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Women of the Book Of Mormon Review

Okay, take a moment to ooh and aah over the cover, then get back to me and my review. Don’t worry, I’ll wait. I’m just generous like that.

In Heather Moore’s book, Women of the Book of Mormon, we are allowed glimpses into the lives of all the women who were mentioned throughout the entire Book of Mormon.  We learn about the twenty-four Lamanite women who were taken captive by Amulon and his band when they were found dancing by the river. We learn of Abish, King Lamoni’s wife, and of our first mother, Eve. Much of what is written in this book is background on the lives of the women from that time period. We learn about the daily work they had to do, the value they had in society, and the importance of the faith they taught to their children.

Heather’s previous books show the possible trials and faith of the women of the scriptures, which has been one of the many reasons I have found myself drawn to her writings. What was fun with this book going over the intimate implications of these women was the comfort women gain from other women. In a very real way, we need each other. We need those examples of faith to carry us through times that are too difficult for us to handle alone.

I found it interesting how Sariah gained comfort going through her trials by leaning on the faith of other women mentioned in the scriptures. I especially liked the reference to that mother we all share, Eve. It never occurred to me to think of the pain she had as mother raising Cain and then losing him to the jealousy and hatred he had for his brother. Heather points out that not all of us grow up with a mother who teaches the belief in Christ, but that we all share our first mother who stands as a supreme example to all of us.

There is an astounding amount of research put into this book and it’s obvious Heather as meticulous at crafting each segment.

A quote from the back cover:

Explore the lives, circumstances, and choices of women in the Book of Mormon in this uplifting and inspiring volume that illustrates the parallel between the lives of the women of the Book of Mormon and LDS women today. With new insights on practically every page, author Heather B. Moore explores the written and unwritten stories of the prominent women in the Book of Mormon—taking familiar material and providing vivid details about family dynamics, domestic practices, and other aspects of daily life. By applying historical and cultural contexts to the situations of women like Sariah, Abish, Eve, Mary and the faithful mothers of the stripling warriors, you will peek beneath the surface of the scriptural accounts to better understand both the righteous women of the Book of Mormon—and the women who didn’t use their agency wisely.

I recommend this book to any who desire a better understanding of what it might have been like to have been a woman throughout the ages of scriptural history. I walked away from reading this book edified and expanded in my knowledge, and appreciate the opportunity to have read it.

Scary Stories

Why is it that whenever I read a book written by one of my friends that is classified as frightening (the book, not the friend), does my power always go off, leaving me in total blackness and terror? Seriously, I am determined to hate both Jeffrey Savage with his Dark Memories, and now Dan Wells with his I am Not a Serial Killer, for providing me with moments of total and complete, mind numbing, scream-your-throat-to-raw-hamburger terror.

I hate being afraid. Seriously. Hate. It.  I don’t watch scary movies. I don’t read scary books. And I determined a long time ago that I would never WRITE anything scary.

Which is why yesterday is so baffling to me.

My brother called me with an idea for a book, one that I’d already considered and cast away because it wandered into the realm of scary, and I don’t write scary. I told him I don’t write scary and confirmed it with him several times throughout our conversation because I wanted to make sure he understood I meant it. Then we hung up.

And the idea banged around in my grey matter while I did dishes, while I vacuumed, while I got dressed, and while I sorted laundry. You see I told him that IF I were to write the story, it would have to be different from all the things that have been done before. It would have to be a YA book because I just don’t understand adults, and it would have to start out well enough to snatch the reader immediately. I gave him a long list of rules for such a book and all the things that would have to go into it.

And my mind couldn’t let go of how I could write the story and make it fit into all those rules. I called my brother back an hour later and gave him a brief synopsis of a storyline that would work.

He laughed that it only took me an hour to hammer out the storyline.

I hung up.

And wrote the first chapter.

It’s a great first chapter. It’s a great story.

Curses. I guess I do write scary stories after all.

The bad thing? The REALLY bad thing? Mr. Wright was out of town last night. I put the Wright brothers to bed and reached my hand out to turn out my bedroom light. My hand froze over the switch, hovering and shaking as though I were battling some unseen force (this force I like to call my personal irrational fear).

The personal irrational fear won over common sense. I slept with my stupid light on. I guess I write scary stories pretty well, because my first chapter scared the snot out of me.

Oh for the love of . . .

. . . my kids.

Mr. Wright is out of town tonight, so it’s just the Wright brothers and me.  Already we’ve argued about what will be on the television while I make dinner. The argument was over whether we’d watch the Disney Channel or Unwrapped on the food channel. I lost.

So guess what we’re watching . . .

Yep. Unwrapped on the food channel. I swear these children are not mine. Why would they want to learn something on TV when they can have mindless entertainment? So, instead of a silly but fun show about teenage wizards, we’re learning about how the PEZ dispenser came into being and about some odd new pancake product called Batter Blaster.

The elder Wright Brother wants Batter Blaster bad. He is our family pancake maker and the Batter Blaster apparently is the newest rage in pancake making. I hadn’t made my first pancake until I was in college, and here is my ten year old, scoping out new ways to fine tune his breakfast making experiences.

The younger Wright brother has determined he wants an edible bouquet instead of cake for his birthday because it’s healthier (fruit instead of pastries), and he no longer drinks soda pop because he thinks soda pop is bad for you. Honestly! I did not teach them any of this. They are totally on their own when it comes to this total weirdness. I now get lectures about my Dr. Pepper habits.

The kids teach me a lot as we move through our time together, but I’ve taught them some pretty valuable things too, such as:

  • How to cuss in traffic
  • How to brush teeth
  • How to critique the dialogue in movies out loud in the theater
  • How to throw tantrums
  • How to read
  • How to irritate people with semantics
  • How to pick up litter
  • How to be a sore loser at Monopoly (which I refuse to play with them anymore because they gang up on me)

As you can see from the list, some of the stuff they learned from me is actually useful. I miss the daughter a lot and, in spite of teaching mostly less than useful life skills, still wish she was around for me to teach. She’ll be home for the summer in just two and a half months. Yay! This whole child rearing business is one well worth taking on.

Oh and I finished writing the manuscript, Spell Check, last month and have already started my new WIP tentatively called Dream Writers. I’m into it nearly fifty pages and so far loving the manuscript.

Whitney Awards!!!

Oh wow . . . my book Eyes Like Mine is actually a finalist for the Whitney Award!!!! I had so completely prepared myself for disappointment and overeating while watching movies with no value to them today. I am in absolute shock. I think I’ll snap out of it soon and be bouncing off the walls, but for now–just . . . wow!

And I’m trying really hard not to think of how pretty that glass book with my name on it would look sitting on my desk . . .

But at least go look and see how pretty my book looks sitting in the row of finalists in the general fiction category:

http://www.whitneyawards.com/2009finalists.html

YAY!

My Fair Godmother–Review

You read that right; Chrissy, the godmother, didn’t pay much attention to studies at school which is why she graduated as  just a fair, rather than a fairy godmother. Janette Rallison has written one of the best turn-a-fairy-tale-on-its-head books ever.

Writing humor is truly hard to do. Janette is a flawless comedian while weaving a story about characters you love, root for, and feel panicked for when their situations of facing down a cyclops, dragon, and evil stepmothers who wander around at bals with poisoned apples. And in the background, so unobtrusive you would likely not notice unless your me who is always looking for the deeper meaning, you find a story about the bond of sisterhood and the pitfalls of wanting to get back at someone for hurting you.

I loved this book! I envy Janette’s ability to tell a tale, besides the fact that I envy her her goodness of heart, and amazing personality. I heartily recommend this book to anyone and everyone!

 Finding your one true love can be a Grimm experience!

 

After her boyfriend dumps her for her older sister, sophomore Savannah Delano wishes she could find a true prince to take her to the prom. Enter Chrissy (Chrysanthemum) Everstar: Savannah’s gum-chewing, cell phone–carrying, high heel-wearing Fair Godmother. Showing why she’s only Fair—because she’s not a very good fairy student—Chrissy mistakenly sends Savannah back in time to the Middle Ages, first as Cinderella, then as Snow White. Finally she sends Tristan, a boy in Savannah’s class, back instead to turn him into her prom-worthy prince. When Savannah returns to the Middle Ages to save Tristan, they must team up to defeat a troll, a dragon, and the mysterious and undeniably sexy Black Knight. Laughs abound in this clever fairy tale twist from a master of romantic comedy.

Honeslty people, you need to read this. You will never be sorry you did, but I pity those of you who don’t.

http://www.amazon.com/My-Fair-Godmother-Janette-Rallison/dp/0802797806

Merry Christmas and Publishing Industry Information

Because it’s Christmas, and I am working to finish a book, reading a ton of books for the Whitney Awards since I am one of the judges, and dealing with the holiday and children and snow, I am becoming quite the lazy blogger. Sorry.

I am happy to report that I am ready for Christmas. The presents are under the tree torturing my little people. We are still arguing the menu for our special family Christmas Eve dinner. Rae wants chinese chicken salad. Bing wants mac and cheese (which is soooo not going to happen), and I want bacon wrapped pork. I will win, because I’m the mom! (GO MOM POWER) Rae still thinks she has a fighting chance though. Christmas eve is traditionally candlight and the china, along with sparkling cider in crystal goblets and a small gift to be opened set out next to each plate. Because we live so far from our family, it’s just the five of us and I’ve come to appreciate the joy our little dinner gives me. Christmas day, we’ll drive up and join the extended family and get loud, eat too much and play video games until our eyes roll into the backs of our heads (well . . . everyone else will play games; I will be either reading or writing), but Christmas eve is reserved for just us. I can’t wait! We’re also planning on going to see the bedtime stories movie over the Christmas Break. It looks awesome!

Some interesting things are going on in the publishing world right now. One is the little bit of criticism the Newbery awards are getting this year (note: I am not the one being critical, merely reporting on the critiques of others) You can read that news flash here:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/12/15/AR2008121503293.html?sub=AR

The summary of this article is that the Newbery winners might be too big a stretch for young minds and that the award is going to books catering to adults who like children’s books rather than to books catering to children. It goes on to say that perhaps the books are even turning children off to reading. Whether or not it is true, I can’t say, but I thought it was a good reminder for us authors to remember who our real audience is and to do what we can to write our best for that audience.

Another interesting aside is that Harperstudio and Borders have reached an agreement on the end of returns. For those of you who don’t know, the publishing industry has a bit of a quandary when it comes to ordering books and returning books. Publishing companies allow bookstores to order in as many books as they’d like and if those books don’t sell, those bookstores can return the books to the publisher. This model of business is rare, but allows bookstores to take chances on new product, new authors, new ideas.

Because of the returns policy, publishers are continually backed into a corner of economic and environmental strife. But because of the policy, many new authors who might get passed over, are given chances to sit on store shelves. You can read about the deal Borders made with Harperstudio here:

http://nathanbransford.blogspot.com/2008/12/harperstudio-and-borders-no-returns.html

Remember the Whitney awards nominations are only available to the end of the year. If you read a book that simply rocked your world, give that book a shout out with a nomination. You can nominate here:

http://www.whitneyawards.com/

And last but not least, if you’re an author and still hinting at things people might get you for Christmas, remember to mention the Storymaker writer’s conference. It’s the perfect last minute gift since it can all be done online. It is one of the best writer’s conferences I have ever attended, which is saying something since I’ve been to a lot. If you are looking to hone your skills, meet agents and editors, enter the first chapters contest, or make connections in the literary world, there is no place better than the here:

http://www.ldstorymakers.com/conference.html

Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you stay safe for the season, and that you feel nothing but love from those around you.

Random Writer stuff

First off: the farworld contest . . . . and the winner is: *all* of you who left a comment (now all those who didn’t leave a comment are crying in their Dr Pepper right now because they aren’t getting a book–and yes, I do know who commented before I posted this blog entry, so don’t go thinking you can slide in under my radar).

Jeff Savage has been an incredible friend to me over the years. He’s commisserated when commisserating was needed, kicked my backside when that was needed (though I hate it when he does that), and rejoices with me when I find success. He personally hand delivered my manuscript to his editor and has gone to bat for me more times than I can count.  I pretty much owe him any royalties I might gain from my upcoming release Eyes Like Mine  for all he’s done for me. It is for this reason I am buying all my commenters his book.

I bought a new TV (purchased on eBay for a screamin’ deal) so I can watch Heroes with better quality. With the new TV came an entertainment center (also bought on ebay, the deals keep screamin’) and with these new indulgences came the need to rearrange my living room. Now, anyone who has been in my house, knows that books are stuffed in every available spot (anyone who has been in my bedroom knows Darth Vader is stuffed in every available spot– a measure of my love for Mr Wright.)

The domino effect came into play here as I went from one bookshelf to another, rearranging in an order that makes sense only to me. The entire process took me a couple of days to complete. And I had an amazing epiphany. I own an entire bookcase of signed books by authors whom I not only admire, but count as my dearest friends. The process took a long time because I went through my books and read the messages left there especially for me from people I love.

Inside the jackets of these books were words of encouragement, gratitude, love, and admiration. There were private jokes and things that you had to be there for to think they were funny. I walked away from the experience humbled to know that not only do I call these people my friends, but they call me theirs.

These are the people I call when I get trapped on a bus for three hours with a bunch of eighth graders. These are the people who know me well enough to dub the writer’s insecurity disease Julie Wrightus. These people are among the first to find out when I get rejected, when I get accepted, when I finish a new novel, when my kids lose their teeth.

There are days when I am genuinely sorry I dared to step up and be a writer. There are days when I wonder what it would be like to go back, forget it all, and learn how to cook like normal moms do. But then I shudder. What fool would want to go back and lose so many friends? My kids are okay with days where dad is busy and mom has to cook. But I wouldn’t be okay without those people whose names sit on my bookshelf.  I wouldn’t be okay without the friends I’ve made through conferences and the internet as a direct result of my decision to write.

Thanks guys. All of you!

The Butcher

So my author friends struck up a conversation on the woes of abridged audio books.  I’ve heard them whine whine whine about this before, but never paid attention. After all . . . I’ve never had an audio book, and I feel they should be grateful to have something so cool.

Except now things are a little different. I am slated for an audio book for the novel, Eyes Like Mine, coming out in February. I am so wicked thrilled to have an audio book. I grin stupidly every time I think about it.

The thing is . . . it’s abridged.  The book is just over 90,000 words. The abridged version–45,000 words.

Yeah. My math isn’t so hot, but even *I* know that means HALF. Yes, gentle readers, half is a lot of words. And then once I cut all those words out, I have to try to piece it back together in some way that makes sense, with a logical flow of plot development and proper character depth and motivation. I owe all my friends chocolate and apologies. How do you cut a book in half and expect it to be the same?

It’s like the baby brought before King Solomon.  No good mother wants to see her child chopped in half. No good author wants to see their book butchered, and worse–have to be the one doing the butchering.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m still excited about the audio book. It’s the pain I’m afraid of. I determined I’d better get started soon because I have the sneaking feeling this is going to take some serious time.

But I can’t start this week . . .  or next. Tomorrow, I am speaking at a youth conference and really should be working on my presentation so I don’t bore several hundred teenagers to sleep. And for the rest of this month I have to finish my work in progress just so I can say I did.  It may not be a good draft, but it’ll be a done draft. Good can always come later, right?

And the answer is . . .

I know the committee meets in the morning or early afternoon based on the times Kirk (my editor) calls me to give me news. So at 3:30 I realized it has to be a “no” and Kirk doesn’t know how to break the news to me.

Then an email popped up in my box.

It was from Kirk.

My hands got all sweaty and my arms went numb as I clicked the email open.

And the answer is . . .

I still don’t know.

How do you like that? Kirk said the committee was going slow and he’d likely have an answer for me tomorrow. Is the suspense killing you guys as much as it’s killing me? 

Yeah . . . I didn’t think so.

Regardless of the answer, it’ll be a relief to put me out of my misery.

In the mean time, I need a new laptop. Anyone have suggestions or cautions on laptops they just love and can’t live without, or ones they hate and would never deign to touch again? I need an *inexpensive* laptop, so don’t go telling me about the latest cool costs-me-one-of-my-kids laptops. I would prefer one that docks or at least lets me hook up a full size keyboard and monitor to. The bane of writers everyone has finally found me–carpal tunnel.

Light! I can’t believe I still don’t know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Name in Lights

I was tagged for a meme by my dear friend Karen Hoover and I swear I will do the tag on my next post, but it’s late and I have a hard time being clever when I feel wiped out.

I just got back from speaking at a writer’s group in Ephraim. Talk about rolling out the red carpet! They had my name advertised on the town marquee, they fed me a fabulous dinner, they provided me with excellent conversation, they gave me a wicked cool gift basket and laughed at my jokes. What a great crowd. I had a blast.  Shirley Bahlmann had invited me to come speak to their group and am I ever glad I did! I’m tempted to move just so I could have a cool writer’s group like Shirley’s.

What was really awesome? I signed a lot of books, not the brand-new, never-been-read kind . . . but the worn, ragged-edged, crinkly-paper-from-being-around-a-bathtub kind.

There is a truly awe inspiring feeling that overcomes an author (well . . . this author anyway) to hold a worn out and much used book in your hands with a smiling fan standing in front of you asking you to sign it. The book is loved.  Every scuff and bent page is significant. The book is proof that somewhere along the way, this reader and this author had a communication open between them. Even though the author wrote those words months and sometimes years previously, and the reader read them months and sometimes years previously, and even though the author and reader had never met before this one moment, they understand something about one another.

When I sign the new books, it’s different. The reader hasn’t read the book yet. They don’t know if they like it or not yet. I don’t know if they’ll ever crack the spine (that sounds gruesome, doesn’t it . . . crack the spine?).

But a book that has been read and reread, I know that the reader has pieces of me fused into their hearts. I know that they like things similar to what I like. And when they ask me to sign a book that they obviously loved, they are saying that they feel I did my job well. It’s the best kind of pat on the back.

Yep . . . I love what I do. Thank you Ephraim!

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