Happy Dancing in the Hurricane

Hurricane Gustav has hit. We've felt the loss of electricity in a huge way, but a no point did we believe we were without power.

In the aftermath, I took the kids westward to visit family and enjoy the blessing of washed clothes, lights and air-conditioning. Little did I know, my e-mail box contained a blessing of another sort!

The Pilgrim's Basket is progressing through the illustration phase. The illustrator contacted me and is currently set to paint the illustrations.

As soon as the proofs are sent to me, I will "reveal" the illustrator's name and link you to her site.

Amidst strewn tree branches and downed powerlines it will be necessary here for some to replant. I'm glad we still have the seeds of hope and faith.

Looking forward to seeing illustrations grow out of this story...

Mary Ellen
Happy Dancing in the Hurricane

Freedom on the Fourth

Today is the Fourth of July. I am up early, planning to go to the grocery store and buy barbequed burger supplies. I'm giving thanks that not only is our country free, but our family has the ability to buy food freely. We do not have to wonder whether we have enough money to feed our family through the end of the month.

There are so many people near us who do not have that freedom. They work hard, but ends just don't meet. Today I have e-mailed the final edits of "The Pilgrim's Basket" to the publisher. I am proud to have a role in telling Angela's story and encouraging each of us to appreciate our freedom. In this case, this may mean the freedom to enjoy eating our vegetables or freedom to plant a garden.

Today I am also thankful for the freedom from editing decisions. (Should Angela's name be spelled with one "l" or two? Does the title really portray the message of the book?)...

Thank God today for the freedom we have through Christ and find a way to share that with someone.

Happy Fourth of July~

Decisions

Tonight I sit, staring at the editor's suggestions on my manuscript, again trying to decide which comment to accept or reject. It's called a line-by-line edit. The problem is that many of the comments are subject to opinion. Do I include the word "carefully" as the editor suggests, or do I stick to what I've learned about keeping the "ly" out of the story whenever possible?

There is no absolute right or wrong in this case. I simply want to end up with the strongest, most captivating and clear version of "The Pilgrim's Basket" possible. I want readers to enjoy, sympathize and become energized to take on a service project of their own. To do this, I will have to accept that some questions will only have my word as the final answer.

Since when do I get the last word? I'm battling waves of pride that crash into vast shores of insecurity. My decision when I press send will have to be good enough. I feel so blessed to have been given this wonderful story to tell. I hope I honor those involved in the process in the final telling of it.

I feel sure that even when I decide to press forward, some questions will remain.

Questions that may remain unresolved:

How many "was" (passive) verbs are allowed in a strong story?
How much telling is permitted?
How much does a bag of recycled cans truly earn in Louisiana?
What is the difference between turning and shaking your head?
What makes dirt a dirty word and soil a proper one?
How many times would the story change if I had no deadlines?
Would I ever press send if given the option to continue changing it?

Where do I find discernment?- At least for this one I have an answer- I pray.

Tilling the soil

This page from the real-life scrapbook of Mrs. Puljak's class looked like an appropriate choice to accompany today's writing update. The words beneath the first photo read: "These are our rows before the gardener." Beneath the second photo the line reads: "This is the tiller composte that we use in our garden." The writing journey of "The Pilgrim's Basket" feels a bit like these photos right now.

I've been informed that June is the month for preliminary edits to take place. I am looking forward to communicating with the editor in order to make "The Pilgrim's Basket" as heart-filled and action motivating a story as it can be. As of today the story is somewhere between the gardener and the tiller. I'm praying that God in his gardening wisdom will nurture the idea he planted clearly through this phase.

I am reminded that this preparation of the soil will later yield growth and a bountiful harvest. I look forward to seeing what the final illustrated, published book will become. I am anxious to see growth sprout from the seed the gardener is nourishing right now.

It's a Small World in Which He Gardens

Pages taken from Shannon Puljak's scrapbook:

From the germ of an idea, to the sprout of a story, the growth is incredible. Here is the latest connection. Yesterday we brought a lemon-meringue pie to a dear friend, Mrs. Louise (who will celebrate her 90th birthday next month). Over coffee and pie I shared my excitement about seeing "The Pilgrim's Basket" come to life.

We discussed the book's inspiration as we flipped through the three scrapbooks of wonderful photos Shannon Puljak sent me. Looking at the pictures of the courtyard garden in this Ruston school, Mrs. Louise said, "That's the school where Dawn taught!" My jaw dropped. I knew that there was a Ruston connection somewhere, but for her daughter to have taught at the very same school in my story would be unreal. Mrs. Louise grabbed her phone. "Call her and see!"


Within a few moments I was busily chatting with Dawn Pinkston, Mrs. Louise's daughter. She recollected the garden learning project. Dawn said, "Oh sure, I know Shannon well." Dawn was the librarian of this school for many years. She told about the wonderful way in which students used their garden to give back to the needy in thier community. I told her that I looked forward to seeing her in the fall, book in hand, as this story comes full circle.


When I hung up the phone, I told Mrs. Louise that only God could connect all of these disparate pieces. Shannon Puljak heard of an opportunity to involve classroom learning with community service. I had heard a story and felt inspired to write it down. What God can grow from the seed of a willing heart is incredible.

Sharing the Love of Giving

Mrs. Puljak's class garden's

rutabegas and collard greens, ready for donation!

"The Pilgrim's Basket," through the story of a classroom of giving children, will motivate readers of all ages to find ways to reach out to others. Let's share that love of giving this February. Jump in with your ideas, links and favorite ways to share what we are given.

1. Giving idea of the day: http://www.freerice.com/ Donate free rice with every word you define!
2. Jump over to Christina Berry's blog http://www.authorchristinaberry.blogspot.com/to see how her daughter's birthday party became a giving event.

I can't wait to see how you are sharing love~

Mary Ellen

The Idea Takes Root

"I feel like I already know you," I said as Shannon Puljak answered the phone.

As the journey from manuscript of "The Pilgrim's Basket" to final book began, a key component was knowing the story's roots. Because the actual garden project the story idea grew from was planted five years ago, unearthing the teacher seemed improbable.

With God nothing is impossible however, and last night's conversation was a clear example of this. I spoke with Shannon, the third grade teacher whose classroom Learn and Serve project inspired "The Pilgrim's Basket" and got the dirt on the real story. I learned about Shannon's willingness to attend a grant-writing workshop and follow through with ways the grant could be used to serve her school and enrich their community.

Finally, I heard about the collard greens that in the book become carrots and about the little girl whose hunger and gratitude so impacted me. I heard about an elderly neighbor who, with Shannon, came to the school courtyard on Saturdays to till the soil in preparation for the planting. I heard about the scarecrow the kindergarten classes made and the way the entire school anticipated the garden's harvest. I learned about the continual production and reharvesting as the growing season continued.

From the seed of an idea "The Pilgrim's Basket" took root. Shannon's inspirational teaching provided more growth than one harvest showed. It continues to produce. I look forward to seeing the fiction story it inspired plant new ideas in readers as they reach out to serve and grow.

The Germ (of an idea)

Have you ever wondered where stories come from? In this case, it all started with a story told over Mexican food. Christee Atwood, author of Journal of a Midlife Crisis, had the brilliant idea of gathering friends together who had one common link, writing. What resulted was lively conversaton, delicious food, and ideas that bore fruit among many present that evening.

That night I met Denise Dowell. We shared a love of writing and children. It didn't take long for us to begin telling stories about children who inspire us. Denise's work with service learning brings her all over the nation to facilitate the inclusion of service learning projects in the classroom. Over nachos Denise shared a story about a Louisiana teacher, Shannon Puljak, and her class that begged to be written down.

Finally, "The Pilgrim's Basket," the fiction story inspired by that garden growing service learning project, has taken root in the publishing industry. Living Waters Publication will put this inspiring story into print in 2008. It is presently in the hands of its illustrator.

I'm praying that the idea shared over nachos, which later germinated into a story, will grow into a book that draws others into serving their community in wonderful new ways.

Join me in the journey as I track the growth of "The Pilgrim's Basket" on this blog. Stop by often. I covet the encouragement and prayer.

Mary Ellen

Introducing Angela

Angela watched the droplets trickle down the glass window pane as the yellow bus pulled to a stop. Only one more stop left. Her stomach rumbled.

"Hey, did you say somethin'?" A tangle topped head turned around to ask from the seat in front of her.

Angela shook her head and slid down in her seat until the back of the green pleather seat hid her from view. She wiped away a tear and bit her lip before tangle boy heard her cry too. Maybe there would be something in the refrigerator today.

The bus pulled to a stop again. Angela rose and made her way to the front of the bus. As she passed the driver, he waved and smiled. "See you tomorrow."

Angela's smile wavered. She nodded and stepped off of the bus. She didn't expect anyone to be home when she took her key out of its special zippered compartment and slid it into the lock. She certainly didn't expect the smell that wafted through the door as it opened.

"Mom," Angela called, walking forward. She was certain now. It didn't matter if the fridge was empty. She smelled homemade bread.


Look for more about Angela's journey in my children's book "The Pilgrim's Basket" coming out in 2008 by Living Waters Publications.

Mary Ellen