In my last full blog, I explored whether I was an author or a writer.
The answer was yes.
Tonight, I ask myself –
Am I a sports car guy or a classic car guy?
First, you should know I am a car guy. From the Matchbox, Hot Wheels, and slot cars of my childhood to watching tons of You-Tube videos about cars nowadays, I’ve always been into cars.
My dad set the example. He did most of his own work on the old VW bus of my childhood. I helped, uh, watched. Then his midlife crisis hit in the form of a brand new 1975 Datsun 280Z. I loved that car. To my fledgling driving skills, it was like driving a rocket ship!
I’ve made it past midlife without a crisis car (unless I live to be more than 116!).
I have plans to get a project car when I retire, but what kind to get?
I go to car shows and feel that twinge of desire for much of what I see there. But I want a car I can drive whenever I want without worrying about it.
The ’65 VW bus of my childhood has gotten too expensive to drive without being nervous about scratching it. Most 280Zs have turned into a pile of rust. Same for the ’68 Plymouth wagon and ’73 Opel 1900 that were my first and second cars.
Somehow, I have gotten my eyes glued to a certain classic car model. It was popular enough for many preserved examples to be available. It’s unpopular enough for it not to be terribly expensive. Parts are readily available and it’s easy to work on.
And it has a role in the Wil Clarey series.
In the first rough draft of Wil Clarey: Impossible Summer, Wil encountered a Nash Metropolitan. I eventually decided (spoiler alert) that he would try to fix it up. Parts for the tiny British made American car are quite difficult to find and expensive. I had to find different car.
The car needed to be within Wil’s means to get on the road again. It had to be a hardtop that could survive a few years exposed to the elements. I also wanted it to be a little quirky and unique like Wil, (and me).
The car he found – the car I want to occupy some of my attention after retirement from my day job – is a VW Squareback. Look it up. It’s like a classic Beetle with a wagon body.
Photo credit – Hemings.com
So, if you ask me – sports car or classic car?
As the pile of Classic Car Magazines next to me testifies, I’ll take classic over sporty any day! Sure, I might squeeze a few more horsepower out of that air-cooled flat four, but it will be a practical classic car to match my classic but practical personality.
What about you? Classic or sports car? Or both? What’s your dream car?
My friend Clint at a Merchant’s of Venus themed party, 1992
I once mentioned here that I visited a friend in Bloomington, IL and that was the closest I have ever been to Normal (IL). That statement wasn’t fiction. And my friend Clint was far from normal. He was extraordinary.
We first met at the church that met on the Bible college campus that he attended. He was soft spoken with an infectious humor. He and his wife Vi would have us over for games and conversation. We became good friends with them and others in our little gaming group.
As Christmas approached and the Ziemers planned on visiting family for the holiday, they had no need for a Christmas tree. A huge piggy bank covered with Christmas lights took center stage and the “Oh Christmas Pig” carol was born from Clint’s imagination.
In the midst of the fun and friendship, Clint brought a quiet wisdom and encouragement that helped guide me along the right path. He helped steer me toward attending the same Bible college. As a pastor in Bloomington, IL, he even opened his pulpit for me to minister from as a student.
Over the years Clint has been a fine example of a godly father to Jonathan, husband to Vi, and Pastor to Cable Community Church.
This last Tuesday he made the journey to heaven where his quick smile and quiet humor will add to the eternal joy there.
I’ll be sure to play a round of Merchant of Venus in your honor, Clint. Thanks for brightening my life!
The yard has a long way to go but at least it’s not a jungle anymore. And the dogs have a new shelter in place of the trampoline I took down.
It’s been a good day. I got a lot accomplished. My yard looks far better than it did last week (a long ways to go though).
It felt good.
But something was missing.
It’s been missing a lot lately.
I’ve been so busy with other parts of life that I’ve spent too little time sitting at this little desk in the corner of my man cave.
There are two writing projects getting some attention lately.
The first draft of Wil Clarey: Mystery at the Mill is over half done! Wil, Gil, and Hannah are currently stuck on the farm with no power in the middle of an ice storm. Yes, I do think of my characters as living their story as it gets written. When I’m done with this blog, I will have to write a little more to help them thaw out.
Reymons is a much more ambitious project. As a YA fiction, it will be much longer and more complex. I am currently restructuring the first part of the story to add more character development.
My busy life and those two projects have left me ignoring this blog. There are so many things that I’d like to write about that I find myself in mental gridlock.
As I brainstormed in preparation for writing, the question popped in my head. “Am I a writer or an author.”
In typical rabbit trail fashion, I looked up the words.
A writer is someone who commits ideas to words.
An author is the originator of those ideas.
So, the answer is:
Yes!
If you only knew the garbled-up tangle of ideas floating around this brain. The more I put off writing, the more garbled it gets.
In other words – I can’t not write!
I’ll let you act as my therapist as I spill out some of the ideas aching to find their way into words.
Novel ideas keep flowing in and out of my brain including:
Daddy Mine – A historical middle grade fiction following a twelve-year-old orphan girl in the Mountains of 1890’s Colorado.
Countdown – A contemporary fiction in which a hacker and a pastor make an unlikely team to try to stop a cataclysmic terrorist attack.
Several other less developed novel ideas.
Blog ideas are floating around the ideas of social justice, cars, travel, politeness, the horror that is grammar, and corporate responsibility. Oh, and maybe one or two focusing on dad jokes!
Finally, I am looking to restructure my most consistent writing.
Last February I revealed here that I was writing a daily devotion based on the Life Journal reading plan on YouVersion. Even if no one else reads it (107 people subscribe to it), it has transformed my Bible study time. In less than two weeks I will have reached the six-month mark on that. Much to my surprise, I haven’t missed a day yet.
I want to improve that, so I am working on a custom reading plan with the hopes of having some season appropriate reading and facilitating multiple levels of daily reading.
More on that later. For now, if you’re interested in following it, you can search for North Metro Life Journal on Facebook.
Thanks for reading a little of this craziness I call writing. If you want to continue your role as my therapist (reader), please contact me. I am currently looking for middle grade (age 10-14) readers for feedback on Wil Clarey: The Impossible Summer, and writer critics for Wil Clarey: School of Hard Knocks. Just click contact in the menu.
Finally, for all my fellow authors, let the words flow.
If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself?
Would you give some sage advice?
Would you warn your younger self to steer clear of “that person”?
I’ve been going through a lot of old photos in preparation for my 40th High School reunion. I was the yearbook photographer. When the yearbook was done, I asked what they wanted to do with the negatives. They said whatever you want.
So, 40 years later, over a thousand photos are finally being scanned.
What do I see when I look at them?
In my friends and classmates, I see
a youthful vibrancy
serious study
playful disregard for responsibility
a desperate cry to be noticed
In myself I see
outward confidence
inner utter lack of self esteem
confusion over where my life was going
a tremendous amount of hope for the blank book that was my future life.
After thinking it over, I’ve decided what I would tell my 18-year-old self if I could go back 40 years.
It wouldn’t be to go to a different college or to stick closer to my studies, though I could have done better.
Nor would I give myself relationship advice, though I made plenty of mistakes there.
Maybe I would tell myself to hang on to that first car of mine. It’d be worth a ton now.
But, no, what I really want to tell my younger self is –
1968 Plymouth Satellite Wagon
NOTHING
Instead, I think it’s time to turn the tables on this little mental exercise.
You see, when I look in the eyes of that awkward dork of a high school senior, I see the lessons that he needs to teach me.
He’d teach me to look at life with curiosity and never stop learning.
He’d teach me that romance is worth the effort.
He’d teach me that fun is, well, fun.
He’d teach me that faith is worth exploring with an open, but faithful mind.
He’d teach me to not turn my back on adventure.
Most of all, he’d teach me that there is no such thing as too much hope! I need to remember that Lord willing, I have decades to go in this life and an eternity in the next.
Unlike that 18-year-old, I have far greater skills and knowledge to share and build upon. I have greater opportunities too. So do you!
Once I retire, I’ll have far more time as well.
So, listen to your 18-year-old self, or at least listen to that awkward skinny kid from California by way of the hills of southwest Virginia.
Let hope reign in your life!
And if you happen to see that olive green ’68 Plymouth wagon around, let me know.
I recently started writing down some of my Dadisms. You know, the words or phrases that the dad in me can’t help but say over and over. If that sounds strange, you need to know that
Normal is just a city in Illinois.
One of the kids will say something like, “Normal people don’t do stuff like you do.”
All I have to do is say, “Normal?”
As they roll their eyes, they’ll complete the phrase.
Dad win!
Those times when I am being extra cautious about something, I let them know that
A paranoid (pair o’ noid?) is better than one.
The other day (which I just found out means any day between my birth and yesterday) one of them asked what a noid is. I had to refer them to the old Domino’s commercials. They now agree with my saying.
Of course, they are amazed that I can remember back that far since I always tell them
The first three things to go are memory and I can’t remember the other two.
Of course, I’ve had older people tell me “You don’t want to remember the other two.”
As I get older, I am continually amazed at how quickly life goes by. To which I consistently proclaim
Fun times when you’re having flies
Which is a phrase that Kermit the frog wholeheartedly agrees with.
All these little quirks of my language are being passed on to my kids just like my dad left me with
You will eat it and you will enjoy it!
(Spoken in a strong German accent because he was, you know, Mexican).
It delights my heart when I hear one of my quirks repeated by my kids but
I’m not as think as you dumb I am.
What I really hope to pass on to them is in what I just read in my quiet time in the Bible this morning.
Three things will last forever – faith, hope, and love – and the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13 New Living Translation
I hope you enjoyed this little twisted linguistic exercise. More importantly, I hope to pass on to my kids, my students, and you, my readers the sense of joy, hope, and love there is in this walk of faith.
May you be blessed as you seek the words that shape your life!
At a men’s breakfast not long ago, we were asked two questions:
At the end of your life, what do you want people to say about you?
And
What are you doing now to make that happen?
Makes you think, huh?
I sat next to a teacher who wasn’t sure how to answer that second question. He was so wrapped up in the daily duties and pressures of teaching and raising a family that he hadn’t thought in those terms.
After his weak unsure answer, I had to speak.
“I never told Mr. Arnot of the impact he had on my life. Nor Mrs. Fender. Nor any of the other many teachers that profoundly influenced my life. You are making a difference just by being there and teaching faithfully.”
I didn’t get a college degree. I could have completed an education program but, after 3 years of college, I didn’t want to make the transfer and borrow yet more money to make it happen. Instead I took a career path in the technology field.
That hasn’t stopped me from teaching. I’ve trained new hires. I’ve instructed less experienced techs.
Over the years, I’ve also had the privilege of teaching in children’s church, Sunday school, and youth groups. While I was one of many voices that spoke into their lives, I’ve seen many of those kids grow up to be excellent men and women. I’d like to think I had a part in that.
All this is to say,
TEACH ON!
Those of you who are teachers by profession, realize that, even when it seems like your words are falling on deaf ears,
you are having a profound impact.
They may not admit it but students are learning from what you say and do and especially from how you say and do.
If you’ve never been a teacher, realize that you are one whether you like it or not.
You influence those around you by what you say and do and how you do it.
We are all teaching those around us.
What is it that you want to teach them?
What are you doing now to accomplish this?
Feel free to comment here or or my Facebook page how you have been influenced by others and how you would like to influence others.
Warm dog snuggled to my side; I gaze out on the snow melting on the deck.
Yup. It’s Winter.
I’m generally a happy kind of guy. But winter does a number on me.
Short days.
Achy joints.
And this week, sickness.
It’s just a cold (I tested negative for COVID twice), but it was enough to keep me from going to Winter Camp with my 6th grade students from church.
They’re good. Another youth leader stepped up and they have someone to lead them through the weekend.
And I’m here, nursing this crud.
What can I do?
When I first called in sick, I thought, “Great! I’ll have time to write.”
And I have written some. But, for the most part, I’ve been to cruddy feeling to engage my imagination.
Today, I feel like I’m in the middle of one of David’s Psalms where he starts out with “Woe is me” and ends up with “God is good and so is life.”
My cold symptoms are waning. I have a little more energy.
On top of that, the middle of winter was last Thursday! Spring is around the corner!
It’s weeks like this that I am reminded of my weak humanity. My human body has been weakened by a cold virus and taken my mental state with it.
I’ve given myself a break, literally. I worked from home Tuesday when symptoms started. Then I took Wednesday through Friday off work and stayed home from this weekend’s camp.
I won’t be foolish enough to overdo it today. I want to be well enough for church tomorrow. But I can channel my slowly returning energy into creative work, like this blog, and writing more on Wil Clarey Book 3 (Mystery at the Mill).
The bottom line to this ramble is:
cut yourself some slack.
If winter has you down, if sickness has been hitting you, or just the weight of life has been pushing your spirits down, it’s okay to take a break.
Regain your health. Rally your strength. Spring is coming with new life and new adventures!
If you’re stuck at the beginning of Psalm 73, keep reading, victory is on the way!
I know I haven’t posted much here lately. But I am still writing. Wil Clarey Book 3 is moving along at a slow but steady pace. But there’s another bit of writing that I’ve been consistent with this year.
For the past few years I have been posting a Bible reading schedule each day.
The schedule is not exclusive to me. I use the Life Journal reading plan from You Version. I just post it on Facebook to make it accessible to more people and to provide a forum to comment about the reading.
This year I challenged myself to write a commentary on each day’s reading. I have surprised myself by being consistent with that every day. (1 month so far)
Today’s commentary (actually tomorrow’s since I write them a day in advance) contains a little more passion than most. I decided that, even though I don’t want this blog to become preachy, this would be a good one to share.
Here’s the entry:
Reading for February 3, 2022
Exodus 35-36
Acts 10
“But the voice spoke again: “Do not call something unclean if God has made it clean.””
Acts of the Apostles 10:15 NLT
I admit, when I first saw this I thought, “See, vegans can’t use the Bible to back up their claims!”
That’s true. But this chapter goes way beyond food. In fact, the vision was intended for Peter to learn not to exclude people.
You might say, “But we don’t exclude people anymore.”
Really?
Okay, most people have suppressed the tendency toward racism, though it does still exist. But what about excluding people we see as failures.
It has gotten so bad that we now have a phrase for it. “Cancel Culture.”
Someone fails morally or ethically and we tend to think of them as no longer belonging to society. We stop buying their products, listening to their music, reading their books. You may even be tempted to think of them as less than human.
Let me declare right now that God loves each human being no matter what they have done. Their deeds may require they reap dire consequences, but God loves the death row inmate just as much as He loves me.
That’s a tough pill to swallow.
Are there people that you have thought of as not deserving God’s love? Do you think God loves each person enough to lay down His life for them? Can you make “cancel culture” a thing of the past?
If you are interested in following these Bible reading posts, search for the group “North Metro Life Journal” on Facebook.
One of the tools I often use when writing is the Character Interview. I pretend that I am sitting down with my character(s) and ask them questions that will help me determine how they will speak and react within the story line. I did that with Ashley and Carl from The Space Beyond. It was fun so I decided to share it with you.
Spoiler alert! The interview does contain spoilers so please click on Christmas Stories in the menu and read the story before you read this. It’s less than 5,000 words so it won’t take you long.
Also keep in mind that this interview is raw writing. Only the worst mistakes have been corrected.
One final thing before you read this and after you read the story:
In hind sight, I realize that I have painted foster parents in a rather poor light in the story. Please know that I hold foster parents in the highest regard. I have been one myself and I can tell you that it can be the toughest job in the world. The vast majority of foster parents pour their hearts and souls into the kids in their care. Carl’s point of view on his foster parents is rather negative. That is not my view on foster parents.
That’s out of the way so let me introduce you to Ashley Jones and Carl Mason…
Interview with Ashley Jones and Carl Mason.
Main Characters of “The Space Beyond – A Christmas Story”
Me – We’re on the front porch of the Jones family home in Pratt, Tennessee to talk with Ashley Jones and Carl Mason after their amazing adventure.
Hi Carl and Ashley. Glad you could join me. Can we start off with a little introduction? Just tell us a little bit about yourselves.
Carl – Hey, it’s great to be here. My name is Carl. Duh! I’m twelve and I live two houses down the road from Ashley. You can just see it over yonder, the white house with the red tin roof. I’ve known Ash since kindergarten. She’s like the sister I never had.
Ashley – You have two sisters!
Carl – They ain’t really my sisters, and they sure ain’t like you!
Ashley rolled her eyes.
Carl – Anyway, I was sayin’ before I was so rudely interrupted, We both go to Rolling Hills Middle School. It used to be Pratt Junior High. When they changed it to a middle school, everyone was joking about it being PMS so they changed the name to Rolling Hills.
Me (interrupting to stop this runaway train) – And what are you known for there?
Carl – Everything. I’m the fastest runner, the best pitcher, and the smartest thinker.
Ashley – Well, two out of three isn’t bad.
Carl – Whatcha sayin’ I aint good at? Oh yeah, I’m also the most modest!
Me – Okay, so you’re kinda the jock of RHMS?
Carl – Sure as shootin’! Oh, and I’m good at that too.
Me – At what?
Carl – Shootin’. Huntin’ too.
Ashley – He tends to overcompensate for his lack of self-confidence.
Carl – What you talking about!?
Ashley just stared at him.
Carl – Okay, I’m not really the best at most things, but I do have a good pitching arm.
Ashley – That much is true.
Me – What about you, Ashley?
Ashley – I’m Ashley Jones. I’ll be twelve next month. My parents are electrical engineers, or at least that’s what they told me before what happened last month. They moved here a few years before I was born. I’m their only child.
Me – What are you known for around here?
Ashley – I don’t know. Maybe for being different. I don’t get all gaga over boys and fashion and that stuff like some of the girls do.
Me – What kind of things do you like to do?
Carl – I forgot to say, Pa’s a foreman at the window factory. Ma stays at home ‘cause she takes care of us kids. I’m the oldest.
Ashley – Sorry, that’s the way he is. Always interrupting! Anyway, I love to read and hike and, when the wind allows, fly my kites. I can also whip his butt in most video games.
Carl – In your dreams.
Ashley – Trust me, you’re not in my dreams!
Ashley looked slightly to the side and blushed a little, clearly indicating her lie.
Me (speaking to Carl) – And I take it you like to play baseball?
Carl – And basketball and track and field. I’d like to play football, but coach says I’m too skinny.
Me – And you two are best friends?
Ashley and Carl replied at the same time.
Ashley – I tolerate him.
Doug – She tolerates me.
Me – you guys seem to have a connection. Is there anything romantic going on there?
Ashley – Heck no!
Carl – (Wrinkles his nose) With that? (Points at her).
Ashley – He’s not mature enough for anything romantic. And I have more refined taste.
Carl – I’ll have you know, half the girls in my class are pining for me.
Ashley – In your dreams!
Carl – I do have some amazing dreams.
Me – Okay, so nothing romantic, so why do you guys hang out so much together?
Carl – ‘Cause she has the better gaming console.
Ashley – And, despite his ignorance, Carl really is my best friend. I guess we’ve just known each other so long and being the only kid my age for two miles probably helped some too.
Carl – I reckon that’s true too.
Me – Do you guys like living in the country?
Ashley – Yeah! I love the peace and quiet and the sound of nature.
Carl – And the fields to practice my throwing and running.
Me – Okay, let’s move on to some hypotheticals. Let’s say you are attacked by some bad people – do you fight or run.
Carl – Fight, of course. Especially if I’m protecting someone (eyes shift to Ashley). I mean, you gotta do the right thing.
Ashley – Sometimes the right thing is to stop and evaluate the situation before jumping into an unwinnable fight (glances at Carl). But, that said, my mom taught me a lot of martial arts skills so nine times out of ten, I’m gonna fight.
Carl – She’s right about that, she’s bad ass! (Suddenly puts his hand over his mouth). Am I allowed to say that?
Me – It’s fine. You guys saw some pretty crazy things last month. Which of you is more likely to believe what doesn’t make sense?
Both – Me.
Ashley – My mom kinda prepared me with stories that I thought were from her imagination. Now I’m not so sure. Then again, Carl will believe anything so maybe he’s the more gullible.
Carl – Dang straight! That’s a good thing, right?
Me – Which of you is better at obeying your parents?
Carl – Me, you don’t cross Pa! Don’t get me wrong. He’s a good dad. But his word is law!
Ashley – My parents aren’t that strict but if they lay down the law, you know it’s for a good reason.
Me – Have your parents ever caught you in a lie?
Carl – One time, when I stole a candy bar from the Cracker Barrel. I tried to deny it but the chocolate on my shirt gave it away. I was only 7. Pa made me pay back four times what it cost.
Ashley – And gave you a whooping!
Carl – That’s a spanking. Folks around here still do that, you know. Still, you better not tell anyone. Might mess up their gig.
Me – What gig is that?
Carl – As foster parents. They need that money from the county. That’s Ma’s job.
Me – So I gather that you’re a foster child.
Carl – Me and my two sisters. Like I said, they ain’t my real sisters but they been with Ma and Pa since before I came. Little Joe is Ma and Pa’s child.
Me – What about you Ashley.
Ashley – I share everything with Mom. She’s cool. Dad can be a dork so I’m not so open with him. Still, the extent of my lying is saying I’m okay when I’m not.
Me – How well do you deal with pain?
Ashley – Physical or emotional?
Me – both.
Ashley – I can usually deal with physical pain. Mom gave me techniques to ease the suffering when I get hurt. For emotional pain – I think I’m better than average but it’s a lot tougher than physical pain.
Carl – I think I’m the opposite. It doesn’t bother me when people try to mess with my head, and I can deal with physical pain to a point and then it kinda stops me in my tracks.
Me – Do you cry easily?
Both – No.
Me – Do you have any scars from last month?
Carl – (Pulls up sleeve) You should see…
Ashley – (Stops Carl) Time will tell.
Me – What can you tell me about your adventures last month?
Ashley – Nothing, we’re sworn to secrecy until it’s published.
Carl – What she said – other than it was epic!
Me – Okay, can’t wait to read it on Christmas Eve!
I didn’t want to be there. Yes, I loved my mom but my step father….
It was my junior year in college. I had spent the last two Thanksgivings at my dad’s in Fresno. Now Dad had moved to Southern California and Mom had moved back from Virginia to San Bruno, just an hour north of me.
I had to go.
To be honest, I remember almost nothing of that holiday. I don’t even remember if any of my siblings made it there.
The food was good. The conversation polite if strained. I declined the invitation to spend the night. My little quiet room in Mount Hermon was far more appealing.
Life almost 40 years later is different. I cherish the time with family. I may not see eye to eye with them on everything, but our love for each other far outweighs any differences in opinion. I want to be with them as much as I can.
Did I handle that Thanksgiving of 1984 correctly? I don’t know. I know the fact that I spent so little time there hurt my mom, but she knew that she wasn’t the reason I kept the visit brief.
I did manage to avoid arguing with my stepdad. But that was more because I knew I couldn’t win any arguments with him. That man was more stubborn than, well, than even me. And that’s saying something.
So why would I share this story of my dysfunctional family Thanksgiving? There’s a couple of reasons.
First, if your family is full of love, peace, and forgiveness, be sure to give an extra round of thanks to God and to your family. (Thanks Fam!)
Second, if your family is dysfunctional, you’re not alone! I would urge you to come to your family get-togethers with as much love and patience and forgiveness as you can muster with God’s help. Love heals, though it may take time.
If your family is at a point where getting together is not an option, I urge you to get together with someone. I heard earlier this week of a couple that just moved to a neighborhood from another country. They posted on Next Door that they would like to share Thanksgiving with a local family if anyone would open their home to them. They got over 200 invitations!
So, if you are alone this Thanksgiving, reach out to those around you. If you make the effort, you may just find the true meaning of family love.
Feel free to share in the comments on the social media posts for this blog if you need a place to celebrate Thanksgiving or if you are willing to open your home to those in need this Thanksgiving.
I confess I feel a little like a hypocrite writing this because, with an at-risk daughter visiting us that day, I cannot have people outside the family over on Thanksgiving. But if your situation allows you to share, you may be amazed at the blessings sharing will bring!
Solano Writing 