PUBLISHED FREELANCE AUTHOR

In 1999 my computer sat in a tiny office in the upstairs alcove. By 2002 I felt like a seasoned writer and attended the Oregon Christian Writers Conference (OCWC). I paid Cec Murphey, a man who calls himself an “Old Curmudgeon,” to critique my work. He said, “Set your novel aside. If you finish it in the future, fine. For now concentrate on your real life stories.” I came home to build myself a great reputation as a published freelance author.

Five monhs later, my husband was diagnosed with a rare cancer. No longer could I sit at a keyboard upstairs. With help, I moved my office to the laundry room where I could listen to the needs of the patient, and work towards publication.

Five years after diagnosis, Gary helped me move my office upstairs once more. The move forced me to reorganize. In switching files from one drawer to another, I stumbled into those critique pages from Cec in 2002. Wow.

At first I felt embarrassed at my quality of writing, and then amazed. Cec slashed through several items, corrected my poor grammar, and then said, “Flesh out your characters. They need a sense of ....”

You get the idea. I might have quit if I’d received only the written critique, but the good news is, he may call himself the Curmudgeon, in reality he’s a great encourager and teacher. My checks these last few years are proof, that with hard work freelance authors can succeed.

Green Light Red Light by Hebbert

From the first page of "Green Light Red Light" the reader is invited to see the unanswered questions in the life of sixteen-year-old Erika Slade. Why did her mother kick her out? Why does she feel so connected with Monica Moore, a ESL teacher in China? Why did she agree to a trip to China? Why is she stuck with a snoring seatmate?

The answers to these questions and many more are found in the pages of Audrey Hebbert’s first YA novel, Green Light Red Light. The book is filled with conversion stories, humorous incidents and you experience the lives of the Chinese in their historical setting.

Although this is creative fiction, the book is based on the real life experiences of a Nebraska woman dedicated to sharing the gospel anyway she can. Hebbert changed the missionaries name to Monica Moore to protect her while she continues her travels. Although Erika is not real, her story can be found in young people all around us. The reader isn’t cheated by the events, they are real, from the food, the hair cut and the conversions.


In Green Light Red Light Erica Slade learns about forgiveness. She faces many precarious weather predicaments and bed issues—she sleeps on a bamboo mattress and uses a pillow stuffed with corn kernels. She also experiences strange foods like snake brains.

Erika learned you can withstand many discomforts when you adjust your attitude and look to the needs of others. This isn’t a sweet-fairy tale all wrapped up in ribbons, however, the gospel is clearly shared and forgiveness is a major theme. Although written for young adults with a sixteen-year-old as the main character, the book is a good read, no matter what your age.

My grandmother gave me the gift of daily prayer. Her gift didn’t come all wrapped up in ribbons— it came in visible hands folded in prayer before me. It didn’t matter who visited Grandma—friends, neighbors, children or grandchildren— she prayed at every meal and we all knew she prayed for us.

Grandma wrote prayer requests in an inexpensive spiral bound notebooks. About the year I turned ten she let me see my name written in her book. When I turned thirteen, Grandma told me she had my husband in her prayer journal, too. I giggled a lot, but I liked the idea of knowing Grandma prayed about every detail of my life.

This year I wanted to give you a visual reminder of how to pray. What better way than a pair of gloves?

The thumb is closest to you:
Pray for those closest to you, family, neighbors, and co-workers. .
The Pointer finger reminds us to pray for those in authority:
Parents, pastors, employers, and government officials.
Middle finger—the tallest finger is our “Praise” finger:
Take time to thank the Lord continually.
Fourth finger—the weakest of them all:
Pray for the sick, the chronically ill, the disabled, and those society considers weak.
Little finger—the smallest, the least important:
The little pinky is a great reminder of your needs—pray for self.

Grandma died many years ago, yet even today her legacy—the gift of daily prayer—lives on. She taught me to pray for others. I hope you have a blessed Christmas season.

Feeling Thankful, Kat

Green Light Red Light and Forgiveness

Last year I wrote a devotional, it hasn’t sold yet, but when I started re-writing my review for "Green Light Red Light" by Audrey Hebbert, I ran into unpublished piece once more.

When I read it, I thought, "Wow, better search for more unpublished pieces and market them this next year." In the meantime, I'll share, “The Meaning of True Forgiveness.”

Read Psalm 55:12-14

“I hate you.” I heard my adult daughter’s voice over the telephone. She sobbed. Where did her anger stem from? I prided myself in being a good mom.

At a loss for words, I asked, “Can you tell me where those feelings and all that emotions comes from?”

My daughter poured out her pent up feelings, I realized she’d stuffed a lot of junk. We talked for hours. The next day we talked again and the next.

Finally, we understood each other and true, Godly forgiveness happened.

In Green Light Red Light, Erica Slade also learns lessons of forgiveness. Her mother kicked her and her brother out and they ended up at the Hope Shelter, where volunteer Monica Moore becomes their friend.

God is the greatest recycler of pain. He turns bad things into good.

Our daughter and I are much closer after we discovered the root of the problem. Because of her mother, Erica met Monica and learned about true forgiveness. Although there are no concrete fairly tale endings to Red Light Green Light, we know that young Erica’s heart is right with the Lord and she desires to forgive her mother.

Did you experience forgiveness this past year? Do you need to forgive? A YA novel and my daughter taught me that with God, forgiveness can happen.

CREATIVE CALISTHENICS by Main

If you are looking for a book to improve your writing fitness in 2009, check out Creative Calisthenics by Terri L. Main. Each page is a tool to fine tune your writing skill level.

Several years ago the author, not a huge physical fitness guru, participated in a marathon to help raise money for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. She learned right away, you don’t just say, “I’m a runner,” and then complete the 26.2 marathon. She spent months training. It’s the same way for writers. Main says Creative Calisthenics is a compilation from her thirty years of experience.

The Table of Contents, the titles to Main’s inspirational and motivational prompts, jump-started my mind. I didn’t read each page in order, I found myself skipping from “Magic Doors and Secret Passages” to “Keepsakes.” The titles alone gave me an idea for two articles—I read the material and added two more ideas to my treasures for the future.

Main’s material isn’t only for fiction writers. Her ideas on “Freewriting” shows how to reorganize your materials and your thoughts from your research on a particular article. She references a book, too, Writing Without Teachers by Peter Elbow.

I agree with the author when she said exercising can be boring, but every author can have fun and add a new dimension of excitement to your writing by training your creative muscles.

Creative Calisthenics is a book to sit on top of your Thesaurus—right at your fingertips.

The Edits Go On and On and On

“Authors are like pianists. They take classes, buy books, and practice their craft daily. There are few, if any, authors who feel inspired and magically write and sell a first book,” said Carol Umberger at Wordsowers, our local writers group. “It takes hours of studying, writing, and editing, and hopefully someday you publish.”

I remember when Audrey Hebbert came down to the final months before “Green Light! Red Light!” published. It seemed like her emails continually commented on “even more” editing. I couldn’t imagine what else she had to do, I’d worked on her initial drafts and I knew what a grammar guru she was, but now, these weeks, I understand both Carol and Audrey better.

Thought I’d learned a lot in the last two years, but obviously I didn’t know it all. What a process. About the time I think I’ve come close to the end of “Capsules of Hope: A Survival Guide for Caregivers,” I realize there is another missing piece.

Sandy Cathcart, an Oregon author and tax consultant sent me an email this week. “What do you mean no one told you the edits are hard? That’s what we teach at every conference.” Yeah, well I heard the presenters at these conferences. I still didn’t realize how much work was involved.

This morning I read sermon notes around Philippians 2:1. That big word “IF” slam dunked me. If the Lord gave me all the materials for the book, (and I believe He did), then He’ll help me through the process, however tedious.

Sign me out, getting a grip on the verse that says, “Do not be weary in well doing.”

Merry Christmas
(still searching for my 2009 Bible verse for the year.)

A Honey Bee Attitude

Some people feel sorry for me when they see where I sit at work. (see previous post.)

In spite of where I sit, I interact with my co-workers, hourly. Sometimes more often than I choose. There is no aloneness in my corner. People walk past me to dump their recycle. The comment after their loud thud from the paper dump, “Wanted to wake you.”

There are others that meander past me to the storage cupboard a few feet from my desk, also.Of course I make the trip from the cubicle to the restroom at the opposite end of the building from me. (It must be a mile. It feels like a mile.)

It's my choice to be a "honey bee" buzzing with sweetness or . . . " You fill in the blank.

Although my hallway looks bare, I’m surrounded by needy people. This is my mission field, my Africa, China and India rolled into one. We have young and old, well off, and not too well off, co-workers.

My medical billing position helps pay the rent and buy the groceries. It is more. A few years ago I realized God placed me in this job on purpose. I speak to patients, caregivers, and insurance customer service reps every day. They are more than a voice on the phone, they are people with needs—I can choose to give them only answers to their questions or I can “delight their day” by letting them know I care.

Now my passion in life is to write. I know my written words are read by more people than I can talk to in a year, but isn’t great to know I can find happiness in both places.

Life is a journey filled with choices. I choose to be content in the medical billing world, my little cubicle in the corner—and my office at home. Yeah, I choose to act like the "honey bee," gathering and depositing sweetness wherever I can. . . off to the mission field this morning. Enjoy.

My Mission Field

My cubicle is in the barest back corner of a large office. No one sits back further than me. In fact the next cubicle holds the recycle bin. Then comes the back corner where you find office supplies.

Recently I read where a woman strung a mini-clothesline from one corner of her office to another. She hung cards by clothes pins as visuals to stimulate her writing. (I’m thinking about this idea to stimulate my life in medical billing.) However, her story triggered a memory about several years ago when my husband's illness dictated a move.

First we lived in a 24 ft travel trailer while we regrouped and later, we inherited a 10 x 55 mobile home with a tip out living room. We were thrilled to have space once more. I converted the one miniature bedroom into an office. Space enough for my desk and a file cabinet.

I'd just read Barbara Johnson's book, "Stick a Geranium in your hat and be Happy." She talked about her “joy room” where she collected all kinds of fun reminders and inspirational thoughts. My office became my joy room and like the woman with the clothesline, I decided to paste visual reminders of happier times around me.

I immediately wrote to everyone I knew and said, "Send me happy cards and jokes, this world of illness feels like gloom and doom." When the cards arrived, I “stapled” them to the ceiling. Can you imagine my mother's horror when we needed to paint the room? I left for work and she pulled staples.

I didn't produce publishable material back then, but my "joy office" brought tons of inspiration for church dramas, newsletters, and cards to others. That ceiling plastered with those gifts of laughter brought lots of smiles to my face then and now.

Still smiling, Kat