears, the fear. And then…it’s all over. You hold the newborn book, uh, baby in your arms at last.
No, I’ve never had a baby. No, I’ve never published a novel. But my friend has. (Just the latter, of course!)
Without further rabbit trail hopping, I’d like to announce the publication of The Kingmakers, by Serafia Cross. I couldn’t be more excited for my dear friend. She has worked so consistently on drafting and editing this novel series, The Last King of Legends, it puts me to shame. Visit her website www.SerafiaCross.com for details on the series and an excerpt from the novel.
In 1174 King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem is thrust into power at age thirteen. Only a few individuals know his greatest secret—he is a leper. Despite all their training and abilities, they cannot teach him to live long, so they teach him how to reign great and craft a king myths are made of—a king history almost forgot. They are The Kingmakers to The Last King of Legends.
Book One, The Kingmakers, is now available. Get a copy.
‘Nuff said.
For Him,
Sarah Elisabeth
There I sat, kayak turned backwards at the top of three tiers of rocks. The chilly water rushed over the front, filling my seat and soaking me. I was stuck.
We started the day looking for a mix of relaxation and adventure. There were nine of us in all, including my mom, Lynda Kay, and my brother, Jon. The event took a flurry of phone calls, texting and a few weeks to pull together, but the caravan of two packed cars was ready to go early Saturday morning, September 10. Destination: Mountain Fork River, Broken Bow, Oklahoma.
Being the adventurous group we were, guys in the majority, we couldn’t settle for just a paddle down the little rapids, cruising the four miles. No. We had to paddle upstream. And flip kayaks, accidently and intentionally. And drag our boats overland to catch every fun fall at least twice. Then someone spotted the rope swing.
Because of my now fatigued state, they were able to talk me into doing it. But as soon as my full, uh, weight, hit my hyper flex shoulders, I let loose with a yelp and lost my grip on the knot I was instructed to hold onto. But wow. Somehow the drop into the icy river water was fun.
Now back to those three tiers of rocks. The awkward position I found myself in was the only time I was stumped in what to do. If I could shove myself off the rocks, another two foot drop awaited behind me, with a boulder not five feet away. I thought about stepping out, and try turning my kayak. But the incredible rush of water gave me pause. I could only count on one good knee. Besides, as soon as I stood, my weight-free kayak would likely shoot off down river.
When I’m stuck in such a helpless situation, there’s only one thing to do. Await rescue. This came in the form of my muscular brother, Jon, who braved the rushing water and slippery rocks to lift the front of my kayak, me and all, and turn it so I could take the last drop front ways. Yes, it required skill and technique to maneuver the rest of the boulders on that little bit, but I was up for it. Hey, it wasn’t my first rodeo.
But how funny is that compared to life? Stuck on the rocks, facing the wrong way, with cold water and boulder threats adding to the misery. Out of control, hopeless, and despair are some words that come to mind. But sometimes we just need to sit tight. Help is on the way, because there is a Friend that sticks closer than a brother.
For Him,
Sarah Elisabeth
Prov. 18:24
When I first jumped into the FaithWriters.com Weekly Challenge, I adored comments from the “Masters.” One of those being Jan Worgul Ackerson.
Jan recently started a blog titled, One Hundred Words. I’ve wanted to feature it for awhile, so…I am.
“Is it possible to capture a character in one hundred words? To suggest, in just a few sentences, an entire plot? When I realized that I'd never be a novelist, that's the challenge I decided to embrace.” Jan Worgul Ackerson
SARAH: When did your writing career begin?
JAN: I started blogging (a now-defunct blog) in 2002, after a pretty traumatic event in our family. I thought it would be good therapy, both emotional and spiritual, and it was. In 2005, I joined FaithWriters.com an online site for Christian writers, and started entering their weekly Writing Challenge.
SARAH: What all does your writing encompass? And brag (humbly) about your services.
JAN: My writing love is fiction, and in particular, I like to write very short fiction (as you might have guessed). I find myself writing a lot about broken people—perhaps that's my way of becoming whole. But I also enjoy the occasional foray into humor. I hope my writing is literary, with a bit of an edge. I also have a small editing business: you can find Superior Editing Services on Facebook.
SARAH: How many flash fiction stories have you written? List your highest writing awards.
JAN: I've written over 250 flash fiction stories; you can find them at http://www.faithwriters.com/member-profile.php?id=11626. Two of those placed in the FaithWriters.com annual Best of the Best competition.
SARAH: Awesome! Where did you come up with the idea for One Hundred Words?
JAN: I'd been thinking about re-entering the blogosphere, but I wanted my blog to be different from so many that I see out there. Since I enjoy fiction so much, I thought first about writing little character studies. When I thought about how our attention span as a country is getting so much shorter (thank you, Twitter), I hit upon the idea of limiting myself to 100 words.
SARAH: Some people call this Micro Fiction. Do you have special plans for these micro flashes of genius (like a book) or are they strictly for the blog?
JAN: No immediate plans. If the blog should take off and my adoring public demands a book...we'll see!
SARAH: What do I need to know about your wonderful family?
JAN: I'm a retired teacher, married 36 years to the wonderful Ben. We have two married daughters, and an adorable granddaughter, Piper. Oh, and the cat. I can't forget to mention the cat.
SARAH: And your favorite One Hundred Word story is?
JAN: It's so HARD to pick a favorite, because they're all my babies. Do you have a favorite child? But if you forced me to pick one, I'd have to go with #7, because Carla is ME, and the story of the chubby waitress and the young man is one that I've always wanted to write.
SARAH: Loved that one too! Thanks for taking the time to chat with me, Jan.
It’s was hard for me as well, but here are my three favorite One Hundred Word stories:
23.
She never bothered with the equipment—the veiled hat, the smoker smelling of pine needles. The bees, she said, knew that her hands were gentle and that she was not prone to flailing about while she extracted the waxy, dripping frames.
The bees knew...
Shh, now, she said. Shh. She pulled a frame from the box hive and stood very still while the bees swarmed. She could feel a breeze from thousands of minuscule wings. When the buzzing abated, she set the frame aside, trapping one small bee against her wrist. I’m sorry, they murmured to each other as the stinger sank in.
21.
Patsy sees the lump on the road from far away, and the words dead possum flit through her consciousness. But as she gets closer, she sees that it’s not dead, it’s simply wounded.
...haunts her thoughts...
The unfortunate animal is ineffectually scrambling with its back legs. Briefly and ridiculously, Patsy considers taking it to a vet, and the animal haunts her thoughts all day. Such horrible suffering.
At home, she flicks on the television, eager to forget. I hope it wasn’t in pain. When the commercial comes on—the one with wide-eyed brown children—she changes the channel, with a grunt of irritation.
18.
Millie hadn’t sung in years, so she was delighted when she was tapped to join this choir. Once quite the singer, she’d toured Europe in college, where she had the soprano solo in Mendelssohn’s Lobgesang.
Her high G was effortless...
Her high G was effortless, and the audiences’ praise had sent a rush of heat deep into the vee of her draped black gown.
How Millie mourned those soaring high notes when her aged voice became a mere croak. Yet here she stood, excited, preparing to sing again. The song started:
Worthy is the Lamb…
Music reverberated off walls of jasper, chalcedony, emerald, and sapphire.
>>>
Hope you enjoy and become a subscriber of One Hundred Words.
For Him,
Sarah Elisabeth
In anticipating the Five Tribes Story Conference this week, I couldn't sum the importance of telling family stories better than this article by Jack Popjes: Notice, Remember, Tell.
For Him,
Sarah Elisabeth