I'm going to be sad when the #playproject ends, @annkroeker. I think I'm hooked enough to do it all year.

A photo posted by Callie Feyen (@calliefeyen) on Jan 25, 2016 at 10:49am PST

Others played with their food, like Lisa Taylor Phillips and Laura Lynn Brown.

I said I'd invent a soup this week. It's not a soup, but it is Last of the Rotisserie Chicken, End of an Onion, Mushrooms and Pitas on Sale, Moderately Spiced Pita Pockets. #playproject #playingwithmyfood #ludwigfilter

A photo posted by Laura Lynn Brown (@llbrownie) on Jan 26, 2016 at 5:12pm PST

Like I said, I didn’t lead this project by undertaking big, audacious activities like I intended, but maybe my meager, modest ideas quietly reminded people to break away from the hustle and strain of life’s burdens to do something playful.

Maybe this month some people slipped away for two hours to watch a movie or 20 minutes to bake some cookies. Maybe they experimented with a new app or played Settlers of Catan with friends. Maybe they danced, colored some poems, created some art, explored a new neighborhood, toured a museum, or wrote a short story.

Maybe they learned, like I did, that regardless of our challenges and limitations, we can pause…to play.

* * *

Since I was a teen, C. S. Lewis’s words have influenced my mind, my faith. I’m so grateful to hear his voice for the first time.

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – January 2016, Play Project Wrap-up appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

He assures those who scoff at the thought of active play in the life of an adult, “We don’t need to play all the time to be fulfilled. The truth is that in most cases, play is a catalyst. The beneficial effects of getting just a little true play can spread throughout our lives, actually making us more productive and happier in everything we do” (7).

This motivated me to find “just a little true play” for each day of the month ahead—the Play Project doesn’t have to involve week-long endeavors or all-day outings. Even the tiniest break in the day can open up a few minutes to do one word search, color just a few areas in a coloring book, or take a single snapshot.

The consequences of eliminating play from our busy days that carry such weight of responsibility lead to us being stuck in our ways. Dr. Brown writes:

If we stop playing, we share the fate of all animals that grow out of play. Our behavior becomes fixed. We are not interested in new and different things. We find fewer opportunities to take pleasure in the world around us. (71)

To avoid becoming fixed in your behavior, get up and move. Try something new. Play.

Not long ago, I watched Dick Van Dyke stay playful, dancing and moving and laughing:

In an NPR interview, he advises:

Oh yeah they caught me tap dancing out here in the lobby here – nice marble floor. Everyone should dance. And everyone should sing. People say, “Well, I can’t sing.” Everybody can sing. That you do it badly is no reason not to sing….The point is to enjoy. You have to pick what you enjoy doing, what fulfills you, what interests you….almost anyone can find that one immersing hobby or pastime that they love to do.

Tap dancing in the lobby, singing, laughing…Dick Van Dyke is Exhibit A, supporting Dr. Stuart Brown’s conclusion:

Play is how we are made, how we develop and adjust to change. It can foster innovation and lead to multibillion-dollar fortunes. But in the end the most significant aspect of play is that it allows us to express our joy and connect most deeply with the best in ourselves, and in others. If your life has become barren, play brings it to life again. (218)

* * *

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – December 2015, Planning for Play appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

If you want to be productive, you must embrace the power of scheduling your tasks. You have two main tools that help you do this: your to-do list and your calendar.

Your to-do list is the place where you define and organize what you’re going to do.

Your calendar is used to identify when you’re going to do those things and how much time is needed to complete them.

When you schedule appointments in your calendar, you’re saying to yourself: “I’m going to do A, B and C by X date and it’s going to take Y hours.”

Once you make this promise, it becomes harder to procrastinate.

You will find you are less impulsive as you’ve planned out your time.

As a consequence, you will get more work done.

When the calendar alerts pop up on my phone, I tackle the task. It’s like having a personal assistant in my purse.

Minor points out that when you have blank space on your calendar, you can enjoy guilt-free play time to do something like draw on Silk (utterly mesmerizing, and quite playful).

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – November 2015, Trying to Focus appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

I’m interrupting my Write in the Middle series to bring you this month’s Curiosity Journal. Years ago I published the journal weekly, but when I brought it back in August, I realized a monthly roundup made more sense. So today, at the end of October, I invite you to peek inside as I document this month’s six areas that ignite a curious mind: learn, read, write, play, try, listen.

* * *

1. Learn

Although Dani Shapiro wrote this blog post back in July, I’ve referred to it several times in the past month. I love the word she landed on to describe what she writes and how she approaches writing. She explains:

Lately people have been asking me what I’m working on. A perfectly reasonable question, though one that strikes terror and dread in the hearts of most writers. If we’re not in the midst of a book, the question makes us feel guilty and fretful. If we are in the midst of a book, we need to find ways of answering in a way that doesn’t take away from the work itself … what I’ve arrived at is this: I’m writing an Inquiry.

Inquiry is rooted in curiosity, lifelong learning, searching. Shapiro says, “Everything I’ve ever written might be described as an inquiry.” That’s curiosity at work, and it’s how I, too, approach writing and life.

“I write in order to discover what I don’t yet know,” Shapiro says. “To peel back the layers and see what has been previously hidden from view.”

By approaching both her fiction and nonfiction work as inquiry, she stays open to new ideas, fresh angles, new insights … about the subject, about the world, about herself.

“And so, when I’m asked,” she writes, “I now respond that I’m writing an inquiry into marriage and time … How do we find the right words to describe what we’re doing? Because when we land on them, we know they’re true.”

* * *

2. Read

One of my goals is to enjoy and curate good content to share on my Facebook page and Twitter feed. At the same time, I’m always working through at least one book (usually more). Since you can easily click through my Facebook and Twitter feeds to browse what’s there, I’ll focus on some of the books I’m digging into.

Right now, I’m celebrating Deidra Riggs‘ book Every Little Thing: Making a World of Difference Right Where You Are. She inspires with humor and compassion, launching with a written version of her TEDxLincoln story. You can watch her tell it here, but don’t miss the book’s introduction. It’s brilliant.

Let Deidra help you see how you can make a difference every day, even if you feel like you’re just a cubicle worker, lawn mower, pancake flipper or one-mile jogger. “This book,” she writes, “is the story of how God is in control of our lives, even when we think we’ve got things under control.” Take the step, or the leap, whichever it may be. Maybe the first step to making a world of difference is to invite Deidra to cheer you on?

T. S. Poetry Press, which published On Being a Writer, came out with a follow-up to its popular title How to Read a Poem. This time around, author and poet Tania Runyan instructs us on How to Write a Poem. Both books—highly recommended resources for creative writing instructors at both the high school and university levels—are based on the Billy Collins poem “Introduction to Poetry.” I enjoyed following Megan Willome’s posts as she worked through the book, writing and revising a poem of her own along the way.

Mary Karr’s recent release The Art of Memoir, which I’ve just started, looks to offer insights and instruction with sass. As I dive in, I’m planning to invite people to join me for a casual book discussion over at my Facebook page. Would you be interested?

Here are some glimpses into The Art of Memoir:

A believable voice notes how the self may or may not be inventing reality, morphing one’s separate “truths.” Most of us don’t read the landscape so much as we beam it from our eyeballs.

She writes:

A memoirist’s nature—the self who shapes memory’s filter—will prove the source of her talent. By talent, I mean not just surface literary gifts, though those are part of the package, but life experience, personal values, approach, thought processes, perceptions, and innate character.

And this:

A great detail feels particular in a way that argues for its truth. A reader can take it in. The best have extra poetic meaning. In some magic way, the detail from its singular position in a room can help to evoke the rest of the whole scene…. The great writer trolls the world for totemic objects to place on a page. In every genre, it’s key.

Finally, The Situation and the Story: The Art of Personal Narrative, by Vivian Gornick, has been recommended by several people and I love the glimpses I snatched while flipping through:

In nonfiction, the writer has only the singular self to work with. So it is the other in oneself that the writer must seek and find to create movement, achieve a dynamic. Inevitably, the piece builds only when the narrator is involved not in confession but in this kind of self-investigation, the kind that means to provide motion, purpose, and dramatic tension. Here, it is self-implication that is required.

And this:

That idea of self—the one that controls the memoir—is almost always served through a single piece of awareness that clarifies only slowly in the writer, gaining strength and definition as the narrative progresses…. The question clearly being asked in an exemplary memoir is “Who am I?” Who exactly is this “I” upon whom turns the significance of this story-taken-directly-from-life? On that question, the writer of memoir must deliver. Not with an answer but with depth of inquiry.

Inquiry. There is it again.

* * *

3. Write

Have you written a personal manifesto? The author of that article says your manifesto is:

…a declaration of your life principles…. It may not necessarily reflect how you view yourself right now. You may be experiencing challenges in your career, relationships and with self-esteem, but your manifesto is not these issues—it’s the person you are underneath them…our manifesto becomes a written expression of that to serve as a reminder and compass in our lives. It guides our decisions and is a safe place to return in times of trouble when we may have forgotten who we are.

A related kind of self-inquiry comes from James Clear, who recommends selecting about five values from this list of core values and focus on those to guide aspects of our lives. Each year, he writes an “Integrity Report,” summarizing how each of those values played out over the course of 12 months.

He answers three questions in his reports and invites readers to do the same:

1. What are the core values that drive my life and work?
2. How am I living and working with integrity right now?
3. How can I set a higher standard in the future?

While in this self-reflective mode, I was intrigued with the idea of crafting a Unique Selling Proposition, or USP, for myself as a writer and coach, and for the various projects I produce, such as books and podcasts.

An author at The Write Life writes, “To stand out and make an impact, you have to differentiate yourself…In marketing parlance, you need what’s called a Unique Selling Proposition (USP). It’s being able to answer the question, ‘What problem can I solve for my client in my own, special way?’”

Copyblogger says to think of your USP is as a “remarkable benefit.” Through blogging, a writer, consultant, or coach can use the power of story, over time, to position herself with this proposition. Copyblogger suggests writing a practice sales letter “that will help you focus in on exactly why you are in business and what you have to offer. It will also tell you exactly how best to blog in support of your business.”

First, ask yourself, “What is it that you offer customers or clients that your competitors do not?”

Next, ask, “[I]s what you came up with newsworthy? Is it so remarkable that you could you get free publicity because of it, say from your local newspaper?”

If the paper would write something up about you, “What kind of headline would the newspaper article carry when writing about you?”

Then Copyblogger recommends the mock sales letter continue with a brief story or anecdote illustrating the benefit in that headline, such as a client’s outstanding results due to your newsworthy, remarkable work. Follow that with benefits from working with you—what you’ll do for the customer or client that is exciting enough for them to take action—and finish with how you’ll fulfill the headline’s promise.

Then give the reader a specific call to action.

When you’re all done writing your letter, ask this:

“Would you buy from you, knowing what you know about best practices in your industry?”

* * *

4. Play

My schedule and responsibilities make it challenging to play as much as I might like, so I settle for the simplest moments. I rarely watch TV, but to spend time with my kids, I stepped away from my work a few times this month and joined them on the couch to watch their favorite shows on Netflix (“The Flash,” “White Collar,” and “The Office”).

And this past week, I went to the zoo with two of my kids: my just-turned-20-year-old daughter, and my 14-year-old son. We all three rode the carousel.

* * *

5. Try

Writers have to try different techniques as they work to develop a voice. In his 99U article “The 4 Phases of Developing Your Creative Voice,” Todd Henry writes, “Your voice is the confluence of inspiration, dedicated practice, and strategic risk.”

Your voice is how you’re recognized by others. It’s the tone your collective body of work takes, and it speaks to your values and the unique perspective and skill you bring to the work. However, this individual perspective is often forged over time as you follow the inspiration of your influences, engage in intentional practice, and commit to leaps of intuition.

He identifies four phases a writer goes through, trying different styles—even imitating at times—in order to arrive at his or her own distinct voice:

1. Discovery Phase: “[W]hen you suddenly become fascinated with an idea or a new direction for your work, but you don’t yet have a clear path forward. In this phase, it’s important to identify the small, obtainable skills that could become the building blocks of growth.”
2. Emulation Phase: “Many artists have honed their unique voice through a strategic regimen of emulation. By mimicking the work of their influences, they were able to build a basic platform of skills necessary to eventually branch out and explore new territory.”
3. Divergence Phase: “You diverge from the prescribed path, and create uniquely identifiable work as you begin to take more intuitive risks and leaps with your work.”
4. Crisis Phase: “Once you become known for something, it’s tempting to begin to protect the thing you’re known for…. Things that once felt risky are commonplace, and what used to vex you is now second nature. In short, you’re a little bored and stuck. The key to moving beyond this phase is to re-cycle through the phases of growth, and seek new inspiration to emulate and incorporate into your work.”

I’ve moved through those phases more than once and feel Henry has landed on an interesting way to trace where we’ve been and decide what we might try next. He’s saying it’s a process, a cycle, a commitment.

Try to identify which phase you’re in and what you can do next to hone your voice.

* * *

6. Listen

I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts and webinars, videos and scopes. I love learning from all these presenters and I’ve taken copious notes, but tonight I sat and talked for a long time after dinner with my husband and son. I always want to be learning, but listening to people I love? That’s the best listening of all.

* * *

I’ve always valued, even nurtured, a healthy, holy curiosity that tends to stretch me, surprise me, and lead me to a more creative and productive life. Tracking the month’s curiosity discoveries reminds me to stay open, ask questions, try new things, play, and pass along my discoveries to others.

Images with words created by Isabelle Kroeker.

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – October 2015, Inquiry appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Years ago I published a weekly Curiosity Journal. An autodidact’s journal. A lifelong learner’s exploration. A commonplace book. This time around, the Curiosity Journal will come out monthly, documenting six areas that ignite a curious mind: learn, read, write, play, try, listen.

* * *

1. Learn

Curious people inevitably become lifelong learners. I love learning new things, whether knowledge, trivia, insight, or skills. 

“Why People Who Take Notes All the Time Are More Likely To Be Successful” reminded me to pull out a pen and paper and take notes while listening to podcasts, watching TED talks, attending lectures, and reading. Especially when listening, the mere act of writing down the main points or thoughtful quotes helps preserve them in my mind as well as on paper. Depending on the type of information and how I might use it, my notes might live physically on note paper tucked into file folders, digitally on my computer or in Google Drive, scribbled into my bullet journal or commonplace book, or typed up right here in my curiosity journal.

Speaking of journals, Slate article “Surprise!” claims the most important skill in science or self-improvement is noticing the unexpected and keeping a journal to document our moments of surprise. That one habit can help us overcome our tendency to make assumptions and look for anecdotes and data to support our assumptions:

We’re all captives of one of the most well-established errors in human reasoning, called confirmation bias: our tendency to focus on evidence that confirms our prior expectations. Once our minds alight on a theory, our impulse is to reassure ourselves it’s true, not set out to disprove it…. In other words, we need to actively look for signs that our assumptions are wrong, because we won’t do so unprompted. One such sign, scientists have suggested, is the feeling of surprise.

The author quotes from psychologist Daniel Gilbert’s book Stumbling on Happiness: “Brains are continuously making predictions…. Surprise tells us that we were expecting something other than what we got, even when we didn’t know we were expecting anything at all.”

Simply paying more attention to something that grabbed our attention can help us learn something about ourselves or the world around us. They recommend a three-step process for journaling our surprise, using student examples. I’m particularly impressed with this one:

The article ends with a quote from Isaac Asimov:

The most exciting phrase to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not “Eureka!” but “That’s funny…”

* * *

2. Read

I’ve recently switched to Feedly to collect and organize RSS feeds. I spend a few minutes every day or every other day skimming titles and summaries, saving the most promising articles to Pocket, to read more slowly later. My goal is to enjoy and curate good content to share on such places my Facebook page or the On Being a Writer Facebook page, which my coauthor Charity Singleton Craig contributes to, as well. But if you really want to know what I’m reading, my Twitter feed is the best place to start.

* * *

3. Write

“Write it out. Tell the truth. Stack up the pages. Learn to write by writing.” This advice comes from Ann Patchett’s essay “The Getaway Car,” found in her book This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage. “Why is it that we understand playing the cello will require work, but we attribute writing to the magic of inspiration?”

If we want to write, she says, we have to write. This is not news, but it is reality that bears repeating because for some reason, many of us still hope for that “magic of inspiration” instead of dedicating ourselves to the hard work of practice.

“If you want to write,” Patchett says, “practice writing. Practice it for hours a day, not to come up with a story you can publish, but because you long to learn how to write well, because there is something that you alone can say. Write the story, learn from it, put it away, write another story.”

Are you facing internal resistance to doing the work of writing? Are you wondering if you have it in you? Or, as Patchett asks, “Do you want to do this thing?” If the answer is yes, here’s Patchett’s advice:

Sit down and do it. Are you not writing? Keep sitting there. Does it not feel right? Keep sitting there. Think of yourself as a monk walking the path to enlightenment. Think of yourself as a high school senior wanting to be a neurosurgeon. Is it possible? Yes. Is there some shortcut? Not one I’ve found. Writing is a miserable, awful business. Stay with it. It is better than anything in the world.

I want to do this miserable, awful thing, so I’m staying with it.

I hope you do, too.

Patchett, Ann. This is the Story of a Happy Marriage. HarperCollins Publishers: New York, 2013. Print. (Library)

* * *

4. Play

Back when the kids were young and our homeschool approach included many creative elements, I used to keep a nature journal along with the kids. We’d draw leaves and pine cones and trees and flowers. As the kids grew older and their science classes at our co-op relied more on textbooks, we stopped maintaining nature journals.

In my Feedly reading this month, I came across an article exploring the forgotten benefits of drawing as part of learning. It made me wish my kids’ high school science classes had incorporated more drawing:

Biological Illustration courses are not new. They’re taught in art colleges all over the world. My course, though, is a biology class.

Creating a high-quality scientific illustration requires a thorough understanding of biological processes, anatomy, and structural diversity. A major part of learning to identify birds, insects or plants is knowing the key structures to focus on. Comparing limb bones among vertebrates requires an understanding of skeletal anatomy and evolutionary shifts. Biological illustration requires biological knowledge.

[…]

In my class, we combine biological knowledge and observational skills each week. After covering a topic in lecture, students then select their own specimens to illustrate during the lab/studio time.

The results are spectacular. Students love it, feel engaged and involved, and take pride in their work – not because it’s worth a grade, but because they struggle, push themselves, and end up with a brilliant payoff.

Though this could easily fit under the “Learn” category, I realized while reading this article on Biological Illustration, maybe I could revive my nature journal as a fun play project for October.

An article on ways to spark your sense of wonder offered advice that also took me back to my earlier homeschooling days. “Seek out displays of mastery and genius,” the author suggests. “Slow down,” and “Change your lenses.” He writes:

We refer to the “sense of wonder” because the senses play such a vital role, and you can greatly extend your senses, and thus your apprehension of wonders, by utilizing new lenses—magnifying glasses, binoculars, microscopes, telescopes, amplifiers, stethoscopes.

A simple magnifying glass can transform a sprinkling of sand on the palm into a field of boulders, and the bark of a tree into a maze of canyons. Through any schoolkid’s microscope, you can marvel at the squirming animalcules in your own spit, or the wigglyworms and flagellates in a drop of water from the birdbath out back.

I used to take the kids out with magnifying lenses to study something up close—in fact, someone sparked my own sense of wonder one summer when I was young by handing me a magnifying glass. I stared down at a patch of lawn, enchanted. I reminisced about it back in 2011.

I do think one of the great outcomes of wonder, curiosity and play is enchantment.

* * *

5. Try

“It takes only one class of art history to learn the basic tools of art interpretation and appreciation,” says Mark Joseph Stern in Slate article “Take a Good Look.” He continues, “College students should save themselves from a hollow future of art illiteracy by signing up.”

I don’t want to be “art illiterate.” I don’t want to be like the woman Mr. Stern watched “stop in front of Piet Mondrian’s Broadway Boogie Woogie, scoff, then turn on her heels and walk away.”

Once again, I reflected on our early home education days, when the kids and I looked at art together, especially paintings that I found in books and visits to art museums. My desire was for my kids to be comfortable making observations and engaging with art, so I didn’t feel the need to be an expert. I’d read a book or two on art history geared for young readers, like Sister Wendy’s Story of Painting and The Annotated Mona Lisa, but when it came to modern art, I felt confused and ignorant, afraid I might turn into the woman who turns on her heels and walks away from Broadway Boogie Woogie. Mr. Stern says:

A typical art history survey course spans several eras—often ancient to medieval, or Renaissance to modern—and strives to give students the tools to interpret art. You won’t come away from such a course with an encyclopedic knowledge of the differing styles of Venetian and Roman artists during the Italian Renaissance. You will, however, know how to walk into a museum, locate its Renaissance rooms, and scrutinize the canvases in an engaging and constructive way. You can look at the colors, the themes, the perspective, and find something smart to say about it. You can take pleasure in looking at and thinking about art—a process that’s both intellectually and emotionally gratifying.

I want to find something smart to say about art. I want to take pleasure in looking and thinking about art. I want tools to interpret art, from ancient and medieval all the way through to my weakest era: modern art. I browsed Coursera’s offerings and found a class on modern art. Though geared for teachers, I signed up. It would not provide me with a survey of art history, but it would help me engage with modern art, which is where I’m lacking.

I was delighted to see Broadway Boogie Woogie was one of the first works the Coursera class introduced. With help from experts from The Museum of Modern Art, I am trying to understand and appreciate modern art.

Magritte said of this, "Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see." #curiosity #lifelonglearning

A photo posted by Ann Kroeker (@annkroeker) on Sep 18, 2015 at 4:11pm PDT

* * *

6. Listen

I’m trying to listen to conversations in the news, in the world, in social media. In this section, I might share some responses to those big topics, but more likely I’ll share music or podcasts I’ve enjoyed, or a conversation that captured my imagination. I’m going to practice listening and share what I hear, because curious people learn to be attentive listeners.

This month, I listened to Elizabeth Gilbert’s podcast “Magic Lessons,” which she created as a way to explore ideas she presents in her just-released book Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear (which I have not read). One of my favorite episodes was the last, a conversation with Brene Brown, who has her own recent book release, Rising Strong (which I also have not read). Elizabeth and Brene are friends, so it’s charming to hear them interact. That episode (#12 Brene Brown on “Big, Strong Magic”) is filled with a range of insights and encouragement. A few naughty words slip out, so be warned and plan accordingly, but I found it a worthwhile investment of time.

* * *

I’ve always valued, even nurtured, a healthy, holy curiosity that tends to stretch me, surprise me, and lead me to a more creative and productive life. Tracking the month’s curiosity discoveries reminds me to stay open, ask questions, try new things, play, and pass along my discoveries to others.

Images with words created by Isabelle Kroeker,

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – September 2015 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

I’m resurrecting the Curiosity Journal I began years ago. An autodidact’s journal. A lifelong learner’s exploration. A commonplace book. The monthly Curiosity Journal will document six areas that ignite a curious mind: learn, read, write, play, try, listen.

* * *

1. Learn

I love learning new things, whether knowledge, trivia, insight, or skills. This month’s learning included advice from Andy Anderson, a centenarian highlighted in an article written by his great-granddaughter who interviewed him for the piece (though, actually, I’ve already learned these things and he merely articulated them).

Highlights:

1. Always maintain a good sense of humor.

8. Eat around the mold; don’t go wasting food.

9. Your family is the most precious thing you will ever have in life.

12. Don’t ever be afraid to be your true self.

14. You must be able to forgive, even if it’s difficult to do.

20. Education is important, but not necessary. Life can be an education in itself.

21. Explore your world and stay curious.

24. Have common sense. Think about the most reasonable answer to every situation. If you don’t have common sense, you’re a bust.

In addition to insights from Mr. Anderson, I’m learning how to use MailChimp, which is how you receive this when you sign up to receive blog posts and updates via email.

* * *

2. Read

“Scenes in a life are merely portals for understanding the greater thing, the invisible.” This line from Amber Haines‘ recently released Wild in the Hollow seems to capture her philosophy of memoir: use the scenes to understand the greater thing.

Multi-sensory description and metaphor invite the reader to observe intimate experiences—scenes—and their internal impact. Desire, loss, despair…she shares it straight, and she shares it slant.

I went out to see my oldest floating in brittle vines three stories over my head. I shook all over and felt the pressure build as I acclimated again to life with four sons. I talked him down. The suckle was parched in drought. Fear of the break knotted into my memory. I feared they would fall. I feared they would slip through my hands like undrunk water. I feared what I would make of the time I had.

She blends tangible and intangible, literal and metaphorical. The act of preserving through story this moment and so many others freezes them in time. She models a literary way to fight that fear of squandering the time we have, of living parched and brittle: Remember. Reflect. Write.

Themes wind through her stories like those brittle vines, reminders of the entangling of desire.

This is what I know of desire. Desire affects the whole person, mind, body, and soul. Desire is a drive. It is a hunger that opens its mouth. It is a dissatisfaction, a longing, a wintered beast of prey. It is the hand of Potipher’s wife for Joseph’s coat. It is madness for the harp of David.

Her pacing, her allusions, and her confessional approach lure us into the text, the story, the scenes. The work of memoir leads her to understanding the greater thing and she yearns for us to understand her, to join her—she beckons us to embrace the greater thing.

Like the heart prone to wander admitted in the hymn “Come Thou Fount,” Amber reveals her own wandering heart and that of her husband in aching lines:

Deeper into the bottle and deeper into my to-do lists and imaginary occasions to wear beautiful clothes, we engaged ourselves in an undoing, and with every undoing…I entered deeper inside myself, desire so muddy I didn’t know I wasn’t whole. I didn’t know I oozed with rage and isolated myself because of it. I didn’t know believers could live in a constant, shirking retreat of the soul.

She faces her soul that’s devolved into despair and finds the gift of living with sorrow.

[I] see that my striving against sadness had driven me to despair. In those days of gaining traction and remembering my gifts, I remembered the gift of suffering, of sharing in it with Christ, and how I was actually made to live close to sadness, to bear up under the yoke, because that yoke is with my Jesus, the man of sorrows. To reject the shared suffering and sorrow with our Lord is to invite despair, and to walk as a burden bearer with him is to oppose despair.

There is joy, too, and hilarity. She describes an early morning flight.

[T]he attendant offered me a drink, and with every intense ounce of my being, I asked for coffee. I may have grunted it, because she and the woman on my left bent their bodies in a knee-slapping laugh right to my face. I laughed, too, and then had to explain that I was a decade tired in the mother way. I said, “I have four sons!

The decade-weary mother of sons presents herself both strong and struggling, sinner and prophet, acquainted with sorrow and filled with laughter. Amber has unlatched a portal to her soul through this lyrical, vulnerable memoir.

* * *

3. Write

I love providing people with resources to be more curious, creative, and productive, so I enjoyed putting together a post packed with ways to generate writing ideas. My hope is that writers will tap into some of these and always have material to work with.

One of those methods has changed the way I close out my days. I now practice an evening reflection—an idea I got from professional storyteller Matthew Dicks. At bedtime, I think of the one story from the day that had the greatest meaning—something that made that particular day different from all the rest. Then I take just one to five minutes to write that story down. Dicks says if you write too much, you’ll start to feel overwhelmed and probably stop this valuable practice. If you keep it concise, though, with just enough detail to expand on later, you’ll collect rich material to work with when you want to say more.

He uses a spreadsheet with the dates down the side and a wide column for the stories. I like that method of logging them, and I’ve been reflecting daily—capturing “scenes,” to borrow Amber Haines’ word—and realize how days that seem to vary little actually offer unique stories I want to preserve. Not only do I have ideas to write about—I chronicle my days in a simple, sustainable way.

* * *

4. Play

It’s been a hard year. Play seems silly when dealing with heavy, draining, chaotic issues.

And yet play can breathe life and laughter into those heavy, draining, chaotic moments, making them bearable.

Last week some of the Tweetspeak Poetry team came to visit, and Charity Singleton Craig arranged for several delightful outings, including a walk through the design district of a nearby town, where we snapped photos with the lifelike statues, and a stop at the art museum, where our group spread out and toured the museum, discovering texture, color, and several surprises.

For as long as I’ve lived here, our museum has always been free. A few months ago, however, the museum announced it was switching to a membership model. I boycotted it, frustrated.

On the day Tweetspeak came to tour the grounds and museum, though, I caved. At the counter, I voiced my complaint. The woman said, “We couldn’t afford to continue.” I said, “Well, I used to come all the time, but I’ve been boycotting the place.” Then she pointed to a sale sign and said the premium membership has never been so low. I plunked down my credit card, investing in a membership that allows me to come back any time and bring friends.

I’ll be back.

With friends.

Because friends remind me to play.

* * *

5. Try

I encourage my writing coach clients to try new things. Experiment. They’ve tried systems that frustrate them (so they try something else) and others that right away fit well. By trying something new, they find themselves a little more organized and productive. Curious people are willing to try new things.

In the past, while experimenting with productivity, organizational and time management systems and philosophies, I tried the Getting Things Done® or GTD approach. I integrated many of David Allen’s ideas, including this simple question: “What’s the next action?” That question helps me break big writing projects into manageable chunks, prioritizing and ordering them as I go.

I’m trying another question these days. It complements David Allen’s question. It’s this: “What’s the best use of my time?” An equally simple question, but it reminds me to log off Facebook and stay on task with projects that lead me toward my goals.

While I’m on the subject of trying various productivity apps and systems…

• I tried Trello and left it behind.
• I tried Evernote, but it never clicked.
• I tried to try OneNote, but my phone didn’t have enough memory.
• I tried Google Keep, and it’s fine for quick and simple notes. I use it still.
• I tried Wunderlist for simple to-do lists. It served me for a year or two, but I outgrew it.
• So I tried Todoist, which I love.
• Google Calendar: yes.
• Google Drive Docs: yes.
• Google Drive Sheets: yes.
• Scrivener: Trying it now. Haven’t loved it, but haven’t given up yet. I’m really trying.
• Square: yes.
• MailChimp: yes.
• Hiveage: yes. It’s simple and for now, that’s all I need.

I also tried a high-tech standing desk. I wouldn’t want to use it all day every day, but maybe in the mornings it will help my brain get going and stay alert.

Testing out my high tech standing desk today, inspired by Darren Rowse of @digitalps – so far I like it for #writing and proximity to snacks here in the kitchen.

A post shared by Ann Kroeker (@annkroeker) on Aug 27, 2015 at 7:10am PDT

* * *

6. Listen

I’m trying to listen to conversations in the news, in the world, in social media. In this section, I might share some responses to those big topics, but more likely I’ll share music or podcasts I’ve enjoyed, or a conversation that captured my imagination. I’m going to practice listening and share what I hear, because curious people learn to be attentive listeners.

I followed along with Problogger’s 31 Days to Build a Better Blog podcast and recommend it to anyone who blogs. The 31 Days challenge ended, but you can find those episodes in the archives through iTunes and Stitcher. Not every idea will work for every blogger, but many of the challenges are worth trying.

Speaking of podcasts, I’m thrilled to share that you can subscribe to my podcast, “The Writing Life with Ann Kroeker,” with iTunes and Stitcher.

* * *

I’ve always valued, even nurtured, a healthy, holy curiosity that tends to stretch me, surprise me, and lead me to a more creative and productive life. Tracking the month’s curiosity journal entries reminds me to stay open, ask questions, try new things, play, and pass along my discoveries to others.

Photos of policeman statue taken by Sandra Heska King. Used with permission. Images with words created by Isabelle Kroeker.

* * *

The post Top 6 Curiosity Discoveries – August 2015 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Reading

Not much reading time available during this speech and debate tournament.

Playing

For my birthday last Friday, we ate at Noodles & Company where I ordered Pad Thai. Because of an unexpectedly long wait, they gave us free drinks.

When we came home, the family threw together chocolate fondue. My son stirred the chocolate and soy creamer for the sauce, the girls cut up fruit, and my husband squished together three marshmallows to hold up my birthday candle.

An amusing, playful cupcake substitute for a girl avoiding gluten.

Writing

Not much writing happening during this speech and debate tournament.

Learning

My eldest daughter did a great job on her speech—the best she could possibly do—yet did not advance. My youngest daughter advanced to semifinals in the event she thought she had flubbed up, and didn’t advance in the categories in which she thought she might have a chance.

They are learning (and I’m reminded) that all you can do is prepare, practice, tweak, practice more. Then go out there and do the best you possibly can, trusting God with the results.

You can try to predict the outcome, but in the end, you just never know.

Reacting

If you told me last year that my kids would develop speaking, organizational, research, writing, editing, creative expression, and critical-thinking skills through participation in only one “class,” and that this class would accomplish all of this without grades or standard academic rewards—I’d have responded, “Impossible!”

And if you told me that my kids would also, in this same class, discover inner motivation, confidence, poise, and respectful interaction with both peers and adults while proudly dressed in professional attire, I’d say, “You’re kidding me! I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Well, I’m seeing it.

My kids joined a speech and debate club, and throughout fall, I continued to doubt. Would my daughter ever truly know enough about the United Nations to debate the team policy resolution (“Resolved: the United Nations should be significantly reformed or abolished”)? Would she and her sisters really be able to act in these skits or write and memorize ten-minute speeches?

When the kids missed deadlines and appeared unmotivated, I questioned whether or not we should even continue. I went ahead and bought a debate box (pictured above) for my daughter’s December birthday, all the while worrying, Maybe this isn’t a good fit? What if she quits?

But then tournament season began, and something awakened in my kids.

They wanted it.

They wanted to do well. They wanted to improve, to feel proud of their work, to overcome their fears, to stand tall and proud that they took a risk and grew stronger for it.

They wanted to hear their name called when semifinalists are announced.

Semifinals, you see, are the ticket to regionals, which is a by-invitation-only tournament.

Our third daughter originally focused on debate, but by the third tournament, she decided to try her hand at some speeches. She added a duo (a two-person skit, performed with her debate partner), and then a humorous interpretation (a one-person skit). Later she added impromptu (pick a topic, take two minutes prep time, then walk in and give a five-minute speech using no notes).

Another of my daughters wrote a persuasive speech and delivered it multiple times at two tournaments, gaining confidence as she locked it in her memory. Each time she presents it, she’s practicing eye contact and emphasizing certain words to add a more urgent tone and call to action. This girl who hates to get in front of people discovered she can do more than survive giving a speech: she can give it multiple times, better and better each time.

I never imagined myself in this world of speech and debate, but here we are…I mean, literally, we are at a tournament even as I type. And though I am exhausted from the grueling schedule, and though we incur travel expenses, and though I feel inadequate as a judge when recruited, and though my heart sinks when I witness their disappointment at not advancing, I still feel this is the best investment of time and money I have ever made in my kids’ K-12 education.

The club is a Christian organization, and leaders point the students to Christ throughout the experience.

All of these skills the kids are developing? Give them to Jesus. Letdowns, disappointments and mess-ups? Give it to Jesus. Any wins? Any glory? Give it all to Jesus.

For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen. (Romans 11:36)

The post Curiosity Journal: March 6, 2013 (Speech & Debate Edition) appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Playing

On the schedule this afternoon: photography and haikus (see “Learning” below).

Reading

From the chapter entitled “Moon Shell” from Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea:

Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows he must be alone to create; the writer, to work out his thoughts; the musician, to compose; the saint, to pray. But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves: that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of a whole web of human relationships.  She must find that inner stillness which Charles Morgan describes as “the stilling of the soul within the activities of the mind and body so that it might be still as the axis of a revolving wheel is still.” (Lindbergh 50-51)

How to find this stillness and solitude? Is it as easy as finding some spot to sit alone for a few minutes, or hiring someone to watch the kids in order to escape to a park? For those women who work at an office, must they preserve a lunch hour strictly devoted to time alone?

Perhaps, though Lindbergh suggests something I have found to be true, as well—that solitude and stillness begin inside:

The problem is not entirely in finding the room of one’s one, the time alone, difficult and necessary as this is. The problem is more how to still the soul in the midst of its activities. In fact, the problem is how to feed the soul. (51)

Woman’s life today is tending more and more toward the state of what William James describes so well in the German word, “Zerrissenheit—torn to pieces-hood.” She cannot live perpetually in “Zerrissenheit.” She will be shattered into a thousand pieces. on the contrary, she must consciously encourage those pursuits which oppose the centrifugal forces of today. Quiet time alone, contemplation, prayer, music, a centering line of thought or reading, of study or work. It can be physical or intellectual or artistic, any creative life proceeding from oneself. It need not be an enormous project or a great work. But it should be something of one’s own. (55-56)

Writing

Three deadlines loom—but what an honor to have deadlines, for that means someone wants my words!

Also, from the editor’s desk, have you seen Diana Trautwein‘s story today at The High Calling? Read it, and then phone, write, pray for and hug all your friends and family.

Learning

Thanks to the good people at Tweetspeak Poetry, we know exactly how to write a haiku. So, no excuses, right? I expect to see some haikus in the comments below. Or over at Tweetspeak, if you prefer. You know you want to try your hand at one…

Reacting

When Mr. Rogers died ten years ago, I wrote a poem. In honor of his passing, I am republishing it, slightly edited, today:

Today in the Neighborhood

February 27, 2003

I wonder if my mother sighed today
when she set down the paper.
I wonder if she wept,
or smiled,
or prayed.

Someone died today.

Someone who provided Mom with
half an hour of freedom,
solitude,
relief.

Someone died,
whose soothing voice filled the living room
of our house on Duffey Street
and freed my mom to read a mystery,
work on her newspaper column,
or take a shower.

Mr. Rogers died today.

Mr. Rogers,
who zipped up his sweater
five days a week,
offering comfort and security
during the tumult of the late ‘60s and ’70s
when I was small and needed someone
to show me how to tie my shoes
sit in a dentist’s chair,
and feed the goldfish.

He trolleyed me away
from the low rumble
of my father’s frustration
with everything,
it seemed.

Mr. Rogers was a friend to me

and to my mother,
a woman tending her children
while composing a career
in spite of a husband who never
changed a diaper
or stirred spaghetti
or understood her need to pour words onto paper.
The sweater,
the shoes,
the trolley
offered her, too, comfort and security
in a tumultuous life

by creating space.

Mr. Rogers smiled at my mom each morning
as I stopped peppering her with questions
about tornadoes and tadpoles
and settled down on the gray carpet
or the green vinyl chair.
Maybe she smiled at the screen,
or nodded,
or sighed.

Maybe she whispered, “Thank you,”
as she retreated to the bedroom
or the kitchen table
for a moment of quiet
with a ballpoint pen,
a blank notebook,
and a mug of coffee.

Mr. Rogers was a friend to us both.

But I wonder today, on this day he died,
if he somehow meant more to my mom
who was reaching for identity
through the lifeline of writing
while teaching two young children to read
from flashcards she made by hand
and flipped for us to practice
until we spouted “happy” and “sad”

and “you” and “me”

And “Mommy”

And “Daddy”

And “Neighbor.”

© 2003 Ann Kroeker

Revised February 27, 2013

* * * * *

Work Cited: Lindbergh, Anne Morrow. Gift from the Sea. New York: Pantheon Books, 1975. Print.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 27, 2013 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Playing

My husband and I saved for several years to take a vacation, just the two of us. We were dreaming of an exotic, tropical location for our 20th wedding anniversary, but when our 20th rolled around, all our plans fell apart. We couldn’t manage to do anything for the 21st, either.

Now it is our 22nd year of marriage, and though that anniversary doesn’t end in a zero or five, it turned out to be the year we could arrange for something.

So we dipped into that special savings and took a trip to a beach. Just the two of us.

This trip didn’t land us on an exotic Caribbean island, but we did manage to secure tickets to southwest Florida where we found a hotel on Sanibel.

And as the days warmed to 80 degrees on that Florida beach, just the two of us would stretch out on lounge chairs without any kids asking if they can buy a Dr. Pepper at the vending machine or click on the hotel television to watch Cartoon Network.

And though the trip wasn’t picture perfect (see “Learning” below), we decided it was nevertheless just right, because it involved God’s creation spread out like a vision every morning, two bars of Endangered Species chocolate, uninterrupted time to chat or read, and amazing food—all for us to relish…just the two of us.

Reading

On the trip, I read Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea, where I revisited some of her observations that struck me between the eyes when my kids were little and I was feeling my way through parenthood like a blind woman groping for braille.

In the quiet, isolated, pre-blogging world when I lived the early years of motherhood, I landed on Lindbergh’s words that felt right and true, reassuring me I was not alone:

With a new awareness, both painful and humorous, I begin to understand why the saints were rarely married woman. I am convinced it has nothing inherently to do, as I once supposed, with chastity or children. It has to do primarily with distractions. (Lindbergh 29)

She continues in that same paragraph:

The bearing, rearing, feeding and educating of children; the running of a house with its thousand details; human relationships with their myriad pulls—woman’s normal occupations in general run counter to creative life, or contemplative life, or saintly life. (29)

At that stage of life when days stretched long and full, I craved time and space for creative, contemplative pursuits, but I was surrounded by distractions of little ones and their needs—blessed distractions, but distractions from the activities that had once satisfied my spiritual and creative self. I felt I lived a little off-center, mind-full instead of mindful. Lindbergh’s words helped me recognize and be aware of the pulls.

As she ponders simplifying life, she remarks:

I remember again, ironically, that today more of us in America than anywhere else in the world have the luxury of choice between simplicity and complication of life. And for the most part, we, who could choose simplicity, choose complication…if one accidentally finds [simplicity]…one finds also the serenity it brings. (33)

I craved a simple, creative, quiet life and the serenity I was sure it would bring. But I also wanted to live a full and devoted life as a stay-at-home mom. Lindbergh felt like a kindred spirit, and I took hope from her words, feeling understood for the first time. Her words contributed to my journey toward the slower, simpler life I wrote about both in The Contemplative Mom (to be re-released Summer 2013; available used for now) and Not So Fast (currently available from any bookseller).

What a delight to read Gift from the Sea again when my kids are so much older and I’m in a new stage of life…and to read it on Sanibel, just across the causeway from Captiva, where Lindbergh first wrote those words in 1955.

Writing

Get Organised published another of my experiments. This one, about my gamble with tucking active paperwork out of sight, has worked well.

Learning

Any vacation can throw a curve ball. On the next-to-last day of my husband’s and my Sanibel trip, we pulled up the weather report and saw an alert that read:

FLORIDA RED TIDE

A PATCHY HARMFUL ALGAL BLOOM OF KARENIA  BREVIS

ALSO KNOWN AS FLORIDA RED TIDE

HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED  ALONG PORTIONS OF THE SOUTHWEST FLORIDA COAST. OVER THE PAST  FEW DAYS

REPORTS OF DEAD FISH HAVE BEEN RECEIVED FROM  CHARLOTTE AND SARASOTA COUNTIES AND REPORTS OF RESPIRATORY  IRRITATION HAVE BEEN RECEIVED FROM LEE COUNTY.  NOAA RESPIRATORY IMPACT FORECAST:  SOUTHERN CHARLOTTE AND NORTHERN LEE COUNTIES: BAY REGIONS

PATCHY HIGH RESPIRATORY IMPACTS ARE POSSIBLE SATURDAY AND  SUNDAY

MAY EXPERIENCE RESPIRATORY SYMPTOMS WHEN  AN ALGAL BLOOM OF THE RED TIDE ORGANISM IS PRESENT ALONG THE  COAST AND WINDS BLOW THE AEROSOL IT PRODUCES ON SHORE. SYMPTOMS  ARE GENERALLY TEMPORARY

I skimmed the alert and went on with my day, but when we walked the beach on a windy evening, my sinus cavities felt swollen and I started coughing, coughing, coughing. My husband and I researched Red Tide, and I was experiencing some of the symptoms cited at some of the websites:

Some people experience respiratory irritation (coughing, sneezing, tearing and an itchy throat) when the Florida red tide organism, K. brevis, is present and winds blow onshore…The Florida Department of Health advises people with severe or chronic respiratory conditions, such as emphysema or asthma, to avoid red tide areas.

So we left the breezy beach and headed to the room, where I used my rescue inhaler and my breathing returned to normal. We looked at the weather advisory more closely, and my husband read the last line out loud: “‘Symptoms are generally temporary.’ That’s reassuring, isn’t it?”

Reacting

While my husband and I settled onto fluffy, blue-striped, hotel-supplied beach towels spread out on hotel lounge chairs on Sanibel beach, we noticed a woman who sat on the sand a few feet away from us, sifting through a pile of shells. She looked to be happy as a clam, picking out a single shell from the mass now and then before running her hand across and through, waiting for another to catch her fancy.

“That looks like someone I know,” I said to my husband. “A writer. I’ve met her at several writing conferences. Her dad ran the Christian bookstore in the town where I grew up.”

“Is it her, or does it just look like her?”

“I’ve only seen her in person a few times, but it sure does look like her.”

“It can’t be.”

“But if it is, wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“But if it isn’t, wouldn’t you be embarrassed?”

“I know! I’ll use her name really loud.” I raised my volume. “Hey, that looks like Cindy Crosby!” No reaction from the lady by the shells. “Seriously, that looks so much like Cindy!” Nothing.

My husband shrugged. “See? It just looked like her. Now leave that poor woman alone.”

“She does look happy. I’ll stop being silly.” I pulled out Gift from the Sea, which I was determined to finish before we left the island, and directed my attention to the book.

Days later, however, in the airport while waiting to board, I flipped open my computer and pulled up Facebook. Cindy Crosby, one of my Facebook friends, had just updated her profile picture to a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico, featuring the same blue hotel lounge chairs and blue-striped towels we had used all week.

I left a comment that I knew exactly where she was because I had just been there, and sure enough. It was Cindy Crosby all along, sifting through shells, relishing those moments in God’s creation. It’s a small, small, perfectly lovely world, isn’t it?

* * * * *

Work Cited: Lindbergh, Anne Morrow. Gift from the Sea. New York: Pantheon Books, 1975. Print.

Images by Ann Kroeker.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 20, 2013 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Playing

My husband and I tumbled into the world of “Downton Abbey.” We’re watching seasons one and two for free on Amazon.com through our Prime account.

One thing that is dampening this playful time-waster, and I do hate to complain because it’s my own fault to be so far behind, but… would you please ask your friends to stop exclaiming current plot twists on Twitter and Facebook?

Some fans have figured out ways to mask details and avoid spoilers. I appreciate those clever folks because exclamations like “TOTALLY sad. *sigh* #Downtown” and “Darn you, #Downton!” merely compel me to continue this frivolous journey all the way up to the current episode.

Reading

The High Calling’s book club discussion featuring Karen Swallow Prior’s Booked: Literature in the Soul of Me has come to an end. Dr. Prior has inspired me to read or re-read some classics, and I am inclined to revisit Jane Eyre.

I also pulled from a shelf some books on writing. I shall skim through them and determine which invites me to dig in.

Finally, I decided how to organize my devotional reading. For years I have followed a one-year Bible reading plan (I’ve used several different programs, most recently a chronological approach), but in 2013 I intend to focus on the New Testament. To that end, I will be following Discipleship Journal’s 5x5X5 plan, filling in the “reflection” days with a chapter in Proverbs and a psalm.

Writing

I was granted the privilege of wrapping up that THC book club series. Pop over to read my post and learn one of the many practical ways my husband expresses his love.

This morning, Tweetspeak Poetry published an article I wrote about teaching poetry to children, “There Are So Many Blues.” In December I wrote a similar post about inspiring poetry appreciation in my kids by incorporating family reading and recitation into our everyday lives. Too bad I didn’t keep that practice going. It comes, it goes. Last night, in honor of Edgar Allan Poe’s birthday, I read aloud “The Raven” to my eleven-year-old son, who did not remember hearing it a few years ago during lunch one afternoon.

His response? “That’s a pretty depressing, weird poem to read right before bedtime.”

Less artistic but hopefully über practical posts have been going live over at Get Organised. You can read about my recent decision to expect each of my kids to do his or her own laundry: an imperfect solution to a frequent frustration, but the best we’ve come up with so far.

Learning

Fort Fremont in South Carolina utterly captivated my kids when we visited a few weeks ago. We had the place to ourselves for about an hour.

The kids meandered through the dark, graffiti-covered rooms and played some kind of secret agent game, posing for pictures along the way.

Just past the fort and down a rocky embankment: Port Royal Sound, and a small beach.

On the same trip, just a few days later, we visited Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida. The kids enjoyed their visit, but for reasons they couldn’t explain, didn’t feel like lingering. Perhaps because of the crowds and Park Ranger presentations that kept them from running around like secret agents?

Still, I remember visiting as a child, feeling enchanted.

Reacting

The day we arrived home from St. Augustine, as part of a New Year’s Resolution, I began sorting through a box of stuff that I’d been ignoring in my bedroom. I slid it out of the corner and pulled out a small white container holding odds and ends. In a jumble of screws, old keys, and picture hangers sat this souvenir from my childhood trip to St. Augustine.

Such an odd coincidence, I thought. I’d forgotten this commemorative medallion that I’d saved, shoved into a box and ignored, only to unearth it two days after revisiting Castillo de San Marcos as an adult, decades later.

Similarly, just a day after we arrived home from that trip, I watched Forrest Gump because in South Carolina we had driven or walked past some of the film locations. In that same box that held my Castillo de San Marcos medallion, I found a collection of buttons I had saved from my youth, including this iconic smiley face.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOHr85z9k64″]

I’m not sure what to make of it all, so I’ll just leave you with this last little thought:

“Have a nice day.”

* * * * *

Images by Ann Kroeker.

The post Curiosity Journal: January 30, 2013 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Reading

The High Calling is hosting a book club discussion featuring Karen Swallow Prior’s Booked: Literature in the Soul of Me.

You can visit this post at The High Calling and scroll down to the comments to find links to posts that people have written in response to the first three chapters. Also, over at her Facebook author page, Jennifer Dukes Lee launched some fun creating pintograms (or whatever they’re called) highlighting quotes from the book.

Though I, like Karen, would have had permission to read widely without much censorship from my parents (at least that I knew about), I did not go wild choosing extremes. Instead, I read through Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden and The Hardy Boys. I read books by Marguerite Henry and Beverly Cleary. I favored Richie Rich comic books and carefully turned the pages of Mad Magazines borrowed from my brother. In the midst of this unsophisticated, simplistic reading material, I also read My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George and Kim, by Rudyard Kipling.

Karen describes her approach to books as “indiscriminate, disorderly reading.” I don’t know how indiscriminate I was in my childhood selections, but I was certainly disorderly. Many times I showed up at the library eager to learn a new skill, so I would carry armloads of nonfiction to the checkout desk, intending to satisfy my curiosity about anything from the care and keeping of tadpoles to crocheting, sewing, origami, and sketching techniques. These books did not contribute specifically to my spiritual or moral growth nor develop my deepest beliefs or understanding of Truth, but nonfiction did prepare me for life creatively and practically.

Meanwhile, I did read an occasional classic such as Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein.

I think I read some popular fiction of that time, but I don’t even remember it. I think that may serve as evidence supporting Karen’s premise that “the best way to counteract falsehood is not by suppressing it, but by countering it with truth.” I don’t even remember the meaningless books.

She writes:

The essence of Milton’s argument is that truth is stronger than falsehood; falsehood prevails through the suppression of countering ideas, but truth triumphs in a free and open exchange that allows truth to shine. (19)

The best way I saw truth triumph in my life was by beginning to read the Bible. Around the age of ten or eleven, I did so all on my own, at first understanding only a fraction of what I read from my King James Bible. Over time, thanks to that slow, steady diet of Scripture—its meaning brought to light by the Holy Spirit—created a foundation of truth that helped me discern falsehood both then and now.

Writing

I caught up on a couple of articles for Get Organised and Tweetspeak Poetry, and have been working with writers on final edits for their pieces to be published at The High Calling. You should check out today’s family article by Kimberly Coyle entitled “Lazarus Moments.”

Learning

After a particularly busy Christmas season that included the fun of hosting out-of-country family, I am learning that I need a long break.

Also, I learned the necessity of menu planning when responsible for feeding eleven people.

Playing

One of the joys of hosting is the fun we can have with extended family.

Reacting

As December gives way to January, I usually devote time to reflecting on the previous year and seeking vision for the year ahead. This time, I was so tired, I just rested. This is important, as well, for how can we reflect or seek vision without at first finding rest?

* * * * *

Images by Ann Kroeker.

The post Curiosity Journal: January 9, 2013 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Care to join me?
[simplylinked list=0ce2a324-70fa-4897-83dd-d062799f8b20]

Reading

I have a copy of Booked: Literature in the Soul of Me sitting nearby, waiting for me to join the book club at The High Calling in January. And this week I picked up a used copy of Tina Fey’s Bossypants and acquired Wrecked, by Jeff Goins.

Hope to get some reading done over break, and plan to dive into those three.

Writing

I’ve accepted a new role: the Get Organised Guinea Pig. It’s a humbling, yet appropriate, title.

The Get Organised team—helping businesses and individuals increase productivity—publish short articles on their blog written by professional organizers and guest contributors.

Once a month I’ll serve as a quirky guest contributor, describing one of my many organizational frustrations along with a solution I decide to implement. As I experiment, I’ll offer an honest evaluation about what works and what doesn’t.

You can read my report on our family’s switch from a paper to electronic calendar. Afterward, browse many other suggestions provided by the experienced Get Organised professionals who publish regularly. They may inspire you to organize a shelf, declutter a drawer, or download software to manage your to-do list.

Learning

(See “Playing” below.)

Playing

One of my daughters and I made a candle.

From a clementine.

(Click on one of the photos to see larger images in a slide show format.)

Reacting

I thought maybe James Taylor could, in his inimitable voice, bring us a sweet reminder of what we can do through actions and words. We can make it rain—love, love, love is sunshine. I don’t know if things are gonna be just fine if we do this, but it can’t hurt.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkAhQBbK-oM”]

* * * * *

Images by Ann Kroeker.

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Reading

This week’s reading is limited to blog posts and Facebook updates, though I did read The Wall Street Journal twice and checked news summaries via The Week app on my phone. Next week is devoted to reviewing composition class papers.

Writing

Even as some friends and acquaintances feel that they should post less frequently on their blogs, I’m wanting to do more. I yearn to share ideas, interview people, explore topics and develop themes. Though time is limited by family and teaching obligations, I long to sit at the table with you and sip some tea together. I’ll set out spoons and honey, and we can swap stories. That, for me, would make for a rich, full life.

I just made pie. Perhaps we can share a slice in the days ahead?

Learning

Always, I strive for a level of organization that frees me to make time for what matters most…but I never quite arrive.

Instead, I revisit systems and rearrange shelves; I set up a method for managing appointments or papers and trash it when it fizzles or fails.

Why can’t I arrive at a smooth and fluid way of living that frees me to focus on my top interests?

I live in tension created by the clash between my craving for order and my slovenly tendencies. I also share a home with five other easily sidetracked people who tend toward disorder. It’s not easy to arrive at an ideal and freeing level of organization.

This ongoing struggle discourages me some days and inspires me on others, but the biggest thing I’ve learned about myself is to keep experimenting and tweaking. Every day, do something: Install another shelf. Give away another sweater. Throw out another container of leftovers.

And so I do just that, day after day. Today, I clear my desk. Again. However, thanks to my husband’s help installing a system for holding my hanging files, I can slip these papers into folders for easy access. The desk is clear in record time.

Every day, a little more progress…and with that steady progress, I find that life is a little more fluid, a little more freeing, and when I clear the desk in record time, I’m living a little more fully.

Playing

I like to bake, so preparing some pies for Thanksgiving provides an opportunity for play. My son baked a pumpkin pie while I tried throwing together a gluten- and dairy-free pumpkin dessert. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to taste it.

Reacting

Today’s post at The High Calling, a reprint from Ann Voskamp’s blog, reminds me to practice thanksgiving in practical ways.

One of the ways Ann Voskamp suggested is to model it, so here I am, modeling gratitude, and I send this out to every reader who takes time out of his or her life to stop by and read these words. You are such an important part of my life as we share this space together. I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.

Thank you for being here. Merci.

* * * * *

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Reading

This week’s local Amazon deal offered two hours of professional organizing at a reduced price.

Professional organizing?

One glance around my office area confirmed my need for the deal.

My main organizational problem? Books.

My husband and I have installed bookshelves in every room, packing them with novels and nonfiction. I’ve stuffed homeschool textbooks into boxes that are stacked one on top of another and jammed into corners of every room. On top of and underneath tables: wobbly piles of reference books, poetry books, library books, juvenile fiction, and a few stray picture books.

I’m walking that fine line separating bibliophilia from bibliomania.

But here’s another take on my book collection: The other day I heard my son refer to a “knowledge keeper.” I’m not sure where he got that phrase, but when I survey the spines that dominate my home’s interior “design”, I feel something like a “knowledge keeper,” storing up ideas and inspiration, stories and wisdom—all that knowledge—for my family or for me; for now or for later.

Heaven knows I could use two hours of professional organizing, but I didn’t purchase the deal. I passed it by because I know the organizer would push me to let go of books, and I’m not interested. Not yet.

I mean, if I’m a knowledge keeper…don’t I need ready access?

Writing

As I’ve mentioned many times, I’ve been asked this year to teach composition to high school students. Several students are struggling to organize, structure and sequence their essays. As a result, they are producing jumbled paragraphs and struggling to express a strong, clear main idea.

Clear writing requires clear thinking. But how do I teach clear thinking? I want to help them, but I struggle because storytelling and conversation come more naturally to me than the essay form—how would I present to these students lessons in organized, structured, sequential thinking?

Thank heaven for my friend Laurie, who teaches logic. A couple of weeks ago, she came in with a critical thinking presentation; she returned this past week with ideas about employing logic as it relates to writing.

Consider this from her handout:

Logic’s goal is to answer the question: “Does this follow from that?” What is the “this”?  My thesis statement. What is the “that”? My supporting paragraphs. In an essay, the body paragraphs provide the logical grounds for accepting the thesis statement. As a writer, I need to evaluate each sentence of each paragraph to determine if it does in fact provide the logical grounds to accept the conclusion.

Will students heed her instruction to evaluate each sentence of each paragraph? I hope so. If they commit to that level of detail—asking if each sentence in a paragraph supports the topic sentence and if each topic sentence supports the thesis statement—they will at least turn in a paper that makes sense.

I’d much rather start with an unadorned essay that makes sense and then coach a writer to add style, than to start with a bright and lively paper that struggles to say anything meaningful or coherent.

(By the way, remind me to sign up to teach gym next year.)

Learning

(See “Writing” above.)

Playing

Every week I consider my life in terms of play and conclude that I am deep into a long season of play-poverty. What should I incorporate into my routine to lighten up?

Reacting

I’m not as upset as this little girl, but I do appreciate the honest reaction:

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjrthOPLAKM”]

* * * * *

Work Cited:

Handout: “Critical Thinking & Writing.” Indianapolis, 2012.

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Reading

I hate assigning letter or percentage grades to students’ writing projects.

I’d like to say, “Forget grades. Let’s just write. Give me your best work, and we’ll see how to make it stronger.” But our homeschool co-op families need grades for high school transcripts, and we want those grades to accurately reflect a student’s work in each class, so I review papers and then, at the end, have to make a decision.

I hate it. That last step makes me want to quit.

Writing

My time to write has been swallowed in big gulps by writing class tasks.

Learning

Though I cannot go into detail about health issues any of our family members are dealing with, I will report that I am currently sitting in a waiting room while someone I love is under the knife. I’m told the injury and resulting surgery are common. I appreciate hearing people tell us that; we are somewhat comforted knowing we aren’t facing a rare and difficult procedure.

We have no reason to doubt that all will go well, but still…while this may be common for the surgeon, it is not common for for us. So we sit and wait and pray and hope that all goes smoothly.

Playing

I’ve had so much fun taking my eldest daughter on a couple of photo shoots. Even though I took these a few weeks ago, I thought I’d share a few today, with her permission.

Reacting

If I don’t write something down, I forget it. This goes for everything from remembering to leave for an appointment to remembering to take a multivitamin. I keep it all on my smartphone these days, using a to-do list for tasks or prayer requests and a calendar for regular reminders. The silliest thing I’ve scheduled is a weekly reminder to tell my son to take a shower the night before our homeschool co-op. Be assured he takes showers more frequently than once a week, but I want to ensure he will be clean and fresh for the next morning; and because I forget so many things, I just scheduled it in.

To ensure I remember to pray daily for two people who are dealing with particularly hard situations, I decided to schedule that, as well. Every day at 3:20 p.m. Eastern time, my phone’s calendar flashes a reminder to “Pray for ___________ and _________ ” (names protected for privacy). This has worked well. The phone vibrates or beeps a reminder. Even if I have the sound set to mute, the message will flash on the screen for me to see.

One day I was standing at the counter of a hip clothing store chatting with the owner, a visual artist, about graphic design. Though I’d come in to pick up some sweatshirts, my daughter and I wanted to pick his mind about his line of work. While we talked, I set my phone on the sweatshirts. Just as I was about to ask my last question, a customer came up to the register to pay. I slid down the counter a bit so she could have space.

She leaned against the counter and pulled out her credit card to pay, but the owner had to go to the back of the store to grab something for her. We were all standing there with nothing to do, so I turned to say something to my daughter, and just then, my phone flashed “Pray for ___________ and _________.” I quickly turned to swipe away the alarm but not before the lady spotted it. She was staring straight at the screen, reading the words. I avoided eye contact and grabbed the phone. After I fumbled with it and stuck it in my purse, I peeked at her again; she seemed pensive as she processed this odd alert. I looked away quickly, wondered what she was thinking. Self-conscious, I imagined that she was wondering if I was indeed praying for ___________ and _________ right there at the counter. I was trying, but having my prayer life on display left me a bit distracted.

After she paid and left, I wondered if she would go home that afternoon and tell her husband and friends about the woman at the T-shirt store who scheduled prayer for two friends at 3:20 in the afternoon. Just so you know, I did manage to pray for ___________ and _________. But later, driving home, I wondered if that woman whispered some simple prayer of her own for my friends…and who knows? Maybe the next day at 3:20 she thought her own friends and prayed for them, as well.

* * * * *

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Reading

This past week’s reading: 14 student papers, three to five pages in length, MLA format with a Works Cited page.

I estimate this process of reading, commenting, evaluating and grading consumed 16-20 hours, including e-mail exchanges with students and parents, and an hour-long phone conversation. It’s exhausting.

However, the autodidact in me is more than satisfied. I learned about everything from bioluminescence, concussions, and graphic design, to puppy mills, windmills, and lice.

Writing

If I can count the notes I sent back to my students as writing, then I wrote practically nonstop.

Learning

What did I learn this week? See “Reading.”

Playing

The only chunk of time when I wasn’t trying to slip in more grading was when my brother and I took my dad out for his birthday at a small-town restaurant, the Mayberry Cafe.

Reacting

Forgive my brevity this week. I’m sort of shell-shocked from the grading.

* * * * *

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Reading

The current events experiment I mentioned last week? Big hit. Big, big hit.

Not.

(Do people do that whole “not” thing anymore?)

The kids have begun glancing at the front page headlines, so that’s progress. I’ll bet that any day now we’ll be launching involved discussions about politics and international happenings.

Not.

Writing

For the record, I’m a disorganized writer.

My space can be messy, my brain can be jumbled, and my words often need to be shuffled around and around before they’re fit for print.

How amusing that messy Ann would be asked to teach composition. Composition techniques are structured. They’re logical. They’re organized. I’d rather teach something a bit more messy, but the high school students in our homeschool co-op needed to learn composition, so here we are. Instead of inspiring rich self-expression through poetry, short stories, and creative nonfiction, I’m coaching them in the form and style appropriate for academic essays and research papers.

Please pray for me.

I’m kidding. I mean, I’ll be grateful for your prayers, but it’s not that bad. In fact, reminding myself of the basics of essay-writing is a good exercise for me, as well; practicing orderly composition techniques is always helpful, like broccoli for the brain.

During high school composition class this week, I modeled a simple method of organizing body paragraphs for essays. The class then paired up and used that method to write one of their own. When one pair volunteered to read their sample paragraph aloud, I scribbled key words on the board to match up with each component. To add humor, they included a fabricated vignette to serve as support, but as we analyzed the actual content, I had to point out that by the second or third sentence, they strayed from the main idea that they themselves had introduced.

Some students couldn’t see the problem. I walked through, step by step, how one idea or example should lead to another, supporting the introductory thought. Finally, I asked the assistant teacher to chime in, as her expertise is in logic. She pointed out one word that might be changed to help clear things up, but that tweak wasn’t enough. If this had been an official assignment, they would have been required to revise. Another pair of students shared their sample, which was clearer. But by then we ran out of time and I had to send them off.

I don’t know if the students feel ready, but this week they’ll be writing informative papers based on research they’ve been doing the past two or three weeks. Hopefully, they can follow this week’s technique to keep their brains on track as they build each paragraph and move from one to the next. I’m sure they will learn a lot by simply trying.

After they turn in their papers, we will hold a writing “workshop.” In the workshop, I’ll select a few papers to read aloud. The class will chime in to offer encouragement and analysis. We’ll refer to this organizational method when a paper exhibits problems with flow, organization, or logic. I hope it helps.

Giving these students the tools they need to create clear, appealing papers is a challenge. They have only a few months to practice and develop a solid understanding of style and form. I hope by the end of the year I give them enough instruction—enough broccoli, if you will—that they feel empowered to move ahead in their writing life with greater confidence. And they aren’t the only ones: I, too, need some mental veggies for a balanced diet. As I review these basic tools, perhaps I will improve my own style and form, moving ahead in my writing life with greater confidence.

Learning

Just about the time I was thinking about how I’d prefer to teach creative writing, I came across this article in The Atlantic about a Staten Island school facing closure due to “dismal” performance. What turned things around? Teaching analytical writing across the curriculum. Reading this article provided vision and enthusiasm for my role as composition instructor. Teaching students to write gives them tools to learn.

[T]he school’s principal, Deirdre DeAngelis, began a detailed investigation into why, ultimately, New Dorp’s students were failing. By 2008, she and her faculty had come to a singular answer: bad writing. Students’ inability to translate thoughts into coherent, well-argued sentences, paragraphs, and essays was severely impeding intellectual growth in many subjects. Consistently, one of the largest differences between failing and successful students was that only the latter could express their thoughts on the page. If nothing else, DeAngelis and her teachers decided, beginning in the fall of 2009, New Dorp students would learn to write well. (Tyre)

Clear writing requires clear thinking, making composition an excellent means to test a student’s grasp of material. By learning the basic essay form, a student can see how ideas can fit together and flow.

By sophomore year, Monica’s class was learning how to map out an introductory paragraph, then how to form body paragraphs. “There are phrases—specifically, for instance, for example—that help you add detail to a paragraph,” Monica explains. She reflects for a moment. “Who could have known that, unless someone taught them?” Homework got a lot harder. Teachers stopped giving fluffy assignments such as “Write a postcard to a friend describing life in the trenches of World War I” and instead demanded that students fashion an expository essay describing three major causes of the conflict. (Tyre)

The postcard assignment would be fun, provided the students already know and understand three major causes of the conflict. If not, having them compose the essay will drive home what they were taught. To send those students off to college and careers with solid writing skills? Invaluable.

Reading this article provided me with renewed vision for teaching my own class of 14 high school students. I am humbled, realizing that my lighthearted “pray for me” is a real need.

Pray for me, would you? Honestly. And not just me. Please pray for every teacher entrusted with the task of passing along skills and knowledge to impressionable minds. It is a high calling, not to be taken lightly.

Playing

When I was in high school, my parents gave me a bright yellow Schwinn ten-speed.

I loved the bike, pedaling for miles along the narrow country roads surrounding our farm, dreaming of my future.

I took the yellow Schwinn with me to college and rode it around campus for four years. When I moved to a new city after college, the yellow Schwinn came with me. After I married, my husband bought me another bike, a nice hybrid. I started riding it around town and left the yellow Schwinn hanging on two big hooks from the ceiling of the garage.

When my husband’s niece came to the states a few years ago to attend college, I proposed we loan her the old yellow Schwinn.

“Are you sure?” he probed. “You loved that bike. I don’t want you to regret it.”

I thought about it long and hard, and then decided that my niece would benefit from transportation, and Old Yellow would benefit from being ridden. “Let’s do it,” I said.

So we hoisted Old Yellow from the hooks in the garage and delivered it to our niece. She rode Old Yellow around campus all four years of undergrad; she rode it around Chicago, where she worked for over a year; and now, as a grad student, she’s riding Old Yellow around the same campus as I did decades earlier.

When I visited our niece last weekend, she met me at a restaurant. How did she get there?

Reacting

I love my hybrid bike, but I must admit that when when I set eyes on my old yellow Schwinn, I felt a surge of nostalgia and affection.

* * * * *

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Work Cited:

Tyre, Peg. “The Writing Revolution.” The Atlantic. N.p., Oct. 2012. Web. 26 Sept. 2012.

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Reading

Concerned that my kids are ignorant of current events, I announced that we should at least be aware of headlines. In response, two of the girls moaned. “Oh, Mom! Do we have to? Can’t we please just talk about the highlights of our day?” One of them even flopped her head against the table.

Sorry, kids, but the world is far bigger than the goings-on of our suburban cul-de-sac. Tonight, we’ll begin reading the paper together—starting with headlines and brief summaries.

They are thrilled, I tell you. Just thrilled.

Writing

Yesterday’s description of Sunday mornings at the country church where I worshiped as a tween and teen seemed to hit a chord with people.

Learning

My 11-year-old son has been making cornbread, in search of the perfect recipe to submit to our church’s chili-and-cornbread cook-off. His plan is to make several small pans for the family to try, and we’ll keep comparing and ranking until we arrive at the top pick. He has not asked for any help from me.

“Where are you getting your recipes?” I asked.

“Online,” he said. “I like ‘Food.com.’ Have you heard of it?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, impressed with his resourcefulness. “I use it a lot.”

“Well, I like it because I can change the number of servings and it automatically recalculates all the ingredients. I don’t have to do any math! It does it for me!”

I never noticed that feature. I’d prefer that he practice his math, but I have to admit, it’s a clever tool.

To experiment, I pulled up a random recipe—somebody’s sweet cornbread recipe, to stick with the cook-off theme—and sure enough! Just under the word “Ingredients” is a gadget with arrows. After clicking on it, I can type in another number and “update” to the new measurements.

I might try it, because to be honest…I don’t like doing the math either.

 Playing

My eldest daughter, a high school senior, is preparing for a couple of photo shoots. First, her sister and I will try our hand at some shots. If none of the them turns out to her satisfaction, we’ll hire a pro. But it’s fun to try first. This weekend is our last big effort before calling in the experts.

I’m gathering ideas for poses and props on Pinterest. Some are pretty silly, I suppose, but I pinned them anyway. Teen girls like to pose.

Reacting

Writing that story about my early days of faith makes me wonder what life stories I might tell…and, more philosophically, I wonder what stories need to be told?

At the same time, I must also ask what stories need to be left alone.

How do you decide which is which?

* * * * *

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Reading

No time for reading this past week—I was too busy responding to life’s curve balls.

Writing

I’m starting research for an article and retyping an old manuscript.

Learning

It’s easy to think I can’t do something, especially when the task falls outside my skill set and life experience.

When called upon, however—when the need arises or duty calls—I’m discovering I can do far more than I think I can.

If you need someone to staunch a wound, for example, just call me. I have experience.

(There’s a story behind this, of course, but I’m not at liberty to share details. Sorry.)

Playing

See today’s article at The High Calling.

Reacting

I stood in a line at the post office, holding an envelope that needed to be weighed. While estimating how long it would take that one lone clerk to process the people’s packages in front of me, I glanced back at the long row of men and women behind me, their faces and stances exhibiting various states of anxiety. They repositioned boxes and fidgeted with padded envelopes. In front of me, people inched forward as the calm, methodical clerk called them up, one by one. To avoid eye contact with any of these strangers, I fiddled with my phone. No need to make someone uncomfortable. Besides, I just wanted to run my errand and get back home.

As we inched forward, the two women in front of me struck up a conversation, chatting about their work. June, directly in front of me, a retired teacher, described a book she was writing. The other woman, Kelly, said she worked at a school for kids with Asperger’s. Kelly complained about her tight shoulders.

“It’s from hunching over a computer all day,” she explained. “I’m the school receptionist. I love it, but it’s tiring.”

June plopped her box and padded mailer on the counter, then reached over and began massaging Kelly’s shoulders, explaining she’d traveled to South America and trained under a well-known massage therapist and knew proper technique to release tension. Kelly grinned and accepted this spontaneous gift from a stranger.

Soon, the clerk at the counter motioned for Kelly to come on up. June grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled out her name and number. “I can teach you an exercise that will transform your body and keep you from holding in all that stress.”

“Thanks!” Kelly didn’t commit to following up, but took the paper and tucked it into her purse.

“Call me,” June said. “Seriously. Call me and I’ll meet you to show you that move. You can do it anywhere—while you’re outside on a walk or on the dance floor. It’ll transform you.”

“Sounds great,” Kelly said as she left, waving goodbye. June scooped up her packages and took Kelly’s place at the front counter.

I stood there, next in line, marveling at how quickly two strangers transformed from nameless faces to two very real people. I looked down at my package and wondered how many people yearned to be known, and how many preferred to be left alone.

I glanced back at the line again. A woman caught my eye and shook her head. I didn’t know if she was communicating frustration over the long wait or astonishment over the exchange between Kelly and June.

I smiled and nodded, then turned back to the post office clerk. He was motioning for me to come up; soon I’d be back in my car, driving home.

* * * * *

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Last week I launched two books that seem interesting: The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains and Man Seeks God: My Flirtations with the Divine. Just as I sank in the third and fourth chapters of each book, writing class started and I committed to grading 14 papers within 36 hours. So the books were set aside as I read paper after paper after paper.

The first assignment for the class: write a narrative essay about a moment or event in life that represented a moment of change. The change could be dramatic and life-altering or small and subtle.

Monday evening, the papers rolled in. What variety! Stories ranged from such tragedies as ruined honey buns and failed swim tests to crashed cars, broken arms and bloody head wounds. Others told of successes such as traveling to a foreign country and conquering a fear of roller coasters.

I pulled it off, by the way. I typed up detailed recommendations for 14 papers ranging in length from two to seven double-spaced pages.

This week the students will revise their narratives and turn in the final copy. Even though young writers initially question and resist revision, they eventually appreciate what that editing stage produces: cleaner, clearer, stronger stories.

As much as I would love to return to my books, I must brace myself to read and review the next round of papers.

Learning

Two weeks ago I experimented with a plugin on my self-hosted WordPress blog. Unfortunately, I hadn’t updated WordPress and the plugin was incompatible with the old version of WordPress. The result of this pairing?

“Fatal error.”

I was locked out of the dashboard and presented with this ominous message. The blog itself looked fine to visitors, who could continue to read my existing posts and leave comments, but the dashboard was inaccessible. I couldn’t publish anything new. I couldn’t apologize, explain the situation, or most important of all—I couldn’t get in to fix the problem.

I was stuck.

It seems I know just enough WordPress to cause problems that I can’t solve on my own.

Enter EmmanuelPress.

Chris Cree launched EmmanuelPress to provide ministry-oriented organizations and individuals with WordPress sites running on the Genesis Framework. These flexible themes include a robust SEO package to increase visibility on the Web, which is important for ministries to consider as they reach out to communicate with people all over this big, wide world.

By slipping annkroeker. writer. under the EmmanuelPress umbrella, I not only benefit from the functionality EmmanuelPress offers but I’m also protected from…well, myself. That is, I can trust that everything is up-to-date while accessing plenty of safe, effective, and compatible plugins.

I learned my lesson. While I love to tinker with technology, some things are best left to experts. I’m leaving my behind-the-scenes support in the capable hands of EmmanuelPress so that I can get back to what I do best…um…whatever that is. Storytelling, I suppose. And pointing you to helpful resources. And being silly. I’m not sure how ministry-oriented that is. Chris, bless his heart, knows my love for the Lord and trusts I’ll impact the Kingdom…somehow.

Playing

Somebody celebrated a birthday today.

Eleven years old.

And he made his own cupcakes. “Because it’s fun,” he said. And a guy should do as many fun things as possible on his birthday, right?

His eldest sister handled icing, sprinkles, and candles.

Next-eldest sister serenaded him by employing her recently acquired picking skills on the guitar.

Third-eldest sister made him a Pokemon Oshawott.

I don’t know precisely what this Pokemon creature does, but my son recognized it immediately and hugged it close.

Reacting

A friend of mine crochets rag rugs out of long strips of fabric torn from old dresses, tablecloths, curtains, blouses, skirts and sheets. She brought some out for show-and-tell one summer evening when we were finishing up dessert on their deck.

As she was stacking them up for us to examine, I spotted two rugs that stood out from the rest—two that seemed like a great fit with the style and colors of my house. She names each rug, so I pulled out “Sky Lark” and “OH Shucks!”, spreading them across my lap and running my hands over the thick, nubby texture.

Yes, these would work. The Belgian Wonder handed me some cash to pay her, and I came home with an oval rug for my kitchen, and a rectangular rug for our downstairs bathroom.

They wear well, wash well, and come with a lifetime guarantee, my friend said with a wink. These beauties fit in so well, they look like I custom-ordered them.

Writing

I don’t do much writing while teaching, but I have two assignments I’m working on.

* * * * *

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Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

Just started The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. I’m only on chapter three, so it’s too soon to offer any thoughts.

Learning

My dad was a Linotype operator during the exact same era presented in the following documentary. He set type for a small-town newspaper then went on to work after college as an editor at a major metropolitan newspaper that used this same basic printing process (excluding a few steps specific to book making and binding). Also, my father-in-law was a printer and book editor who was familiar with every one of these steps.I thoroughly enjoyed watching this vintage documentary, appreciating this ten-minute tour of work that was such a big part of my family’s history. The announcer’s voice felt familiar; he must have provided narration for many films of that era.Many thanks to Maureen Doallas for sharing this on her blog. She, in turn, credits Page Views and Paris Review Daily for pointing her to the link.

Playing

I’ve been playing around with Word Candy. They wrapped this up for me on Tuesday evening just as my eyes were heavy and my mind fading after a full day.

Reacting

I listen to the waxing and waning of the cicadas’ song, a whirring that speeds up, climbing higher in pitch and volume, then slows and quiets only to start over again after a pause. This is the sound of late summer days; crickets take over as the sun goes down to dominate the nighttime soundtrack.On these nights, the Perseids meteor shower shoots across the blue-black sky and we lie on blankets in the grass staring at the stars in search of a blazing streak, swatting mosquitoes because we’re too lazy to go inside and pull on long pants.We relish these last days of freedom before academic obligations drive our daily schedule.Then, we wake one morning with a gasp because we’ve suddenly arrived at the days of transition.I know I’m in transition when I begin to clear and clean my desktop, sell unneeded books, and sort through piles that have sat for months gathering dust. A few hours after donating bags of clothes and household items to Amvets, I drive to a big box store for bags of school supplies. I recognize and flinch at both lack of progress (stuff out/stuff in) and first-world luxury (so much stuff).Waking to sunshine, I pull out the chronological plan I follow to read the Bible in a year. I grab my blank book and a pen. I copy out this verse:

This is what the LORD says:Stand by the roadways and look.Ask about the ancient paths:Which is the way to what is good?Then take it and find rest for yourselves.But they protested, “We won’t!” (Jer. 6: 16)

I look up and realize the cicadas seem to be quiet longer than expected. In the relative stillness, I look at those lines and ask, silently, “Every fall I stand at a kind of roadway and wonder about those ancient paths, Lord. Which is the way to what is good? Show me, so I can take it and find rest.”Looking back down at the passage, I don’t gain specific direction, but I feel sure that I’m heading in the right direction in the deepest way, and that it has less to do with my cleared desk and organized books.I breathe sweet summer air that drifts through the open window next to my desk and scribble a few words of thanks, and the cicadas, fewer this time, start up another wave of their summer song with that unmistakeable whirr.

Writing

For the past few years, I’ve taught a high school writing class for students who enter with minimal formal writing experience. Each year I have changed some things in the course, but regardless of the curriculum I use or the number of papers I assign, I focus on essays and research papers.I teach once a week, and as I prepare, I often come across resources, ideas, and reminders that might be helpful to writers of any age, even if the concept is something learned long ago and practiced for years.For fun, I may begin to share some of those tidbits, often adjusting the concept in relation to blogging. This week, for example, as I pulled together information about plagiarism to present to the class, I published some thoughts on how I might incorporate thorough citation on my blog.We’ll see if I can pull off a brief post about the writing process each week—I may be too busy grading papers!

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Word Candy image compliments of the WordCandy.me beta app. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

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Works Cited

“Daily Bible Reading Program.” Blue Letter Bible. Blue Letter Bible, n.d. Web. 15 Aug. 2012.

Doallas, Maureen E. “Wednesday Wonder: Making a Book.” Writing Without Paper. N.p., 15 Aug. 2012. Web. 15 Aug. 2012.

“Jeremiah 6:16.” BibleGateway.com. Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB), n.d. Web. 15 Aug. 2012.

Phillips, Dr. Tony. “2012 Perseid Meteor Shower.” 2012 Perseid Meteor Shower – NASA Science. Science@NASA, 10 Aug. 2012. Web. 15 Aug. 2012.

Ziptrivia. “Ziptrivia Presents: Making Books Is Fun! (to Watch).” YouTube. Original: Encyclopedia Britannica Films Inc., 31 May 2007. Web. 15 Aug. 2012.

The post Curiosity Journal: August 15, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

On Sunday I started Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption.

Finished it on Monday.
As soon as I finished, I wrote a brief response on Goodreads, claiming I wasn’t so crazy about the informative sections because they interrupted the powerful, irresistible narrative. Today, however, when I thought about the nonstop intensity of Louis Zamperini‘s story, I thought maybe those informational portions were intentional respites; maybe Laura Hillenbrand realized that readers would need a pause now and then to catch their breath.

While bedridden by chronic fatigue, Hillenbrand conducted meticulous research, piecing and weaving together overlapping characters and scenes to retell the saga. Louis Zamperini said in an interview (see below) that she was one of his heroes because of all she accomplishes in spite of her debilitating illness of 20+ years. To honor her, he sent her one of his purple hearts.

If you have not read Unbroken and intend to, please know that Hillenbrand seeks to recreate everything that Louie experienced. Some situations are violent, some language is offensive (mostly nicknames the POWs gave to their guards), and some actions are deeply disturbing. If you begin the book and realize that reading it will be too overwhelming, you might prefer to simply watch the CBS documentary (see below) broadcast during the 1998 winter Olympics held in Nagano, Japan. It hits the main points of the story and introduces you to this remarkable man.

Learning

Spoiler alert: As I just pointed out, the following video provides a good overview of Louis Zamperini’s story. If you have not read Unbroken and plan to, do not watch the following CBS video. I believe you’ll appreciate the book much more if you simply let the details unfold, page after page.

If you have read the book, however, or if you know you won’t ever be reading it, enjoy hearing from some of the main characters (beginning 9:54 through 50:00). After the video, a USC professor interviews Louie in person. In total—the CBS documentary + the interview—the video lasts 2 hours, 17 minutes. I watched it on Tuesday and felt it was worth every minute.

Playing

Absorbed in Louis Zamperini’s story, stunned by his suffering, inspired by his faith, and motivated by his resilience and spunk, I would say the closest I came to playing was to delay a few duties on Monday in order to finish the book.

Reacting

Spoiler alert: The following section reveals a few details from the book, so consider how much you want to keep as a surprise.

From the USC interview, I learned that Zamperini signs books with the phrase “Be hardy.” He feels like this current generation hasn’t known struggle like his did. “Our period of time before WWII,” he explained, “we had nothing but adversity, and we had to overcome it.” He observed that some people don’t try to overcome when they face something hard. They just stop and then “it eats on them. I like the term hardy,” he continued, “because every time you overcome an adversity, you become more hardy. “At age 94, his health (in 2011, when the interview was conducted) is great. He rarely gets sick. His explanation? “You have to stay positive and believe that all things work together for good for those that love the Lord…look for what the good is going to be.”

Also, he says that staying cheerful is where your health comes from. “Have a cheerful countenance at all times…you’ll get white corpuscles into your immune system and get well faster.” (You should see his smile!)

Zamperini took survival courses, including a course with Dr. Webster at USC who said that your brain is like a muscle—if you don’t use it, it’ll atrophy. So Zamperini had a plan to keep his and his fellow castaways’ minds active while floating on the life raft. He’d teach the other two men words of Hit Parade songs, his pilot and friend Phil taught them hymns, Louie described in minute detail how his mother prepared some of her famous Italian dishes; they reminisced and planned ahead. All of that served as a daily mental regimen. The result was that “after 47 days, our minds were sharper than the day we crashed.” He explained:

If you watch television every day, I don’t think you’ve heard any good news recently, all these riots and all this stuff on TV, all this swearing and pornography and all that, and our brains are fed that every day. Okay, you crash in a plane. You leave this confused world and chaotic world, and a whole new world starts. Everything we put in our minds from that point forward was positive…we fed our minds what we wanted to feed them. (Louis Zamperini, from the USC Annenberg interview)

Zamperini’s boldness in speaking about his faith inspires. In the interview, he said, “Hope is the power of the soul to endure. And hope must have a reason. Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen. So hope must have an object.” He wove that scriptural reference into his explanation of the rescue from sea.

When asked how he keeps stress out of his life, he said he lights a fire in his fireplace, gets his dinner, and sits there for about an hour listening to classical music like Bach and Beethoven, relaxing. He claims, “When anxiety comes knocking, you don’t have to let the anxiety in.”

The interviewer observed that after Louie’s conversion, he forgave everyone who had tortured him during his years as a POW. Louie said he gets a lot of letters from people who read the book but can’t shake a feeling of vendetta and hatred toward someone in their lives. “If you hate somebody, that’ll give you stress…it’s like a boomerang that misses the target and comes back to hit you.” Upon experiencing the grace of God, he was filled with an inexplicable and instant forgiveness toward all of his tormentors. He lives free from hate, choosing to trust that God is working all things in his life for good.

Writing

I’m preparing materials for the writing class I’ll teach this fall, reminded of the importance of citation. I’m working on a post about that and how I intend to apply it to blogging and social networking. And in a more general sense, I’m considering how to make the most of my time. If Laura Hillenbrand can research and write a 457-page biography while bedridden, sure I can be more productive than I’ve been.

The post Curiosity Journal: August 8, 2012 (the Louis Zamperini edition) appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

I started a couple of books while we were at family camp last week, but didn’t get far before people or activities pulled me away.

I left my book bags leaning against Adirondack chairs near the lodge as I conversed, kayaked, hiked and snapped photos.

Learning

The family camp we attend is simple, with minimal programming. They feed us, offer waterfront activities, host a square dance, and organize a campfire singalong with s’mores. It’s a week where a person could do next to nothing, or spend hours on the water or in the woods.The flexible schedule builds in two days to explore the area. We chose to visit Mackinac Island the first day.We rode on the ferry alongside some sailboats finishing the annual Race to Mackinac (Chicago to Mackinac Island).Motorized vehicles are not allowed on Mackinac, so people rent bikes to explore the island or simply stroll around town. Due to the influx of visitors associated with the big race, sidewalks were packed with people, and horse-drawn carriages were loaded down with tourists. What a relief to escape the crowds.We headed out on the eight-mile perimeter “highway.”I randomly lifted the camera to snap shots along the way.We cut inland halfway around, fighting to make it up steep hills.High on the island, we parked the bikes and walked out on a platform attached to Arch Rock for some lovely views.The bicycle rental dude told us that Sugar Loaf, a big limestone rock (the information sign called it a limestone “stack”), was a spot that the ancient inhabitants of the island believed to be the center of the universe.”Really?” I said. “Wow. Must be amazing.””You’ll see when you get there,” promised the dude. “It’s my favorite place on the island.”Intrigued, we wound our way through woods and struggled up inclines, following signs to Sugar Loaf.We finally found it.We stared at it for a moment, then looked at each other and shrugged.”Looks like a big rock,” one of the kids observed.”Let’s investigate,” I proposed.We ran up the little path and circled around the stack. On the back side my daughter discovered a little ledge where she climbed up to perch for a few minutes. Sadly, Sugar Loaf did not inspire a spirit of sharing or generosity, as she sort of kicked her brother away when he tried to join her.He and I continued around Sugar Loaf, leaving her at the perch. Three-quarters of the way around we spotted this guitar-shaped hole.If only my son could have made it to that little keyhole and squeezed through…who knows what he would have found?Alas, he is not a skilled climber, so we left Mackinac Island without unlocking the secrets of Sugar Loaf.The other day away from camp, we drove to “The Soo,” or Sault Sainte Marie, where locks control water levels between Lake Huron and Lake Superior, allowing ships to pass from one lake to the other.Back at camp, the simplest things delight. 

Playing

At this campground where we stopped along the way, two of my daughters enjoyed the playground.

Reacting

At the end of the week, on our way home, we found our way to Sleeping Bear Dunes. Sunsets at the Empire Village park inspired us all.

Writing

Write? Sometimes you just have to live.And L-O-V-E.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: August 1, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Care to join me?

Reading

I hardly know how to offer a few thoughts about the book I just finished, Jeannette Walls’s memoir The Glass Castle; in fact, I hesitate recommending it to sensitive readers due to some sexual situations and the father’s creatively vile language, not to mention the peculiar neglect and abuse. It’s not an easy read in that regard. But the story reads like a fast-paced novel in a restrained show-don’t-tell style. Assuming the details are accurate—as accurate as memory-based projects can be—The Glass Castle left me breathless, horrified, furious, and astonished.As I described a few memorable scenes to a friend (this New York Times review reveals quite a bit), she said, “My memoir would be so boring: ‘And then I entered middle school. I turned in my homework on time and played in the school band. And my parents were really nice.'” But I insisted we all have a story. That same friend adopted two kids from Ethiopia a few years ago. I’ll bet she could write a pretty interesting memoir contrasting her stable middle-class childhood with these years of parenting two African kids in a Midwestern American suburb.After finishing The Glass Castle, I didn’t think another memoir needed to be written. Ever. But a few days have passed since closing the book and returning it to the library, and already I no longer think that’s true. I think our stories need to be told—maybe not as published memoirs, but in some way. When we find the themes and narrative of our own life stories—when we share those stories with each other—we have a chance to grow in understanding, appreciation and compassion. Reading, we live alongside others, taking in and processing their pain and joy, and we are richer for it.Now that I’ve made all those bold statements, however, I realize that I still hesitate writing my own. Maybe I’m talking myself into it. I toy with it now and then, but maybe I really will. Maybe, someday.

Learning

I continue to think about what motivates us. As I discussed it with a friend this week, we wondered how duty fits into the intrinsic/extrinsic model. Is duty something we do to please others or feel a sense of pride, knowing we have done “the right thing” according to our society or a subculture within that society? If so, does that make it sort of an intrinsic/extrinsic hybrid?Adding to the conversation, another friend reminded me that Christians have a motivation that runs deep as the Holy Spirit works in us to teach us to obey, pointing us to Christ’s example:Who, being in very nature God,did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;rather, he made himself nothingby taking the very nature of a servant,being made in human likeness.And being found in appearance as a man,he humbled himselfby becoming obedient to death —even death on a cross! (Phil 2: 6-8)Jesus, the obedient servant, is our model, our Teacher, our Lord. But it’s not up to us, not entirely, because we have the gift of His Holy Spirit, who prods, inspires and motivates us to serve.

Playing

Our family biked together the other day. The path was long, uphill much of the time. One person sulked much of the way, but most of us accepted the challenge and enjoyed the scenery.Stopping only rarely, I was stuck taking photos in motion—left hand on the handlebar, right hand clicking away—capturing a series of blurry, not-quite-level snapshots.

Reacting

Teens need more sleep than they think they do.

Writing

Despite my enthusiastic call to tell our stories, I have no memoir in the works.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: July 25, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

This week when I finished Drive, I slipped it into the bag of library returns. Then I had second thoughts. Though I didn’t think the book required additional processing, some of its concepts and stories lingered with me, so I plucked the book from the bag and set it on my desk to flip through a few more times.A couple of days ago, I invited two friends over who are parents dealing not only with the ups and downs of motivating their teenaged sons and daughters, but also with the challenges of home educating those same kids. As we chatted, some topic would come up and I would paraphrase a story found in Drive. The third time I found myself trying to remember a statistic or the name of a company, I simply excused myself to grab the book. Back at the table where we were sitting, I flipped it open and read short passages, asking what they thought about this idea or that.The book questions our standard method for motivating people, be they our employees, students or children. This “carrot-and-stick” method, which author Daniel H. Pink calls Motivation 1.0, relies on extrinsic motivation that in some way motivates good behavior and penalizes bad behavior. He claims that a new and better approach is needed for individuals, businesses, schools and families; he would like us to consider a switch to Motivation 2.0, which taps into a person’s intrinsic motivation.My friends and I talked about the frustration of motivating kids to do chores. Pink claims that connecting chores with a payment (as a reward, a “carrot”) is hearkening back to Motivation 1.0. Research reveals that paying kids to do chores doesn’t work over the long haul. With Motivation 2.0, one considers how to give kids autonomy, purpose and the opportunity for mastery instead of how to give rewards. Those are the three elements Pink lists as key to Motivation 2.0: autonomy, purpose and mastery.One of the moms said that three years ago, she and her husband made a master list of every task necessary to keep their home functioning and healthy (read: clean). The list was long, she said, because they wrote out every little thing. Then the parents wrote their names next to tasks that they do. The remaining tasks were up for grabs. They asked their sons to work out among the three of them who would do which task, but that each and every job had to be claimed and “owned.” Then the parents left the room. The boys were on their own.Not long after, the boys came to their parents and held out the list. Next to each item: a name. They worked it out. The boys still complete those chores that they selected three years ago. It worked out nicely, she said, because one kid didn’t mind doing dishes whereas another kid hated dishes but was willing to scrub toilets. They understood the purpose: that those tasks need to be done for the household to function well. Autonomy was offered when each boy could choose and take ownership of a set of tasks. The boy arrived at mastery when he learned to consistently do his jobs well over the long haul.The other friend and I listened carefully to her inspiring story, a little jealous. “Oh, that’s good,” the other friend murmured. “That’s very, very good.”“Brilliant,” I agreed. Then I told a more cautionary tale, about the days of yore when I invited my son or daughter to join me so that together we could hang clothes on the line to dry. I told the kids how beautiful it was hearing the birds sing and feeling the sunshine through dappled leaves in the morning. They agreed and joined me to get the job done quickly and in community. We enjoyed lovely conversations as we stood side-by-side, handing each other clothes pins and accomplishing the task together.Then, one day, I had to run an errand, but the clothes still needed to be hung. I told one of the kids I would pay her to do it by herself. She did, gladly. I paid her when I got back and thanked her. But that was the end of the first idyllic scenario under the dappled sunshine. The paid option worked well the first time, but I’d unwittingly short-circuited intrinsic interest and replaced it with a reward. Next time I asked for help, she expected the payment to stay the same or increase. Why bother doing it for free ever again?I’ll be returning Drive to the library before long, but I’ll be thinking about intrinsic motivation—especially with regard to parenting, even chores specifically—for a long, long time.

Learning

I’m learning a lot as I eliminate foods from my diet to determine possible allergies. I have reactions after eating watermelon and cantaloupe. And bananas. Strange, no? In the next few months I hope to confirm other possible offenders such as dairy and wheat, and if they are the trouble, I’ll avoid them altogether.Also, I’m grateful for all those who have suffered and struggled with allergies, prompting companies and restaurants to begin offering ingredient lists, as well as quality gluten-free and dairy-free products. It has made this experiment so much easier.

Playing

One of my daughters and I were running an errand together, and I made the comment that I hated youth group games when I was her age.”Why?” she asked.”I…I don’t know.” I thought about it. “Maybe because they seemed ridiculous, humiliating, and a waste of time. I really just wanted to talk to people. Why did we have to run back and forth to a baseball bat, spin around a dozen times, carry an egg in a spoon across a parking lot, and so on?”She laughed.”Maybe I’m just no fun,” I suggested.She laughed again…without answering.

Reacting

The drought.Rain just keeps slipping past; storms that hold precious rain simply fall off the radar before reaching our part of the state or break up and sneak north or south of us. The radio warns of the threat to our water supply and to crops pushing into rock-hard soil, wilting under 100-degree sun before producing fruit.Extreme drought conditions are new to me. My awareness grows. Just today I heard water running through pipes in the wall next to my desk. One of my daughters was showering. The water ran and ran and ran, and I realized I’ve not taught her ideas for water conservation such as the Navy Shower.I turn on the sink and imagine the possibility of brownish water flowing from the faucet when the reservoirs have offered their last gulp and have nothing left but muddy dregs. As I fill my glass, I realize how much I take for granted. I down clear and cool water…and give thanks.

Writing

No big projects.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: July 18, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

Continuing with chronological approach to reading through the Bible in a year.Trying to finish Drive, but, ironically, I can’t seem to get through it because I’m spending so much time driving my daughter to and from driver’s ed this week.

Learning

I once was in a writing group. A woman in the group wrote difficult, complex poetry that I barely grasped. She thought of herself as a lonely prophet living on the fringe of society, in a virtual wilderness, eating honey and wild locusts. In contrast, she told me I was like an inviting, cozy cottage where people were welcomed and found shelter in the warmth.I made a droopy face, feeling stylistically and intellectually simplistic. She conceded that my style was indeed more simple and encouraging than stark and difficult…but that it was good. People need a place to sit and seek comfort.Secretly, I wished I were more artsy and could sling metaphors and symbolism around with more confidence, but I eventually accepted that this is who I am, a bit plain, not only in my writing, but also in my basic personality.As a result of her intensity and intellect, the woman created stunning, lasting art. I think of her work as something like this:As a result of my simplicity, I create, well, conversations. Accessible and plain, I think of my work as something more like this:

Playing

Over the weekend, the Belgian Wonder and I drove our RV to a state park and spent the night.We hiked the canyon.The summer drought intensified by triple digit temperatures made us think twice. We almost didn’t go.But the canyon was cooled by a breeze that slid through narrow rock walls and over a trickle of flowing water.The northern part of our state is mostly flat; the southern portion boasts rolling hills. This small canyon is a topographical, ecological anomaly example of “erosion in Mansfield sandstone from the Mansfield formation.^”

This formation was deposited during the Carboniferous period at the mouth of the ancient where sediments collected and compacted. This swampy environment formed many coal deposits which were mined in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The collapsed entrance to a coal mine is still a major feature of the park.During the Pleistocene Epoch the Mansfield sandstone bedrock was carved into the current distinct formations by glacial meltwaters and their associated erosion. Turkey Run features many common features of glaciation, including glacial erratics, till, and scoured canyons from erosion by melting glacial waters. (Source: Wikipedia, an editorial correction 7/13/12 prompted by commenter Linda—see below—who offered a more scientific explanation for my consideration that I am now passing on to readers)

I’m sure my husband tired of hearing me murmur, “I love the way this smells” and “This is so cool!” and “I can’t believe this is just a couple of hours from home!”

Reacting

This afternoon’s forthcoming article at The High Calling (Wednesday, July 11, 2 p.m. ET) is by Deidra Riggs, Managing Editor at The High Calling. She explores the question of whether or not women (or men) can “have it all.”It’s a response to the question posed in the cover story of the July/August 2012 issue of The Atlantic. I hope you slip over to read Deidra’s piece, perhaps weighing in with your own thoughts on the debate. (The High Calling link won’t work until after 2 p.m. ET.)

Writing

Would you like me to create for you a line drawing of an elephant holding an orange poppy in his trunk?

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: July 11, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

Continuing with chronological approach to reading through the Bible in a year.Also, I finished the memoir Buying a Piece of Paris, a light, predictable summer read. I thought that I might reach the end and long for a Paris apartment of my own, but no such desire awakened in me. I guess I’m a simple girl with simple tastes, a bit too enthralled with my RV to be seduced by la vie à Paris.I’m also continuing What Your Childhood Memories Say about You . . . and What You Can Do about It.

Learning

For over 20 years, I relied on a paper Dayrunner calendar clicked into a small three-ring notebook that I carried with me everywhere. I called it my external hard drive, an extension of my mainframe computer—referring, at that point, to my brain.If one of the kids told me about an event or appointment, I would plug my ears and say, “Until it’s recorded on my external hard drive, it’s as if we never had this conversation.” Only when an event was inked onto the calendar could a family member ensure something would take place.Late last summer, As our family approached the start of the 2011-2012 school year, our schedules were shifting a lot. I would record someone’s appointment only to be told of a reschedule. Again and again I’d scratch out the original entry and rewrite it on another page or draw an arrow from one day to the next. Eventually my Dayrunner pages looked like a preschooler took hold of a Spirograph and created a stringy, illegible series of scribbles.The Belgian Wonder urged me to switch to an electronic calendar. I resisted. He insisted I try.Finally, I gave in. I started typing in appointments, color-coding entries to match up events with family members. I reluctantly acknowledged several advantages, but I felt lost without my notebook.Shortly after the launch of this e-calendar experiment, one of the kids announced that a practice was rescheduled. After a brief sigh, I simply dragged the appointment to the new day and time. Boom. It was neatly recorded.No scribbles. No mess.I started to embrace the new gadget; to rely on it like a personal assistant. These days, I’d go so far as to admit that I cling to it like a lifeline.Some of its many advantages:

• My husband and kids can access it from their computers.
• If I type an event onto the computer calendar, it syncs to my phone.
• Ten minutes before an appointment, a polite sound alerts me to get ready. I can adjust the alarm if I need more time to prepare or travel to an event.
• I can bring up the app on my phone at the dentist office and schedule a follow-up appointment with a few taps on the screen.
• When I record an event on my phone, it syncs to the computer.
• I have a master-calendar in multiple places at once.

The external hard drive comparison is more literal than ever. When I relied on the notebook, I’d panic if I lost track of it because it replaced my memory and I had no backup—now I only panic if I can’t find my phone, which I would panic about regardless of the calendar app. If I lost my phone forever, I would still have my calendar online.Managing a family of six is never easy, but switching to an electronic calendar has made it easier. Thanks to this new mode of organization, I’m looking forward to fall without an accompanying sense of dread over how to keep everything straight.

Dayrunner calendar pages remain unused following adoption of e-calendar.

Playing

We invited friends over for a cookout on the Fourth of July.They brought half the food, including steak, which made my husband very happy.

Reacting

I picked up a magazine the other day in the doctor’s office waiting room and read about a family that rented out their house and drove off in an RV to see the country. The husband’s work allows him to work remotely, so they try to ensure quality Internet along the way. Because of their flexible schedule, they can drive for a day, arrive at a destination, and then stay for long stretches to really see the area. They homeschool their three girls, and meet up with friends along the way.I’m ready to follow in their tracks.Unfortunately, my husband’s job won’t allow him to work remotely…yet.Also, my kids aren’t keen on the idea.But the husband of the RV adventure mentioned the movie “Up.” He didn’t elaborate on how the movie affected their decision, but I keep thinking about the blank pages saved up in Ellie’s secret Adventure Book, marked: “Stuff I’m going to do.” In the beginning of the movie, Ellie looked forward to a life of travel and adventures with Carl, but everyday challenges siphoned away their savings and instead, they lived a quiet, simple life together.After Carl’s adventures throughout the film, he comes across Ellie’s book. He flips through the scrapbook and reminisces, then stops at her note “Stuff I’m going to do,” assuming those pages are blank. He knew they never went on those adventures she dreamed of, that she didn’t do the stuff she wanted to do.But the pages weren’t blank.She filled those pages with photos that chronicled their life together, simple as it was.She bloomed where she was planted, living a thankful, rich life with her husband. And even though she couldn’t accompany him, she thanked him for their shared adventure and sent him off to have new ones.I want to have that mindset, grateful for the life I’m living now, simple as it is, embracing as much adventure as possible with limited resources.It’s doubtful our family will be able to travel for months at a time any time soon, but I’m going to dream a little and plan as much as the family can and will support. I intend to move ahead with balance and sensitivity, wanting neither to force my hopes and dreams on them, nor to abandon my dreams in order to fulfill theirs.One day, I hope we’ll be posting photos from all over this nation, on an adventure of our own. In the meantime I’ll be building my list of “Stuff I’m going to do.”

Writing

Nothing to report.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: July 5, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

I’m an easily distracted reader—distracted by other books, that is—so even though I have two other titles in progress, I did go ahead and launch Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us, and already the opening story intrigues me. Author Daniel H. Pink tells about an experiment conducted with rhesus monkeys where researchers created a simple mechanical puzzle that would seem easy for a human but challenging for a lab monkey. After placing the puzzles in the cages, researchers observed initial reactions. This introduction was intended as preparation for problem-solving tests in a couple of weeks.Almost immediately, however, without any outside urging or prompting, the monkeys played with the puzzles “with focus, determination, and what looked like enjoyment. And in short order, they began figuring out how the contraptions worked” (Pink 2).Accepted ideas of the time would have assumed that the monkeys needed a little modeling of how the puzzle worked, or some prompting—a reward, perhaps, like food, affection, or even soft applause when they succeeded. Solving the puzzle resulted in no obvious gratification. What was happening?The researchers ran through all the usual motivations, and then landed on the possibility that there is a drive different from the others: that the performance of the task is itself a reward, an “intrinsic reward.”The monkeys simply liked solving the puzzles.Pink goes on to talk about other experiments that attempted to study motivation and gratification in humans, as well…and those studies revealed that we aren’t always enticed by a dangling carrot.Perhaps we dig into a new project or puzzle not because we’re getting paid for it, but simply because we’re curious. Maybe curiosity is the engine keeping us in motion, driving us until we’ve solved, completed, or in some cases mastered whatever is required with that particular undertaking.I don’t think that curiosity is Pink’s overarching theme of Chapter One, but it sure seems clear to me: The monkeys initially poked around with those puzzles out of curiosity.And I often do the same.I don’t mean that I poke around at puzzles out of curiosity. I mean broadly that curiosity engages and sustains my attention and interest more than any external reward until I have arrived at resolution, solution, or mastery. Whether I undertake a domestic interest such as learning a new recipe or a technological task such as learning a new program, curiosity sends me out to learn and grow.

Learning

Our second daughter just obtained her learner’s permit. I took her to the empty parking lot of a nearby church for her first informal driving lesson. This church lot, though small, happened to be the closest empty parking lot; it also happened to be the church where the Belgian Wonder and I were married.I slipped the car into park, turned off the engine and tossed the keys on the driver’s seat. Then I jumped out and ran around the van to ride shotgun while she ran around to take the driver’s seat. As she adjusted her chair (longer legs than mine) and settled in, I explained how to turn the key, press the brake, put the gear shift into D, and slowly accelerate. And how to stop. And how to turn left and right. And back up. And turn around.After we pretended to arrive at some stop signs and execute clean turns, I gave her the freedom to just drive wherever she wanted to in that tight area. She slowly swirled around the parking lot, weaving around light posts and bushes. She curved around one set of parking lines and pulled right in front of the church.”This is exactly how the limousine came down,” I said. “It drove up to this exact spot to pick up your papa and me on our wedding day to whisk us away to our hotel.””Really?” She seemed only mildly impressed with the first few minutes of my married life. After all, she was driving a car for the first time in her life.As I reminisced, she continued to practice turning around the parking lot, and I was glad I brought her there for her first attempts at maneuvering this vehicle. Learning to drive, like so many things, is a big undertaking, not to be entered into lightly.

Playing

Reading a book by someone named Daniel H. Pink may have influenced my decision to include these shots.But I did want to share with you the unusual number blooms on the hydrangea bushes. It’s a veritable explosion of pink.On the other side of the porch, the lilies are in bloom.This one seems so feminine, so delicate, each petal edged like the hem a swishy summer skirt.

Reacting

I have been praying for Colorado, clutching a proverbial mustard seed close to my heart and asking for mercy.Please send Your mercy, Lord. Please send rain.

Writing

What Your Childhood Memories Say about You . . . and What You Can Do about It by Kevin Leman has encouraged me to scribble down some of my childhood memories, preserving them in quiet places. I hold them there to ponder, to consider how they formed me, and to discover what I might need to do about them today.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: June 27, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

I finished Blink. I preferred Outliers, but I can’t seem to pinpoint exactly why. I just know it.Ahem. That’s kind of a Blink-joke.On vacation I began Buying a Piece of Paris, a memoir of a woman trying to buy an apartment in Paris. I’m also continuing What Your Childhood Memories Say about You . . . and What You Can Do about It.

Learning

I need to live closer to the Gulf.Look what happens to me after just a few days on the beach:

Playing

Storms rolled across Alabama and the Florida panhandle as we drove south. By the time we hit the beach, the water was full of bright green seaweed stirred up by the winds and waves. But the kids dove in anyway and came out with tiny scraps of slippery, brilliant, saltwater plant life stuck to their cheeks and looped into their hair.After a day of splashing, sunning, relaxing, walking, and playing on the beach, we headed back to the campground. We stepped into the RV to gather clean clothes and shower bags.”Something stinks in here!” one of the girls exclaimed.”Oh, no,” I sighed. “Must be something in the fridge.””No, it’s in here!” she said, wrinkling up her nose as she stepped into the RV bathroom to grab her shampoo.I leaned in. It definitely smelled weird. “I’d better tell your papa. Maybe something’s wrong with the tank.” We’re new to the RV life and how to deal with the “black water” tank, which is a nice way of referencing the “waste” or “poo” tank. Maybe we need to drain it more often or drop in another of the deodorizing packets?”It’s in here, too!” one of the girls shouted. She was in the hallway, opening the clothes closet.”That could still be wafting down the hall from the fridge,” I said. “Or, if there’s some huge problem, maybe the tank is stinking up this whole place?”Everybody was moaning from the stench, so we rushed out of the RV. The Belgian Wonder was outside. “Can you check things in the RV?” I asked. “Something smells weird. Really weird.”He nodded and promised to investigate.The girls and I each had a shower at the bath house, luxuriating in the warm water washing away sand and salt. Suddenly, several stalls down, I heard my eldest shout, “Mom! It’s us!”I wasn’t sure what she said. “What?””It’s US!””What’s us?””It’s us! The smell! It’s US!“And then, lifting like steam from each shower stall, bursts of laughter rose as each of us came to the realization that the stench in the RV was, indeed, originating from us. Everywhere we turned in that tight RV space, we’d been smelling the unidentifiable, unpleasant aroma of damp-but-drying seaweed. My youngest daughter’s swimsuit bottoms were designed as a pair of shorts with little pockets; she flipped them inside out to discover wads of green that she rinsed away.Over the sound of running water, across the tops of several shower stalls, I tried to explain to the girls the old POGO cartoon that recognized, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” They didn’t get it. But I did. And I kept chuckling about us as we walked back to the campsite, holding our swimsuits at arm’s length.

Reacting

Hurtling down the interstate in, basically, a small apartment, left me shaky for about half of the first day, as I adjusted to its noises rumbling over bumpy roads. This is not the quiet, smooth ride of a well-designed passenger vehicle. This is a house on wheels, not known for its aerodynamically fluid design. While the Belgian Wonder worked to center this giant moving castle in the lane, I tried to calm myself, slowing the adrenaline shooting through my system. Though it took half the day for me to relax and settle in, he earned my admiration.When I finally learned to rest into the space, I realized that if this was indeed a kind of moving castle, then I sat high on a throne overlooking the world as it slid past. Through walls of glass, hills undulated at movie-theater-proportions, magnified, vast. This is a wonderful way to admire the landscape, with views far more generous than what a Toyota Corolla can offer through its diminutive windshield.

Writing

Oh…am I supposed to be writing?

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: June 20, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

A bit more to go in Blink. And I’ve got a couple more titles queued and ready for the hammock: Buying a Piece of Paris (recommended and given to me by a good friend) and What Your Childhood Memories Say about You . . . and What You Can Do about It (I’ve got some remembering to do).May I suggest that you consider some slow-down summer reading? My hope is that Not So Fast: Slow-Down Solutions for Frenzied Families will provide ideas, encouragement, and real solutions for families seeking their ideal, God-given pace. Read it this summer, when life is a little slower; incorporate changes in fall, when schedules speed up.As you read, write about your discoveries and link up on Fridays with Michelle Derusha‘s new new community, “Graceful Summer,” which starts this Friday. Michelle describes it as a place “where we highlight the slower, quieter moments of summer.”

Learning

Do not use expired sunscreen.That’s all I have to say about that.

Playing

Reacting

Regardless of the expired sunscreen, life is good.

Writing

Sometimes, instead of writing, we play.

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: June 13, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

I finished a book called Curious? Although I wouldn’t urge you to rush out and read the whole book, I found some sections interesting enough to collect on my Tumblr blog.The author offers some descriptions of how people remain curious into adulthood.”Based on several studies, we have some tentative answers about the type of behaviors at age 20 and 40 that predict openness, curiosity, and the ability to handle and even embrace uncertainty at 60…Those college-aged youngsters identified as very curious in later adulthood had several characteristics in common:

• They had rich emotional lives filled with both positive and negative feelings (further evidence that negative emotions are not ‘bad’).
• They were actively searching for meaning in life (this included questioning authority and dominant, widely accepted ideas).
• They didn’t experience themselves as being restricted by social norms.
• They chose careers that gave them opportunities to be genuine, authentic, independent, and creative.”(Kashdan 33-34)

He concludes that a “hyperfocus on seeking security, avoiding distress, and sticking to a comfortable routine lessens one’s curiosity and, in turn, satisfaction and meaning in life” (34).In a section titled “The ‘Big Five’ Benefits of Harnessing Curiosity,” he begins with “Health.”

More than 2,000 older adults aged 60-86 were carefully observed over a five-year period and those who were more curious at the beginning of the study were more likely to be alive at the end of the study, even after taking into account age, whether they smoke, the presence of cancer or cardiovascular disease, and all the rest of the usual markers.

Want to live longer? Be curious!

Learning

The book includes some “measurement tools.” I took “The Curiosity and Exploration Inventory-II” and felt kind of sad. I guess I’m a lifelong learner, but less curious overall than I thought. I can’t type out the entire inventory, but it included questions like, “I am the type of person who really enjoys the uncertainty of everyday life,” “I like to do things that are a little frightening,” and “I prefer jobs that are excitingly unpredictable.”I had to be honest and admit that I avoid frightening things and prefer a little predictability. Phooey.I did better with a few of the questions, such as “I actively seek as much information as I can in new situations,” which I think is fairly true of me. Also, “I frequently seek out opportunities to challenge myself and grow as a person.”To exercise and increase curiosity, I guess I need to embrace a little uncertainty.And fear.

Playing

About a year ago, my son announced that he wanted to play cello. I promised to look into it but asked him to faithfully practice piano in the meantime. I wanted to test his commitment to music in general. Plus, I didn’t look forward to renting a cello if it was a passing fancy.Well, he did what I asked. For an entire school year, he practiced piano and continued to ask about cello.That seemed like more than a passing fancy, so I arranged for him to take his first cello lesson on Tuesday night. He seems engaged and eager to learn, eager to practice, eager to listen to that rich sound flow out of the instrument. The young woman giving him lessons is a cello performance major, home for the summer. He has a lot to learn before she goes back to college in September.It’s a good start for a young man who wants to do more than play the Wii. If a 10-year-old boy wants to play an instrument, it seems we should do what we can to support that interest.

Reacting

A couple of weeks ago, I was feeling crummy. Like someone punched me in the face. I woke exhausted regardless of how much sleep I got. When I jogged, I felt fluid slosh behind my eardrums. Basically, I was…bleh. The doctor loves it when I’m specific like that. Helps with her diagnosis, I’m sure.She popped that skinny black piece onto her light and looked in my ears, up my nose and into my throat. She felt my lymph glands and listened to my lungs.Finally, she declared that I had a sinus infection and sent me off with a prescription for antibiotics. A few days after a ten-day treatment, I woke up feeling crummier than ever. In addition, I felt a little loopy…my thoughts fuzzy, fading in and out at times.I returned to the doctor and shared those precise medical terms to aid her diagnosis: crummy, loopy, fuzzy, fading. She nodded.Then she popped that skinny black piece onto her light again and looked in my ears, up my nose and into my throat. She felt my lymph glands and listened to my lungs.It was still the darned sinus infection, more intense than ever.More meds.I’m still a little fuzzy in the head, though. I decided not to blog until the last minute…in case it all came out weird.Then I thought, for all I know, it always comes out weird and a fuzzy, loopy post might seem like standard Ann Kroeker prose.{shrug}

Writing

Well, so much for my gung-ho writing plans. I thought I’d have written so many blog posts by now that I’d be scheduling them two weeks out.

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: June 6, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

I’m reading Curious? and Blink and Think and What Your Childhood Memories Say about You.Four very different books. There’s too much in them to summarize in this limited space, so I’ll write about each of them later.

Learning

Nobody tells beginners that when you have good taste, and you’re creating art, you’ll create a lot of work that falls short of what you want it to be.Glass: “It’s only by creating a volume of work that you’re actually going to catch up and close that gap and the work you’re creating is going to be as good as your ambitions.”I’d better get busy.

Playing

When I was little, I loved to dress up as animals, especially a cat, dog, or pony. Mom would humor me by making ears and a tail for each animal. She’d cut the ears from felt and attach them to headbands, then use yarn or some old black material to stitch up something tail-like that satisfied me.I’d don the ears and safety pin the tail to a leotard, then proceed to crawl on all fours throughout the house, meowing or barking or whinnying until my knees were red and my voice was hoarse.One day, I was a parrot. I assume that Mom glued together some kind of tail by plucking feathers from an old feather duster; I don’t remember if she made a beak. What I do remember is sitting on the kitchen counter, perched near the sink, feeling the sun shining on my left cheek. Mom stood next to me, working, busily chopping vegetables for dinner or stirring together a casserole. I stuffed my hands up in my armpits to form wings and squawked “Polly want a cracker!” maybe 20 times. Each time, even though she was busy with meal preparations, Mom would stop what she was doing, break a saltine cracker apart, and pop bits of it in my mouth. My mouth was dry—the saliva soaked into cracker after cracker. Yet, I continued, because I had figured out a way to have my mom poke crackers in my mouth again and again, even though I was far too old to be fed.

Writing

Someone asked me just today, “So, what projects are you working on? Are you writing a book?”People ask me this a lot. It’s a natural question, since I’m an author. If I were meeting me for lunch, that would be one of the questions I’d ask.I’m sorry to report to you, just as I did to her, that I am not writing a book right now.I’d like to be writing a book right now, but I’m not.For now, I’m going to begin enjoying summer, because I am finally free from teaching and grading. I’m going to let my creativity meander, and as I read and think and pray, I do hope that a book idea will emerge.So I may not be writing a book, but I will be writing, because that Ira Glass video (see “Learning”) urges me to produce more. A lot more.

Reacting

I love summer. 

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Notebook and splash images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: May 30, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

Reading

About 20 years ago, a career change resulted in unexpected freedom to reinvent my life. Having quit a full-time job at a church, I could suddenly explore possibilities. My husband encouraged me to take my time and refrain from settling for something bland simply because it offered a paycheck.I know. He’s amazing.Well, during those years on staff at the church, I’d been developing administrative skills. But believe me, organization is not my natural bent. I’d been directing drama sketches, as well, and while I’m creative, I’m not born for the theater. Nothing I’d been doing seemed like a perfect fit, so I felt the need to explore all options. Hopeful and curious, I pulled off the library shelves books like What Color Is Your Parachute? Nothing was helping much, however, until one afternoon at the library when I spotted a title at the end of a shelf. It caught my eye because I thought it said “Witchcraft.” Shocked at the audacity, I stared at the unexpectedly bright and colorful cover design.When I got closer, I saw that the title was Wishcraft: How to Get What You Really Want. Ah, wishcraft. Whew! Interested in the author’s approach to “wishing”, I tossed the book on my stack and took it home.Once I opened the book and read the first few pages, I reached for my journal to scribble responses to the exercises designed to reveal long-lost dreams and wishes for what might have been. The idea being, of course, that if those dreams and wishes are resurrected, revisited, and revised into actual goals, what might have been can turn into what will be.Those exercises—that book—led to my confident pursuit of a writing life.While I am not the most prolific nor widely known writer, I am grateful to have moved toward that goal.With one exception—a deep longing to live near the beach—I’m living the life I wanted, the life that I felt the Lord was pointing me to pursue.The other night, I found myself wondering about Wishcraft. I ended up discovering that the entire book is available for free online at wishcraft.com. Each chapter is downloadable as a pdf file.I’ve been reading through the chapters again, pausing to revisit some of the exercises. It seems wise to go through them periodically, as I move into new phases of life. So far, I seem to have stayed true to my earliest dreams—even the simpler, smaller wishes and daydreams.Missing from the book is any sense of Christ-centeredness. The book doesn’t lead the reader to live a life worthy of the Lord, a life submitted to Him. I added that perspective on my own, and I do hope that my dreams, wishes and goals reflect my faith in Him to lead me along the way.Now, in fact, I’m looking forward to guiding my kids through a similar process in hopes that they will pursue a life that reflects how God has made them and His desire for what they do with this one wild and precious life they’ve been given.

Learning

Have I already posted this? If so, I refuse to apologize, as we should all watch it again.

Playing

While trying to describe the above video to my high school composition students, I imitated Annie Sullivan and demonstrated how she placed Helen’s hands on her throat, mouth and nose. And then, because I like to mimic, I created an Annie Sullivan voice.On the last day of co-op, the students claimed that they will carry my Annie Sullivan impersonation with them the rest of their lives. And then, one by one, they each stretched out one of their hands, positioning their fingers on their own throats, mouths and noses while attempting a voice characterized by precise diction.I am happy to recreate this performance on demand.

Writing

Watch out! School is wrapping up, so as soon as I turn in grades next week, I am free to focus on writing. Unless family disruptions alter my plans, I anticipate a more creative, prolific and vibrant set of posts this summer. Will you be around to read them?

Reacting

For old time’s sake, I did a couple of the exercises in Chapter 3 of Wishcraft. One of the author’s suggestions is to list 20 things you like to do. You have to make it to 20, but the last few entries can be simple (ride a bike, drink hot chocolate, stare at sunsets), because even simple activities reflect a person’s personality.After generating the list, I was to make a little chart and determine:

• How long since last done?
• Costs money or free?
• Alone or with someone?
• Planned or spontaneous?
• Job related?
• Physical risk?
• Fast or slow-paced?
• Mind, body or spiritual?

I probably shouldn’t do this exercise on the last day of school, when I’m worn and weary. My list, including such entries as “read”, “write”, “take pictures,” and “drink a pot of tea,” is void of adventure as it reflects the desire for a low-cost, low-key, low-risk, slow-paced, quiet, contemplative lifestyle.

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: May 23, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

After lunch on Sunday, I said I was sleepy.”Lie in the hammock, Mom,” the kids said. “It’s Mother’s Day. You should relax.”I took their advice. After scooping up my pillow and an old flowered comforter from my bedroom, I headed through the living room, where I snagged a bag of books on my way to the back yard. I spread the comforter over the ropes and then hopped onto the hammock. It swayed for quite a while, then slowed. Once I was relatively stable, I reached into my bag and pulled out a book: Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life.All afternoon, I lay in that hammock, reading that book, sensing situational irony.In the book, Miller describes the process of working with two guys, a filmmaker and cinematographer, to edit his memoir, Blue Like Jazz, into a movie.The idea is that this memoir must be revised from a series of thoughts and essays to form a somewhat fictionalized narrative, complete with compelling characters, a storyline that sustains interest, and a theme (and resolution) that satisfies.The three guys struggle to get started, to find the story.The filmmaker, Steve, explains that in a story, “there is a purpose in every scene, in every line of dialogue. A movie is going somewhere.”The cinematographer, Ben, says, “What Steve is trying to say…is that your real life is boring” (25).I certainly couldn’t depict a scene from my life to better represent that statement. At that moment, I was a suburban mom of four wrapped in a floral comforter, swaying in a hammock.Your real life is boring.Unlike my life, Miller’s real-life storyline certainly picked up. He shifted from sleeping in with no particular purpose or plan for his life, to hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, cycling across the nation to raise money for clean water, hiking the Columbia River Gorge, and kayaking up the Jervis Inlet in British Columbia. He contacted his dad, whom had never known, and met up with him in Indiana, where he forgave him for leaving the family. He started The Mentoring Project, serves on the President’s task force on Fatherhood and Healthy Families, teaches a course designed to help people understand and organize their lives using the elements of story (similar to his personal journey chronicled in this book). He speaks, blogs, tweets, writes.He does all that. Oh, and he managed to finish that movie script, too.I guess he pretty successfully edited his life.After reading the last lines of A Million Miles, I stuffed it in the bag and stared up at the tree branches. Late afternoon sunlight streaked over the roof of the house and hit the upper branches of the tree.My husband came out to check on me.”Our lives are boring,” I said.”Are they?”I stared at scraps of blue sky visible through the leaves. “Look at me!” I exclaimed. “I’ve been lying on a hammock all day by myself, reading a book.””Did you enjoy it?””I loved it.””Then it’s not boring.””But…”My husband opened the porch door and came out to the hammock. “And four kids? That’s an adventure.””I suppose.””I just dug out the garden so we can plant.””That’s not an adventure.””I know. But it’s good, isn’t it?””Yes, it’s very good.”He grinned and left to go jogging. I stayed in the hammock and stared a while longer, wondering.

Learning

As one of my daughters works on a leaf collection for her biology class, I’m remembering how much I enjoyed collecting and identifying leaves when I was young.Her assignment inspired me, so I decided to start again as an adult. Instead of pressing and mounting leaves in a scrapbook, however, I plan to display them digitally—a virtual leaf collection.

Black Oak (Latin Name: Quercus velutina)

Some kind of oak

Northern White Cedar?

Playing

While walking through the neighborhood snapping pictures of leaves, I noticed all the flowers in bloom.Just as I am attempting to create a virtual leaf collection, it’s kind of fun to assemble some virtual bouquets, as well. Love these cheery, casual daisies. But the peonies? Spectacular!

Writing

Last week I described a writing exercise called a “Comment Box Essay.” I intended to post one on Monday, but the week expanded, filling like a sponge, squeezing out my good intentions. Next thing you know, I wrote a long response to an article at The High Calling and left it in the comments.And then I realized, “Hey! I think I just wrote a Comment Box Essay!”(See the essay—kind of a personal, reflective essay, I guess—below, under “Reacting”)

Reacting

Bradley’s post on Tuesday at The High Calling reminded me of my first job as a library page.My work was to shelve returned books, “read” the shelves (which was to ensure that books were in their proper order so patrons could find them), and check out books at the counter. While reading shelves, we were expected to pull all of the books to the edge and line them up straight, making them easy to reach.The library was like heaven to me: free access to all those books, all that knowledge, all those stories. I was delighted to do the boring tasks of getting those books in the right place, pulling them to the edge, reorganizing to perfection. During that job, I was helping people like me, who were always on the prowl for a new title. I served people. I appreciated the work of a library.For that brief time in my life, my work as a library page was both job and calling: I was tickled to get a paycheck, so I appreciated that it was a job; but I understood how I was serving the community. I loved it so much, I almost pursued a degree in library science.I think it met all the criteria mentioned in the article to qualify as a calling: (1) I emphasized service; (2) I focused on excellence and “craftsmanship” in my work (not sure about the craftsmanship of library work, but I occasionally got to repair books with thick, clear tape, and I took great pains to do a good job so that the book got a second life); and (3) I de-emphasized money.Even today, when I am nothing more than an everyday patron, I have reached up to straighten chaotic shelves at the library. Sometimes, while I’m browsing, I reach in and pull the books to the edge, making sure they are all lined up, easy to access, nice and straight.

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: May 16, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I just finished The Pursuit of God, by A.W. Tozer:

a simple but motivating reminder to seek God in the midst of everyday life…written by someone who obviously practiced what he preached. His love for the Lord inspires.

Time to update my status on Goodreads.

Learning

My mind is not exactly a steel trap. In the past, I attempted to memorize passages of Scripture, but the words quickly slipped into the cobwebby corners of my mind and faded to a forgotten gray.

To have any hope of locking them in, I simply must be diligent to revisit and resurrect those selections to review and refresh my mind. I took my husband’s suggestion to type them up and create a pdf file to load onto my Kindle, so I can click on it each morning after I’ve read my daily passage of Scripture.

He’s brilliant. Having the memory work so handy has made a world of difference. I inevitably misplace or lose notebooks and card systems (I would have been a terrible Navigator) but I work hard to keep track of my Kindle.

I look forward to maintaining this daily practice, perhaps one of the four decisions that will transform my life.

Playing

Writing about the cocoa? That was fun. Gross, but fun.

Writing

You may recall from last week that I want to improve my writing. At Scott Russell Sanders’ suggestion, I am going to read, analyze, and learn from quality literature, practicing various skills.

To that end, the other day I read one of his short essays, a memory from childhood involving a Luna Moth. impressed with his description, I let my mind dredge up a childhood memory of my own and recalled the cocoa incident. Without taking a lot of time to plan, I wrote the story, trying to tap into at least three senses (advice from Gregory Wolfe, which I’ve preserved in another post from last fall, under “learning”). I decided to go ahead and share the little writing exercise on my blog on Monday, as practice became post.

Now that I’m considering this part of my weekly routine, I hunted down ideas. A quick search turned up an article offering several ideas, including the “Comment Box Essay.” The author suggests visiting a favorite blog and reading the main article. Then, click on comments and compose a response that would normally enter the comment thread. However, instead of publishing the comment, stop. Copy-paste that response into a new post at my own blog and revise it to become a full-length post of my own (linking back to the original inspiration).

By responding to writing with more writing, we create a bigger conversation on a given topic.I love the idea, so keep your eye open for a Comment Box Essay.

Reacting

What joy to hear Amber Haines read aloud, on the radio, my contribution to Mother Letters (see sidebar for affiliate link with Mother’s Day sale codes).

She’s got a clear, yet soothing, Southern accent…a much better representative for Not So Fast than my brisk, clipped Northern voice.

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: May 9, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I’m chewing on these excerpts, especially the lines I’ve highlighted in bold, from The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer (free Kindle version):

The stiff and wooden quality about our religious lives is a result of our lack of holy desire. Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth. Acute desire must be present or there will be no manifestation of Christ to His people. He waits to be wanted. (loc. 145)A loving Personality dominates the Bible, walking among the trees of the garden and breathing fragrance over every scene. Always a living Person is present, speaking, pleading, loving, working, and manifesting Himself whenever and wherever His people have the receptivity necessary to receive the manifestation. (loc. 446, 453)Our pursuit of God is successful just because He is forever seeking to manifest Himself to us. (loc 584)

Why do some persons “find” God in a way that others do not? Why does God manifest His Presence to some and let multitudes of others struggle along in the half-light of imperfect Christian experience? Of course the will of God is the same for all. He has no favorites within His household. All He has ever done for any of His children He will do for all of His children. The difference lies not with God but with us. (Loc 594, 599)They [saints] differed from the average person in that when they felt the inward longing they did something about it. They acquired the lifelong habit of spiritual response…As David put it neatly, “When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek.” (loc 604, 609)

Learning

Though my computer keyboard was teeming with bacteria last week when the eager, curious student swabbed it for a science demonstration, I’m happy to report that the petri dish carefully labeled “Mrs. Kroeker’s Computer Keyboard” wasn’t the worst offender. Sure, we exclaimed over the yellow gunk growing vigorously in almost all of the petri dishes, but the one that practically sprouted arms and legs to climb out of the glass container was…the dish rag.Swap out your dish rag often. Wash in hot water. Use bleach.The teacher pointed out one of the dishes that was growing yellow gunk. “This one,” she said, “was the stair railing. We swabbed it, and then afterwards, I swiped some Purellon the same spot and swabbed a second time, to compare. And look!” She pointed to the petri dish labeled as the railing swiped with Purell. It showed only the tiniest specks of growth. The teacher exclaimed, “That stuff works!”Also, I’d like to report that as soon as I knew my keyboard had been swabbed, I searched the Internet for how to clean the thing and used these instructions to sterilize it. Next time you shake my hand, be not afraid.But if you ask to use my laptop to write a quick e-mail or check Facebook, please understand if I hand you a bottle of Purell, first. It’s nothing personal.

Playing

Charity joined me on a short road trip to hear a lecture by author Scott Russell Sanders. He offered a few remarks about the wonder of libraries and then read the short essay “Hunger for Books” from his book The Country of Language. In the hushed air of his small town library, he could “follow any question wherever it led, and all for free.” That was me. That was my childhood.

Like sunshine, like the urgency of spring, like bread, language is so familiar that we easily forget what an amazing gift it is…Surely this is what most clearly distinguishes us as a species, the ability to accumulate knowledge and to pass it on. We pass it on by word of mouth, we pass it on by example, we pass it on in films and tapes and disks, in magazines and newspapers, but above all we pass it on in books. (30, 31)

At risk of sounding like a technophobe, he applauded the strengths of the printed, bound, physical book. The kind we carry with us, tucked in our backpacks, purses or pockets.

I’m still devoted to the humble book. A book requires no electricity. It is portable, made for the hand and pocket. It invites but does not demand our attention, and it leaves us time to think. We can enter or leave a book just as we choose, and we can interrupt our reading to burp a baby or pay a bill or ponder a cloud. A good book appeals to what is best in us, without trying to sell us anything. (31)

As he read, I found myself in the description of the curious kid searching for answers to simple questions about constellations and Native Americans and muskrats. I loved the library. I would check out an armful and drink deeply of the ideas, explanations, stories and inspiration. Books were my food and the library was an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord.

[T]he best books invite us to share in a sustained, complex, subtle effort to make sense of things, to understand some portion of our humanity and our universe. As long as there are people hungry for such understanding, there will be people hungry for books…even now, after devouring so many thousands of books, I am as ravenous as ever. (32)

Hearing him read, I heard, even felt, myself in his rich descriptions of libraries, books, words, ideas. I sat in that chair—Ann the reader, the writer—and I grew hungry for more: more from him (I bought two of his books), and more from me (I resolved to work harder at my craft).

Writing

Charity and I lingered after the lecture to ask Scott Russell Sanders (SRS) a couple of questions. I asked about improving my craft. I mentioned that MFA programs had tempted me as a way to take my work to the next level. Should I explore that? Or is there a way to achieve a level of excellence and artistry on my own?If I wanted to pursue an MFA, he suggested I look into low-residency programs. But he assured me that finding like-minded writers to form a writing group could achieve a similar end. Gather some working writes who share an inner drive to develop themselves, he said. A group like that could provide a rewarding level of stimulation, evaluation and interaction.The group could read the same book together (poetry, essays, fiction) and discuss why it works—dissect it and learn from the writing in order to apply those principles to our own projects.He thought it could be done.Charity’s feeling pretty well situated, as she recently joined a writer’s group committed to that very process.I figure at the very least, I can read and dissect some books on my own. I bought two of SRS’s books. Perhaps I’ll start with those. After all, as he read, my heart raced a little and I held my breath. When he paused between selections, I scribbled in my notebook, “I want to write like that.” And then I underlined it. Twice.

Reacting

A discussion with my 10-year-old son:Son: You’re like God to me.Me: Really? How?Son: I mean you’re like a God example to me.Me: I’m not perfect, though. And God’s perfect. So, is that such a good idea for me to be an example of God?Son: It’s okay. No one is a perfect example, because no one is perfect. Everyone sins. I just mean that parents in Christian homes can be that for their children. Christian parents are like God to their kids because you love them, you teach them to do the good things and not the bad. That’s pretty much like God. He tells you what to do and what not to do and loves us infinitely.Me: We do that?Son: Yes!Me: That’s a pretty big responsibility.Son: It’s not really a responsibility. It’s just something you naturally do. You naturally love me and teach me.All of that occurred shortly after he finished his third bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

* * * * *

Notebook and keyboard images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: May 2, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

Still reading Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School. I finished a chapter on memory and stopped halfway through a chapter on sleep. I set the book to one side and took a nap. Seriously, if you don’t feel free to take a nap while reading a chapter on the effect of sleep on the brain, when will you?If you’re interested in a summary of the entire book, Laura Boggess published a review at The High Calling this week.I’ve also been reading The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer (free Kindle version). He described how the worshipper moved closer and closer to the Presence of God in the Old Testament tabernacle, but remained separated from His Presence by the veil. That veil, however, was rent when Jesus “gave up the ghost on Calvary,” opening the way for every worshipper to come  “by the new and living way straight into the divine Presence.” The following thought wasn’t new or clever; it was just so inviting, I wanted to share it:

Everything in the New Testament accords with this Old Testament picture. Ransomed men need no longer pause in fear to enter the Holy of Holies. God wills that we should push on into His Presence and live our whole life there. (Location 319, 27%, Kindle edition)

Learning

Today I created a simple “texture” background for my blog. I thinks it looks like a closeup of a canvas; my husband thinks it looks like chain-mail. [Updated 4-28-12 to a more canvas-y looking texture.]

Playing

The Festival was so fun, it felt like three-and-a-half days of play.

Writing

I’m continuing to process information and inspiration from the Festival of Faith and Writing, reading through notes and other people’s summaries, working up plans for what to do next.Ideas are gestating.

Reacting

This week at our homeschool co-op, I was chatting with some of the moms in the kitchen where I’d plugged in my laptop to charge the battery. Before I realized what was happening, a young boy about 10 or 11 years old rushed into the kitchen and whipped out a long  swab, hovering expectantly over my computer keyboard. “Do you mind?” he asked quickly, excitedly. “It’s for science class!””Uh, sure,” I replied, watching him swipe the fluffy white tip across the letters G, H, and J, and then slide it across the space bar. He plunged the swab back into its sterile plastic packaging and raced off.I was left standing at my computer, wondering how many times I sneeze or dribble cookie crumbs onto my keyboard. I thought of all those Dr. Oz, 20/20 and Oprah shows there they swabbed public telephones and door knobs and grew germs in petri dishes to discover bacteria, viruses and horrifying things like E.coli. I never clean my keyboard. What will they find?I thought about it all the way home. Finally, when I arrived at home, I wrote a note to the science teacher:

If something horrifying grows in the petri dish, can you accidentally destroy the evidence? We can call the scandal “Coop-gate.”Seriously, though, I couldn’t believe it when I saw vague things on the notecards saying, “stair rail,” “door handle,” and then there was one labeled: “Mrs. Kroeker’s computer.” Ack!

She made no promises to protect my dignity.We shall wait a week to find out what lives at my fingertips. She said her goal was to help them identify the dirtiest places in the building where we meet for our weekly co-op…in order to avoid them. “I’ll let you know about your computer,” she said.I can just picture the kids walking past the kitchen table where I grade papers, wrinkling their noses and shaking their heads in disgust, giving me a wide berth.

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Notebook and keyboard images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: April 25, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

As I mentioned on Tuesday, the Mother Letters e-book is now on sale. I’m honored that Amber and Seth included my letter in the collection, and I’m delighted to celebrate and promote the work by participating in their affiliate program. If you click on the book widget below and buy a copy of Mother Letters, I will receive a commission. I’m one of many who believe the content is worth investing in.

Learning

John Medina, in his book Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School, says he asks a question of students in every college course he teaches: “Given a class of medium interest, not too boring and not too exciting, when do you start glancing at the clock, wondering when the class will be over?”After a little shuffling of papers, hemming and hawing, someone will blurt out, “Ten minutes.”They start to lose attention at the ten-minute mark.Medina says, “Peer-reviewed studies confirm my informal inquiry: Before the quarter-hour is over in a typical presentation, people usually have checked out” (74).He recommends planning presentations in 10-minute “modules,” if you will, each module representing one big idea. Introduce the idea with a one-minute story or something that will capture attention and then spend the following nine minutes explaining it. As the timer ticks into the ninth minute, though, wrap it up.To successfully reboot audience attention for the following ten-minute segment, he has found success by telling another attention-grabbing story, demonstration or activity (it must be relevant to the information presented) that either wraps up the current point or introduces the next. He often speaks on topics associated with the brain and finds that curious case studies related to unusual pathology effectively engage his students with the material.By making that effort to divide up the presentation into 10-minute units, the speaker works with our brains’ natural tendencies, helping listeners pay attention and retain information.

Playing

Festival of Faith & Writing, here I come!While at the Festival, I’ll be tweeting using the official #ffwgr hashtag.[blackbirdpie url=”https://twitter.com/#!/FFWgr/status/192443416150409216″]As you can see above, the Festival Twitter handle is @FFWgr. If I have time, I may post a few thoughts on Facebook and my blog, as well, as I process the flood of information and stories. If not, I have prepared a Food on Fridays post unrelated to the Festival (but whole-foods healthy).I’ll also be listening to see if any of the speakers naturally employ the ten-minute-segment technique or other attention-grabbing elements. I won’t be judging, of course…only curious.

Writing

Do you know any good sources for sample essays I could include in teaching materials? I’m teaching another high school writing class next year, and one of my biggest frustrations this year was that I couldn’t find solid essay models for the students to learn from. If you know of a source or would be willing to share one of your own with me, including permission to distribute for this class, I’d appreciate your help. I’d love to collect good, solid examples of the following:

• Basic, Informational Essay
• Definition Essay
• Compare-Contrast Essay
• Persuasive Essay (especially one that models how to build a solid, logical argument)
• Narrative Essay (this is the easiest to find, as many blog posts fit this)
• Critical Essay

Have you written something like this at your blog or for a class? Have you seen something online that I could ask for permission to use in class?

Reacting

Back in January I bought a Groupon for a massage. I saved it for quite a while, as we were dealing with situations that made it difficult to get away for a chunk of time. Then, I got a break.Last week, I went in for my long-awaited treat. I’ve only had three massages over the course of my life, so I don’t have a lot to compare. However, I do think this was the best I’ve ever had. She concentrated on my back and shoulders, working to relax tight muscles.That afternoon and the next day my back felt good-sore, like my legs feel after a long run. Later, I felt flexible. Relaxed. Renewed.I phoned my friend and left a voice message: “I think any revisions to health care in America should include regular, mandatory massages. It would help with job creation as out-of-work people could be trained in massage therapy to help meet demands. And it could promote peace in our nation, as everyone would just kind of chill out.”

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: April 18, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

Thanks to my new Kindle Touch, I finished Forgotten God: Reversing Our Tragic Neglect of the Holy Spirit by Francis Chan and continue my one-year Bible reading plan. I downloaded several classics and a book about stress. Today I nabbed a free subscription to Kenyon Review. And I’ve been learning how to download a Kindle book from Project Gutenberg via their mobile page and drag it over to my Kindle files.Free = fun.

Learning

With all of my Kindle resources, you wouldn’t think I’d bother with bound books. But the library is a siren, wooing me to browse her collections. Last time I went, I came home with a book called Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School, by John Medina.The name Medina sounded familiar. A quick search confirmed that L.L. Barkat referenced his work while researching and writing a series for The High Calling last year. What fun to also uncover a 2006 interview with Medina at The High Calling by Marcus Goodyear. In more than one of Medina’s responses in the interview “From Curiosity to Jesus,” he refers to the power of curiosity:

Curiosity means more to me than I can tell you. It even influences my theology. If you are curious enough about your origins, you’ll bump face-to-face with Jesus Christ—because nobody else is out there.Curiosity has the strong ability to make you look at the world with wide-eyed wonder and say, “Man, how was this made?”

In Brain Rules, Medina explains biological and even, in his view, evolutionary explanations for the way our brains function and why they respond in certain ways. His basic ideas are helpful and practical. The first chapter reminded me to get up and move more often because exercise provides a host of health benefits, dramatically improving (among other things) cognitive functioning.Exercise, he says, can be used as a tool of intervention in mental health issues and is especially helpful for severe cases and for older people. Kids learn better when they’re active, and everyone can fight off dementia and Alzheimer’s by staying active. In the laboratory, Medina said, “the gold standard appears to be aerobic exercise, 30 minutes at a clip, two or three times a week. Add a strengthening regimen and  you get even more cognitive benefit” (Medina 15).I read all this to my husband and he pointed out that his cardiologist recommends a minimum of 30 minutes of aerobic exercise five times a week, her focus being on heart health, of course. We can argue the frequency and duration; we can discuss the benefits of various types of aerobic activities. But the main point? Exercise.It’s not new information, really, but an important reminder: exercise is good for my body and my brain.

Playing

Last week, we were on Spring Break. We haven’t gone out and done much as a family for quite some time, so we decided to pack a bunch of fun into one day:First, a movie (“Mirror, Mirror”). Next, lunch at Penn Station.After that, bowling followed by miniature golf.Two of the girls had soccer practice that night, so they headed over for drills and a scrimmage. An hour-and-a-half later they returned with a friend and two boxes of take-out pizza.We played more in one day than we have in months.

Writing

A friend of mine reminded me of the “pensieve” in Harry Potter, a bowl into which one can pour memories in order to look at them with fresh eyes. I’ve been doing that privately, without the actual bowl, pouring memories onto paper or screen. By doing so, I hope to look at them with fresh eyes.

Reacting

My son turned to me at dinner last night and asked, “Is being a parent hard work?”I hardly knew what to respond. “Sometimes,” I began.”Depends on how good the kids are, maybe?” he surmised.”No…well…mostly parenting is wonderful,” I continued, “but sometimes I have to do things I don’t want to do. That can be hard. Why do you ask?””I just wondered,” he replied, sipping some water.One of his sisters offered, “Maybe he wonders if he’ll be up to the job someday.””Is that it?” I asked.He laughed. “Maybe. Yes.””You’ll be a great dad someday,” I assured him.”Thanks,” he grinned. “I hope so.”

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Notebook image by Ann Kroeker. Putt-Putt and bowling images by Sophie Marie. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: April 11, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

For months I’ve thought about getting a Kindle. At first, it seemed like a superfluous gadget, especially when I have more books in my house than I could read in a lifetime.But the technology intrigued. I was curious. Would it be a good fit for me?Then friends started to get them one way or another. Laura Boggess won one in a giveaway. My daughter requested a Kindle Touch for her birthday. Then Marcus Goodyear and Charity got a Kindle Fire, and by then I was teetering on the brink of asking one for my birthday. But I didn’t. And I got a pancake griddle instead.After that, I sort of forgot about the Kindle and made pancakes instead. Then I read the post this week from Jeff Goins about his new Kindle Touch. I don’t know why his post tapped me over the edge, but suddenly I realized I wanted to use a birthday gift card toward a Kindle Touch.So I rode my bike to Target and bought one. A Kindle Touch. Just like that.You know what?This gadget looks like it’ll be a lifelong learner’s lifeline. An autodidact’s dream date. A bookworm’s steady diet.I’d already been collecting free e-books and using a Kindle app on my phone, so I was able to begin reading several books I’d been storing for just such an occasion. I picked up where I left off reading Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? by Philip Yancey and launched Forgotten God: Reversing Our Tragic Neglect of the Holy Spirit by Francis Chan.Thank you to those who have purchased books through Amazon affiliate links (like the three above, including one for the Kindle Touch). I don’t make a bundle, but every once in a while Amazon sends a modest gift card I can apply toward a purchase.It’s enough to buy an e-book now and then.Little did you know…you feed me.

Learning

Today, following a detailed tutorial, I figured out how to put some new  social media “follow me” type icons in my sidebar (see vintage square images on right column for twitter, Facebook, Flickr, Google+ and LinkedIn). I grabbed those particular samples because the tutorial featured them. Now that they are live, I see they don’t really match the look of my site, but that’s okay. Now I know how to swap them out for others.Update at noon: I swapped out the vintage icons for some that seem cleaner and more compatible with my design theme. So happy.

Playing

As I mentioned on Monday, we’re spending Spring Break at home.That same day, I decided to try to recreate right here in our Northern state some of the Southern eats I enjoy when we road trip to Florida.Fried okra. Shrimp. Sweet tea. Cole slaw. Hush puppies.I found a bag of fried okra in the frozen food section of Wal-mart along with a box of coconut shrimp not unlike some I’ve had as an appetizer at Scampy’s in Panama City several years ago. I picked up some sweet tea from a fast food restaurant, since I can never seem to brew it right myself.Then I faced the challenge of hush puppies.No frozen hush puppies at Wal-mart.My husband phoned from Kroger. No frozen hush puppies there, either.”It’s because we’re Northerners!” I wailed.Then I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wouldn’t find frozen hush puppies at a Southern grocery store, either, because no self-respecting Southern cook would reheat prefab frozen hush puppies. No way. In the South, I’ll bet all hush puppies are always from scratch.But I’m not Southern. And I’ve never deep fried food in my life. I was counting on finding them frozen so I could stick everything in the oven and just minutes later be eating beach diner food for lunch. But the hush puppies. I had to have hush puppies.So I grabbed a bottle of Crisco oil and a bag of Martha White hush puppy mix and headed home.Because we’re in vacation mode, I had all the time in the world. I mixed up hush puppies according to package instructions and heated the oil. I dropped blobs of batter by the teaspoonful into the pot.It took a while, plunking them in, watching them sizzle, plucking them out, draining them. But I persisted.Finally.I know you’re relieved to know, I had fried okra and hush puppies for lunch.(Watch for photos on Friday.)

Writing

In addition to personal writing, I’ve got some side gigs going. We’ll see how they unfold.

Reacting

This has not been the most focused or contemplative Holy Week I’ve ever experienced. As you can see, I’m at risk of playing around with hush puppies more than pondering the Passion.Mark D. Roberts’ Daily Reflections have helped. And there are those faithfully journeying to the cross throughout Lent, like Diana and Milton, John and Kimberlee, and Megan. It is good to go together, to walk beside each other, making observations and telling stories, pointing the way, helping one another see from a slightly different angle the beauty that is found in the suffering that leads to the life that is ours.This week I’m trying to do more than fry up a batch of hush puppies. I am trying, in fact, to be hushed. Vacation week distracts, but so does everyday life. In the midst of it, I’m trying to listen, to learn, to be still.With whom are you traveling this Holy Week? In the comments, would you share links to fellow pilgrims?

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All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.Disclaimer: Some affiliate links included in this post.

The post Curiosity Journal: April 4, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I got some books from the library, mostly cookbooks and light reading because I’ve got no energy to slog through something profound. So far I’ve come across nothing worth reporting from the cookbooks.

Learning

Peel garlic in ten seconds or less. (Disclaimer: brief video demonstration does contain a minor crass word that in fact rhymes with crass.)http://vimeo.com/29605182

Playing

One afternoon while on a jog, I slowed to a walk. To think. To pray. Blue skies and shimmering afternoon sunlight invited reflection.At my feet, where grass meets asphalt: petals. Soft pink petals, fresh fallen, collected by the wind along the edge of the road.”Like a wedding,” I thought. “Flower petals for the bride’s shy steps toward her groom.”It was a forced image, though. The symbolism was obvious. I thought of the bridegroom, Jesus, and His bride, the church. It was all right there, easy pickin’s.Just then, a gust of wind nudged branches and a flurry of petals danced around me, swirling, fluttering, brushing against my forehead and cheeks. Just as I grinned at the timing, another breath-breeze lifted thousands of petals, raining like confetti, each small petal dancing to the ground, landing right at my feet as I walked toward home, scattered by an unseen flower girl shaking out baskets full of pink.As I was processing that burst of joy, yet another gust lifted up thousands more petals that drifted down, resting on my hair and kissing my bare arms, until so many surrounded me and lay on my path, I accepted the gift with laughter, embarrassed by the attention, thanking an attentive Savior who ensured that I was given a carpet of soft pink on barren asphalt, assuring me of His love.

Reacting

On Friday, our family saw a passion play put on by a local church. “Behold the Lamb” explained the thread of sacrifice throughout Scripture and led up to the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world. Through narration and music, the story unfolded. Jesus, played by a tall, white, brown-haired man, communicated with gestures and well-timed looks of compassion, anger, or suffering, depending on what the scene required.We sat in the very last row, taking it all in. For some scenes, characters would enter from the back of the auditorium and make use of the long aisle to head toward the stage. For the Good Friday scene, two Roman soldiers stood holding Jesus who was lashed to a beam of wood. They stayed in character while awaiting their cue: the Roman soldiers looked cold and fierce, ready to shove people out of the way. Jesus hung there, bare-chested, completely coated in streaks of red, a crown of thorns jammed against scraggly wet hair. He was waiting to be dragged the length of the auditorium, across the stage, and up stairs to a second level where they would hammer him onto the cross.Just before the music swelled to mark the long, humiliating journey to the cross, the man playing Jesus turned his head and looked down our row. In character, the man of sorrows locked eyes with one of my teen daughters. Just then, the soldiers yanked him along and we watched the suffering unfold.When the play was over, the pastor invited audience members to a reception down the hall. We could enjoy cookies and punch and interact with some of the characters. The kids wanted to go, so we headed down to meet and greet and eat. As we munched iced sugar cookies and sipped punch, my son recognized his AWANA leader dressed in first-century garb. He was in the choir. We met him and his family and thanked them for securing tickets for us.We watched as some of the children’s choir came out still in costume. We saw the man who played Peter and the boys who held live lambs throughout the performance. Finally, we decided we’d better head home. We worked our way through the crowd and just as we were about to leave the reception area, I saw the man who played Jesus. He was wearing his white “New Jerusalem” robe and a blue cloak that he used during the scenes when he was teaching.I had the passing thought that I might say something to him. Thank him. Tell him how moved I was by his portrayal. I thought I might mention how stirring it was when he brought the dead child back to life and when he rescued the woman caught in adultery. I thought I might thank him for hanging on the cross so long so that we could take in how terrible Jesus’ suffering must have been.But I couldn’t easily get to him, for he was surrounded by children.Children were rushing up to him, laughing and hugging him, and he bent over and nodded, answering their questions. He tousled a blond kid’s hair. He looked exhausted, but he grinned big and let them wrap their arms around him.My family was ahead of me. My husband was scanning the crowd, looking for me.I looked back at the Jesus, the children giddy with being right next to him.That’s how I wanted to remember the night.I turned to make eye contact with my husband. I waved. He spotted me, nodded and grinned, waiting for me as I moved through the crowd to my family.

Writing

Thank you for reading my words here. You are such faithful friends.

* * * * *

All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

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The post Curiosity Journal: March 28, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

Hey, I finished grading papers! Maybe soon I’ll read something written by a person over the age of 18?

Playing

Our weekend away with friends was so relaxing, so rejuvenating, so restful.They know how to create a sanctuary.

root beer

Learning

Life is better with abundant sunshine and temperatures in the 80s.Of course, I’m not really learning that. I’m simply experiencing it—joyfully embracing, even wallowing, in this unexpected explosion of warmth and light—confirming what I’ve always known to be true.

Reacting

I jogged the other day down a path shared by scooters and bikes. As I plodded along, I heard a man’s sharp voice behind me, “Snap your helmet on. NOW.” Then he roared even louder, “Do it! NOW!”Two boys about eight or nine years old maneuvered around me, the second boy fumbling to click his bike helmet strap with one hand while steering wobbly with the other. Next in line, the father. Wearing a baseball cap. Behind him, another boy, his helmet straps dangling.Stern and fierce, the dad looked back at the boy behind him, who quickly felt for both ends of his loose straps and scrambled to snap them together.The dad glared at him, grabbed his baseball cap by its bill and lifted it from his head to wipe his balding head; then he stuck it back on and wiggled it back into the comfort spot.I almost said something to the last boy as he passed me—something about adult bike helmets on sale at Dick’s—but I thought better of it and stayed quiet. I watched them cycle ahead of me, those four boys—two of them still fumbling with their helmet clips—and the dad in his bright yellow baseball cap. They biked single file, the dad still barking commands, his voice fading as they rode up the trail.I wondered how many years will pass before the boys leave their helmets in the garage, assuming they’ve outgrown them.

Writing

My work appears in Mother Letters. I’m honored to have taken part…and, wow, I’m in good company.

* * * * *

All images by Ann Kroeker, except for the one of Ann Kroeker, which was taken by her husband. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

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The post Curiosity Journal: March 21, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

Sitting around the house are stacks of books I want to read, but lately I’ve had to process a lot of student papers.

Playing

Today, God gave us another spectacular summer-in-springtime day to relish. I did two loads of laundry and hung them up to dry. As the wind lifted the sheets, they billowed and snapped and furled. I grabbed my camera, hoping to catch that mesmerizing motion and the light casting shadows on the fabric: back-lit tree branches…silhouettes against scrim.

Learning

That recent study about red meat? Makes me glad I’m moving toward a vegetarian diet.Eventually, I may go vegan.

Reacting

Throughout winter I pull the down-filled comforter to my chin and curl into a ball to stay warm at night. I slip on warm socks and layer my clothes to make it through the days, which are often gray and dreary from November or December through March, even into April. I slowly fade as the season progresses, struggling to drag myself outside. Slowly, as the calendar inches toward spring, I thaw. The days grow longer, occasional sun peeks through, and I can head out for a walk without first pulling on long underwear and piling on a parka.Then, yesterday afternoon, a surprise.The 70s.Temperatures in the 70s? That’s, well…summer!And it’s not even spring yet!Giddy and energized, we threw off the jeans and jackets we donned at 7:00 in the morning when we left the house and slipped into tank tops and shorts. The kids ran around the yard barefoot; I went jogging and came home sweaty.As I showered off, I realized I was smiling.Warmth + sunshine = bliss.That evening we ate on the screened-in porch. The chatter of birds tucking away for the evening prompted my son to shush us all.”Can we all just sit here and eat without talking for a moment,” he requested, “so we can just listen to the birds? They sound so relaxing and beautiful, I just want to enjoy it.”Most of us were too busy passing the potatoes and biscuits to stay quiet for long, but I heard him. I listened. I heard the chirps and churras, a swirl of sound overlapping and dancing in the air all around.We finished our meal and started to stack plates as the sunlight faded. The birds quieted, and temperatures cooled. I grabbed a sweater and came back out to linger just a few minutes, though, before heading inside.

Writing

Though I’m keeping a journal, I’ve mostly been in editorial mode lately.

* * * * *

Images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. You may “pin” in a way that links back to this post.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

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The post Curiosity Journal: March 14, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday (or thereabouts) I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

This isn’t a very interesting week for my Curiosity Journal. For starters, I didn’t get much read this week, though I’ve done some research for a client that has me browsing lots of articles online.

Playing

I bought a Groupon for half-price bread and pastries from a local bread store. Looking forward to a day I can head over there and make my selections.

Learning

My daughter is experimenting in the kitchen, learning to prepare recipes from the The Redwall Cookbook. I’m impressed with several of the dishes she’s tried, as they are all vegetarian and use wholesome, basic ingredients. We’ve enjoyed a vegetable soup, a cheesy potato side dish, a fruit-filled pastry, and shortbread.

Reacting

My son has wanted to buy a friend of his an obscure Nintendo 64 game. It’s hard to find, because the company no longer makes games to work in that system. He found several used on eBay, however, and begged me to help him bid within his budget.He gave me the links, but one was gone before I could log in. Tonight, one of the auctions was wrapping up at 9pm our time, so I sat at my computer, logged in, and invited him to stay up a little late and watch the countdown with me. I explained how to plug in a maximum amount and how someone could automatically outbid me or swoop in at the end with an unexpected submission.We typed in an amount and the minute we submitted it, the automated announcement popped up that we were outbid. We tweaked it a tiny bit higher, and it said that we were the highest bidder, but only barely. As the last minutes ticked down and then shifted to seconds, he remained calm. I managed his expectations, reminding him that we could continue to look if someone outbids us at the last minute. He he was doing remarkably well for a person who feels intensely every single event in his life.The clock ticked down to five, four, three, two, one.He got it!The game is his, to give to his friend. He danced down the hallway and ran to tell his papa. He hugged himself and spun around in circles. He told his sisters about it and considered how he would wrap it when it arrives. He said thank you to the Lord when he prayed before bed.I’ll bet he can hardly sleep tonight.

Writing

Proposals for a client kept me busy this week, as did some material I prepared for our homeschool co-op.

* * * * *

Note: Affiliate links included. Forni, P. M. The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. St. Martin’s Press: New York, 2011. Print.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

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The post Curiosity Journal: March 8, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

Still reading The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. It’s a short book. Seriously, it’s so short I should already be finished, but I only have time to nibble a few pages at a time. It’s okay to go slow, though, and ponder his ideas. That is, in fact, one of his points: take time to reflect.I was pleased to read at the end of Chapter 2 a few words about the benefits of writing about our lives:

By the way, science has determined beyond a doubt that writing about your life—present and past—can be good for both your body and your psyche. Among other things, it strengthens your immune system and reduces the damages of stress. (Forni 28)

I knew writing about life was good, but I didn’t know it strengthened the immune system. All the more reason to blog, right?In a section about multitasking, Forni refers to a woman named Linda Stone (whom he described as “a distinguished expert on the impact of the new technology on our daily lives”) and borrowed her phrase “continuous partial attention” to describe how many of us spend our days (32). It’s a wordy way of saying “inattentive,” but the phrase sticks with me, reminding me of the importance of devoting my full attention to people and tasks. I don’t want to give my family, friends, and work “continuous partial attention.” I want to be fully here.He does, thankfully, assure readers that a person’s power of attention can be strengthened with training and practice. Among other things, he advocates taking time to reflect and write down the activities of the day. Preserving them in this way honors each moment we’ve been given. Engage with life, Forni advises, so that it doesn’t slip away:

What remains of all our yesterdays if we spent them without attention and conviction? It is as though we never lived them…We did not value life enough to pay attention to it as it was happening…The more you value life, the more you engage with it. (37, 38)

Oh, let me cherish the moments.

Playing

I personally hate surprises, but I love surprising others who love to be surprised.See “Learning” (below) for details.

Learning

This weekend I arrived at a local elementary school to celebrate a friend’s 75th birthday. Her family concocted various excuses that led her to the school cafeteria where we were waiting, trying hard not to whisper too loud in the dim, echo-y space. As the school nurse, she has keys to the building and could let herself in. She walked down the hallway toward the room, and when she stepped through the doorway, someone flipped the light switch and we all shouted “Surprise!” and her face, oh, her face, her whole self, seemed overcome by a wave of love.One of the highlights of the afternoon was the open mic. Friends and family took turns at the mic telling stories, praising the birthday girl, rising up and calling her blessed. She has never been rich from the world’s perspective, and she’s never taken to a hobby, but “she collects people,” one of her daughters said.There we were: her collection, perched on metal folding chairs, sipping orange punch, eating slices of chocolate cake, delighting in her.Under the fluorescent lights of the elementary school cafeteria, I realized this is how I want to celebrate my own birthday in 30 years: Laughing with friends, telling stories, scanning the room and marveling at God’s treasures placed in my life for a year…or a lifetime…to love well.

Reacting

This morning my son and I started down the front hallway in opposite directions. As he turned sideways slightly to pass, I reached out to hug him. He turned to me and wrapped his long, thin arms around me: first one, then the other, then a squeeze, then a tighter squeeze. He leaned into me and I had to reach out and press my hand against the wall to keep from falling over. Finally, he pulled away first one arm, then the other. He looked up and smiled sweetly.”You know what?” he asked.”What?””I think God chose the perfect mom for me,” he said, eyes intent on mine.”Really?”He nodded.”How interesting,” I said, “because I think He chose the perfect son for me.”He stared at me, his chapped lips stretched taut across his face in a smile that wouldn’t stop. I held his loving gaze until he finally nodded slowly and skipped into the living room.

Writing

I’m enjoying my work editing the “I Do” series at The High Calling. Today’s post by Seth Haines—the final in the series—is a call to preserve the truth about our marriages.

* * * * *

Note: Affiliate links included.Works Cited: All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved. Forni, P. M. The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. St. Martin’s Press: New York, 2011. Print.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

Follow me on Twitter.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 29, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I read more of The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction, continuing to find lots of lines about slowing down.But it’s not only about making time to think. For example, I thought this portion was particularly applicable given my curiosity theme:

In this book on thinking, what I usually have in mind is critical thinking, the kind that is rational, informed, purposeful, and reflective, the kind that strives to remain bias-free and to arrive at logical conclusions. The critical thinker is an examiner of life, always alert, ready to pay attention, interested in everything, constantly asking, “Why?” and taking delight in the process of discovery. (Forni 7-8, emphasis mine)

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m interested in lots of things. I frequently ask “Why?” and take delight in the process of discovery. Several of my friends, however, are active doers who feel most satisfied having worked through a hefty to-do list. These doers are essential to keeping the world in motion. Their work is essential and valued, and I’m blessed that they support my intangible pursuits with love, humoring me and showing interest, even when I have accomplished little in a day outside of what transpired in my head and perhaps flowed through my fingers onto the page or screen.

Playing

I’m happy to inform you that I have a Words with Friends buddy. With practice, I’m playing a little smarter than I used to. And I’m learning obscure words. My favorite so far: “poods.”

Learning

This week, I’m beginning to read student research papers on the following topics:

• The Titanic (a focus on its rapid sinking)
• Alcatraz (focus is on The Great Escape)
• Sweat shops (focus on Bangladesh)
• PTSD (focus on PTSD developing in people directly affected by World Trade Center attacks)
• McDonald’s (how the company has had to adapt its American menu and restaurants to appeal to Indian culture)
• Concussions in football

I’m prepared to learn a lot.

Reacting

What about that Pinterest, eh? Just when I was getting in the swing of things, having a little fun pinning style, food and home ideas, I discover it’s at the center of copyright controversy.

Writing

I’m enjoying my work editing the “I Do” series at The High Calling. Today’s post by Ann Voskamp reflects on the doing of “I do.” She reminds us that daisies aren’t enough…and yet, the doing…those daily, thoughtful, sacrificial acts of love are essential to keeping love strong.

* * * * *

Credits: All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.Affiliate links included.Forni, P. M. The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. St. Martin’s Press: New York, 2011. Print.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

Follow me on Twitter.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 22, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I started a book called The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. Lots of lines about slowing down. It’s a secular book, but makes me very happy, seeing how much ties in with Not So Fast.

Aren’t a society’s competitiveness and its prospects for a better future rooted in more than sheer technology…When we’re all hyperconnected, will our families and communities be stronger? Will we build better organizations and lead more prosperous lives? Most important, can we accomplish any of these lofty goals if we continue devoting all our energy to eliminating the very thing we need most to achieve them in the first place–some space between tasks, respites, stopping places for the mind? (from pp. 1-2 of P.M. Forni’s The Thinking Life, quoting William Powers)

Now, I think technology can be a tool used for good and for offering respites (take, for example, Everyday Poems, delivering a poem a day into your inbox to read and reflect). But I agree that it can also be a distraction, and it requires tremendous self-control to maintain “some space between tasks” and “stopping places for the mind.”I appreciated the interaction overheard between Mr. Obama and David Cameron during Obama’s campaign, when he was caught on a boom mic saying to Cameron, “…the most important thing you need to do is to have big chunks of time during the day when all you’re doing is thinking” (Forni 2).  Forni reflects, “Letting oneself be swept along by the tidal wave of busyness was one of the worst things a president could do. ‘You start making mistakes, or you lose the big picture,’ Mr. Obama observed…Good thinking, however, doesn’t just happen; it is the result of a personal commitment” (Forni 3).

Playing

Yesterday morning, my husband went around waking up all the kids. He greeting our middle daughter, and she responded, “No, why would I do that?“He had said, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” but she thought he asked, “Have you been outside today?”I know it’s one of those “you had to be there” moments, but at 6:30 in the morning, the misunderstanding seemed hilarious. We kept laughing about it, and when she came down for breakfast, we all looked up and asked in unison if she had been outside.So now you know the inside joke that I’m sure will return year after year. We’ll be calling her the morning of February 14th when she’s in college just to ask if she’s been outside today.

Learning

Tuesday evening, our local news reported that the FDA released a report indicating the presence of lead in hundreds of lipsticks. Even though I use natural products like Burt’s Bees, I thought I’d scan the list anyway…after all, my daughters are starting to wear makeup.Scrolling through, I noted lots of familiar companies like Revlon, Maybelline, L’Oréal, M.A.C., Avon, and Cover Girl.Then…Burt’s Bees. My beloved Burt’s Bees lip shimmers that slide on so smoothly while providing a subtle hint of color are guilty. They made the list.Several colors showed up with varying degrees of lead content, and while the numbers are small, there is no known safe level of lead intake.Under a column labeled “Lead (Pb) (ppm),” I saw these Burt’s Bees lip shimmers: toffee (2.81), guava (2.24), raisin (0.43), Merlot (0.33), and champagne (0.76). They have lead in them. Lead that I smeared on my lips and likely ingested while eating oatmeal and sipping tea. Lead, in a brand that is positions itself as natural. Maybe they figure if it’s on the Periodic Table of Elements, it’s natural. Of course, so is uranium, but I don’t want to smear even a smidgen of that on my lips, thank you very much.This list also revealed parent companies. Guess who owns Burt’s Bees? Clorox.I don’t like getting snookered.Forget Burt’s Bees.I’ll just stir a little beet juice into some beeswax to make my own lip shimmer.

Reacting

Next to my mom’s laptop sits a framed photo of her parents. My grandma—old, but younger than I remember her—smiles sweetly at the camera; Grandpa leans toward his bride, head turned slightly toward the lens, a relaxed grin to match the twinkle in his eye. The portrait only shows their heads and shoulders, so I can’t be sure, but it looks like he’s slipped his right arm around her waist and reached to touch her hand with his left.Grandpa died before I had a chance to lock in solid memories of the two of them together, but my mom says he teased Grandma in a tone that was undeniably filled with affection. Years later, when I inherited Grandma’s engagement ring, I hoped some of that would rub off. I hoped I would always smile as sweetly as the first girl who wore it, cherished by my own husband, who lovingly leans toward me to slip one arm around my waist and touch my hand with the other.

Writing

I’m enjoying my work editing the “I Do” series at The High Calling. Today’s post by Emily Wierenga is hard, but beautiful. And almost 60 people participated in our Community Writing Project hosted by Jennifer Dukes Lee at Getting Down With Jesus. It was a privilege to work with Jennifer to select some to highlight for a post that will go live today at noon ET.

* * * * *

Credits: All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.Affiliate links included.Forni, P. M. The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction. St. Martin’s Press: New York, 2011. Print.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

Follow me on Twitter.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 15, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

As you may recall, last week I announced that I didn’t have time to read Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, so I returned my borrowed copy to the library.

On Sunday, the pastor announced that the missions team recommends that in preparation for our annual missions conference, which is focused on Europe, we read one specific book. One very thick book. One familiar book.

He held it up for all to see:

Bonhoeffer.

Playing

When I was a little girl, I pestered my big brother, four years older, nonstop as he was heading off doing stuff with his friends.

“Play a game with me, please? Please? Pretty please? Please play a game with me, just one game, just this once…”

From time to time I’d wear him down (or Mom would tire of hearing my pleas and order him to play a game just to shut me up). He’d relent and play a round of Hands Down or Operation with me. When we were older, the game might be Stratego or Scrabble. He beat me at everything, and still I’d come back for more.

The other day my teenage daughter asked if I wanted to play Words with Friends, which is basically Scrabble, on her phone.

She asked me to play a game with her! What joy to find a way to enter into my daughter’s world in which a private soundtrack pipes into her head through ever-present earbuds. Of course I said yes!

So she set it up to pass back and forth and we played a game. And then another. And another.

And then, after the third game, she got kind of bored, you know, playing word games with her mom.

Next thing you know, I started to pester her, “Play a game with me, please? Please? Pretty please?”

I downloaded the Words with Friends app and sent her my username. “Would you play Words with Friends?” I pleaded, playfully and childlike, to keep it light. “Just one game…please?”

She relented. We launched a game and played a couple of rounds, but then she had to take off for youth group. Next day was a school day, so homework kept her too busy to play games with Mom. She made a move, but let a day pass before making another.

I started a game against myself, and let me tell you, playing Words with Friends by yourself is pretty pathetic (though I do win every time).

I don’t mind too much, as I’m an introvert by nature, but I do kind of wish my daughter would make another move.

Learning

After working with my friend and The High Calling colleague Tina on an article called “The Grocery Drop,” I poked around on the NAMI link she provided, to learn about various disorders and diseases. It provides easy-to-understand explanations of different kinds of mental illness. I appreciate their dedication to “building better lives for the millions of Americans affected by mental illness” and “raising awareness and building a community of hope for all of those in need.”

I’m learning more in order to better understand—to better love—those who are struggling.

Reacting

I saw this and clicked “share” on Facebook, but added that writing is also a profession for introverts who are continually interrupted: “writing is a profession for those who are interrupted a lot…writers get a chance to finish their stories.”

If I may briefly elaborate…I can’t tell you how gratifying it feels, when writing anything from a blog post to an e-mail, to actually finish a thought. I can even build up to a punchline, knowing the reader is either with me or has clicked away (and I’ll never know).I suspect that people who experience a lifetime being interrupted learn to clam up and live in their own little world; talk really fast; or revert to the classic inverted pyramid journalism training when conveying information verbally so that the most important facts have a chance to be heard.

Or, they write.

Writing

Seems like I’ve been making a lot of lists lately. And recording more personal thoughts in less public venues.

* * * * *

Credits: All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.

• There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail
• Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.
• “Like” me on Facebook.
• Follow me on Twitter.

The post Curiosity Journal: February 8, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

I gave up on Bonhoeffer—Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, that is—and returned it to the library. Too thick for me to get through at the moment.

Playing

We had pizza with friends. That was fun.

Learning

One afternoon I was at Kroger with my youngest daughter. The two of us were browsing eye shadow, looking for a neutral color combination that I could try. I don’t wear much makeup, and she doesn’t wear any, so it was one of those blind leading the blind moments.I pulled out a little container that showed three colors together. “How can I know which color goes where?” I wondered aloud.My daughter shrugged. We moved down the line and found another pack that had instructions. On the back were diagrams of an eye that indicated where each color would be applied, one, two, three; base, lid, crease. On the colors themselves—on the actual makeup—the company had stamped the words “base,” “lid,” and “crease.””Look!” I exclaimed. My daughter raced over. “Look how simple they made it,” I continued, pointing to the diagrams and markings. “Step one, two, and three. It’s all labeled and everything.”She flipped it to the back and then to the front. Then she looked up with a huge grin and exclaimed, “Idiot-proof makeup!”I laughed out loud. “Perfect!”

Reacting

On Sunday, our pastor reminded us of the beautiful reality that Jesus made it possible for us to have His Father as our Father. Through Jesus, we’re adopted into the family of God and can be called children of God.We are precious, so precious. “See,” God says to His people, “I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”Seth Irby wrote a song that we sang that morning. Part of the chorus says:

You were not ashamed to call us Your brothersGiving us Your Father as our own.Your mercy is enough for us to sing Your praise,But You give so much more. You give so much more.

And from the bridge:

You did not leave us orphaned, Lord, cleansed of sin and nothing more.You called us “children of the King,” gave to us the family ring.And that same power that raised You up lives in us and fills us up,Teaching us to cry out “Abba Father!”

As the pastor spoke, I scribbled a quick drawing of a hand in my notebook—an open hand, palm up. On it, in very small print, I slowly wrote the three letters of my first name…a shy reminder of my Father’s love.

Writing

Hm…not much to report.

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Credits: All images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.

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The post Curiosity Journal: February 1, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’ve been recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the previous week using these tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

:::

Reading

A few articles, mostly about brain-sharpening:

• “A Sharper Mind, Middle Age and Beyond” from The New York Times
• “Buff Your Brain” from Newsweek (via The Daily Beast)
• Though I disagreed with a couple of the suggestions, I appreciated several ideas mentioned in “31 Ways to Get Smarter in 2012,” from Newsweek (via The Daily Beast)

Also, unrelated to the mind, I really enjoyed the article in The New York Times about Finders Key, the horse who starred in “Seabiscuit” and “War Horse.”

Playing

It’s been a big week for games. We’ve been playing Rummy and Bananagrams with my mom, who recently moved in with us, and one of my daughters has been challenging me to electronic Scrabble and Words with Friends.By the way, the first idea in that Newsweek article about getting smarter in 2012 recommends playing Words with Friends to help reduce risk of Alzheimer’s and dementia, so…what are we waiting for? Anyone up for a round?

Learning

See “Reading.”

Reacting

As I mentioned, my mom moved in with us recently. Because the kids call her Grandma, I will on my blog here, too.She and my son were playing rummy at the kitchen table the other day, candles left lit from mealtime still flickering. Sometimes Grandma would win, sometimes he would win. They’d laugh together, jokingly groaning if the other played a good hand.As I puttered around the kitchen cleaning up, my son looked up and asked me, “How long is Grandma going to stay with us?””As long as she needs to,” I answered.”You said it would be at least a week,” he said, “and tonight makes it exactly a week. And so I just wondered how much longer.””Well,” I said, “the doctor said she would need us to be nearby to check on her until she gets better, for at least a week. So she’s with us as long as she needs us, and she can stay as long as she likes.”He nodded and grinned. “I like that,” he said. “I like that a lot.”

Writing

No writing projects of consequence to note this week.

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Credits: Banana Splits/Bananagrams photo by Sophie Marie. All other images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.

There’s always more to come: subscribe to Ann Kroeker by e-mail

Want to slow down in our fast-paced world? Check out Not So Fast.

“Like” me on Facebook.

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The post Curiosity Journal: January 26, 2012 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.