Christmas Head

Yesterday, I was riding in the car with a friend to go meet another lady to pick up a box full of clothes and toiletries to donate to a women’s shelter she supports. We were riding in her big Cadillac Escalade and just as we pulled onto the 101 south and took our lane we saw 3 cars almost collide with each other narrowly avoiding causing a huge accident which would have likely affected us and consequently involved many other motorists around us.

The blessed motorists who somehow chose in that moment to listen to their God given intuition and the voices of their driving angels, decided in that split second prior to what would have been a disastrous lane change, to look twice and really see the people in the cars directly next to them. Instead of crashing into them, they waved at them as if to say “Oh I didn’t see you there and I almost hit you, completely ruining your day, so sorry about that!” and we watched as they waited for the others to pass before they proceeded into their lane and continued on with their busy day.

My friend said to me after witnessing this, “Good thing it’s Christmas and everyone is being nice to each other!”

We felt like we had witnessed a small miracle! No one shook their fists at each other or used rude gestures and we saw no lips mouthing angry words. Thank God for Christmas!

Now the inattention behind the wheel usually comes from what I call during this time of year, “Christmas Head.” Everyone so caught up in the rush and consumer buzz of the Christmas holiday they are paying no attention to the present moment, whether its behind the wheel or in line waiting at a retail store, their heads are missing what’s right in front of them as their minds drift on to the next item on their “to do list.” So caught up are we at times during the holidays that we completely miss the true expectation of Christmas, the beautiful anticipation of the celebrated anniversary of the birth of Jesus. The birth of our salvation, the birth of our eternal grace from sin. I know that pointing this out is almost cliché but it is a pitfall we face every day, not just at Advent.

We often become drowsy and complacent to the gift of God’s love and salvation and the promise that this world is not our last stop. We fall asleep to the needs of others and place ourselves, our endeavors, before all else and instead of asking what can I do for God’s glory today? We insist on comfort and instant gratification for ourselves. We are blind to the elderly widow who lives next door and is alone day after day, or the co-worker who hasn’t smiled in a week, that we don’t stop to ask why they aren’t smiling or offer to sit down and share a cup of coffee with them. Most times, we don’t really see the people around us, like missing that car in our blind spot while driving; we develop blind spots in how we should be love to the people around us.

Advent is a time for us to grow, to step out of our norm and work on “seeing” each other better, loving each other anew in hopes of expanding our hearts beyond Christmas. We do know that the best gifts don’t come from a catalog and are not wrapped in brightly colored paper. The best gifts come from the heart; they are the moments that we share with one another in love, compassion and charity. God knows our hearts, He shaped us, He knows our capacity for love, He knows the gifts He has placed in us and waits on us to choose to use them of our own free will. Loving each other as Christ loved us, being His light to the world. The star that shines beyond Advent.

JCB 12-8-12

What We Write

I have found as a writer and an avid reader there are several ways to tell a story, but when using classic principles to illustrate the trials and tribulations of our characters we learn to see our narrative in three acts.

In the first act our protagonist is minding his own ordinary business and something happens to him that changes his life or his outlook on life forever. Perhaps his wife leaves him, or he wins the lottery, or someone he loves is murdered or dies. Nevertheless, the event changes him and he will never be the same person he was before the event occurred.

When we meet our character again in Act II he is trying to figure out where he stands in his "new world," what he can do about his new reality, and how he is going to cope with his new understanding of the world around him. He investigates. In the case of a murder mystery he might begin to look for clues, following the signs to the truth behind the mystery. Ultimately in search of justice; closure so he can move on, peace. A new degree of "ordinary".

One of my favorite writing teacher authors, James Scott Bell calls Act II the "muddle in the middle". He likens the three act structure to a suspension bridge or two doorways of no return with a long stretch of road between them that we must navigate successfully to become the hero.

Once you past the first concrete pile-on or step through the first doorway you enter act two. Then comes the hero's quest, the middle of the story, the muddling around, where our character figures out who he is in the midst of his chaos, he puts the puzzle pieces together and he is propelled past the second pile-on of the suspension bridge, or through the proverbial second doorway of no return towards resolution.

This last doorway is a culmination of events that leads him into act three. This doorway raises the stakes a little higher but it eventually leads him, maybe at the cost of life or limb to the truth, reconciliation, understanding. In the murder mystery plot this is when he finds the last salacious clue, he find out who did it, confronts him or her and in act three they are brought to justice.

As a writer, I am always considering this formula, and how my characters have been placed and react to the stakes I have raised for them to rail against. I know it's cliche to refer to life as a three act play but in my own project I am in the midst of rewriting and editing Act II and it donned on me that in the journey of writing my novel, emotionally I am also in Act II. I realized we are all "muddling in the middle" of some problem or life experience we have faced that has pulled us down to the mat or slowed our personal growth to a crawl.

My church calls this time of year "ordinary time". I'm catholic so whenever it is mentioned or I read it somewhere at church it strikes me as odd and I feel a guttural response to stand up and shout what the heck is so ordinary about it? It doesn't feel ordinary to me at all! I am working on a novel that has consumed my every thought for the past four years. Ordinary seems strange to say when I have friends struggling to find work, or overcome illness. Women are having babies, husbands are getting promoted, there's flooding and hurricanes tormenting the middle of the country, I could go on and on. Good or bad, tragic or joyous these moments of our lives are far from ordinary, they are indeed extraordinary if we really stop to notice.

Aren't we just trying to uncover the clues, find peace within the chaos, strength to rise above? Our lives are several intertwined stories, with numerous sub-plots, infinite problems needing solutions, some big, some very small, all happening at once. If you are a writer or an artist of any kind or perhaps simply a student of life, the "muddle in the middle" is life itself! Finding ways to cope and overcome adversity, helping others in their journey; we are all in search of success over our particular experience in Act I. Not only is it what we write but it is why we write.

So keep writing!

-JC Beichner

Dear Diary

This time last week I was headed to the airport for a weekend in Los Angeles to attend author James Scott Bell's "Novel & Screenplay Intensive" workshop. I was ready. Up to that point I had been making slow progress on my re-writes for my civil war novel. All last year I had worked with my editor Paul in honing an outline for the book that took into account plot, subplot, character development, suspense and credibility. When we had looked at every possible angle for creating a story with all these elements skillfully aligned, we cut the cord between us and this aspiring author was then sent to go it alone and begin re-writing and implementing all the new and exciting changes I had created with Paul leading me through the finer points of classic storytelling. Of course, I thought I would fly through theses changes and be done within a couple of months with a brilliant completed novel ready to sell to the highest bidder. Let's put it this way, my enthusiasm for life is such that I am a horrible judge of time. How's that for a positive spin?

As anyone who has ever written a novel will tell you, after so many months of nailing down in outline who your characters are, why they do what they do and what lies in store for them, you naturally have to spend some serious time in contemplation watching the movie of them in your head. It was crucial for me to sit and think about everything I had developed and what it looked like in my mind's eye so that I would later me able to put pen to paper. If I didn't spend time under the thinking tree how would I know what to write? Here's the catch, all of a sudden I was napping under that tree and not spending very much time "with butt in chair" actually working.

I had begun to procrastinate and then allowed everything in my life to over run my time, leaving me with no energy left to write. I lost my balance. Now mind you, I was completely aware that I was doing this, I could see a small snowball in my head rolling down hill, picking up speed, growing in size, consuming everything in it's path. Occasionally, I would stop it's forward motion and jot down a few notes that I would not trust my mind to commit to memory, just to slow down the inevitable crash. But I was not giving my passion enough attention or importance, and soon I began to mentally punish myself for my laziness and lack of service to the priority that is my novel. I became mad that I was not Bradly Cooper's character in "Limitless" who could sit down and finish a best selling novel in a weekend, never mind he was on drugs (I never should have seen that movie). What ever my personal insult, I started to contrive a story that this lack of progress was just a part of another past failure that was going to dictate the future of my book because their was no way I was going to have the strength to break the vicious cycle and show the world what I had to offer!

Now after a weekend in LA focused soley on my passion, I am in a completely different space and I am seeing how truly unkind I can be to myself. If a dear friend came to me with the same angst I have just described for their own work and progress and a desire to be DONE yesterday, I would tell them how completely unreasonable they are being and that anything worth doing is worth doing right. Adding that where ever they are in their process is exactly where they are supposed to be. So this is how I test my rationale. Am I taking my own advice? If the answer is no..which up until recently has indeed been the case then I stop and admit that this speed bump in the road is where I have some work to do.

James Scott Bell's workshop last weekend was a brilliant new jumping off point for me. He is a divinely talented teacher and creative doctor. I am humbled beyond belief that I have found so many amazing writers along this literary path to show me the way and share their experiences, helping me bring my first commercial novel to fruition. I have read Bell's books on writing, and attended a webinar on his plot and structure theories but what has impressed me the most about him as a teacher is his ego; he doesn't have one. He is truly a servant to writers of the written word and the art of bringing those words to life on the page or screen and how we can best survive the roller coaster journey without beating ourselves up for what we think we don't know.

We can always improve and as a testament to that we had at least two prolific authors in our midst taking notes along with us and contributing to the conversation of growth throughout the weekend. Their humble presence reminded me that we never stop learning or wanting to improve and it is entirely up to us whether or not we let our past dictate our future.

Sitting in this workshop I realized I am much further along than I thought and not only am I close to being done but I am nailing my structure and character development! Where I have faltered? I can fix it! I have all the tools I need and in the end, time is truly relative. My only deadlines are self imposed and most of the time judgemental and unreasonable and do not serve my faith that God has big plans for me.

One of the best pieces of advice that I gleaned from Mr. Bell's workshop was a bit he passed on about keeping a novel journal. He suggested as he had learned from another successful author, that in keeping a diary of your novel's journey you can vent on paper all your built up angst,  nervous energy, emotional baggage as well as side bar conversations with your characters and ways to attack problems in your story. Doing this each day before beginning your novel writing clears your mind and sharpens your creativity to begin the real work on your art. Interesting, a novel journal is kind of like a blog isn't it?

Thank you Mr. Bell and welcome to my novel journey-I mean journal!

-JC Beichner

"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow" - Mary Anne Radmacher

Inspiration

You know the rush you feel at Christmas time when there are so many things on your to do list you feel like your head will explode? I always try to stop myself, take a deep breath and get centered in the true meaning of the season before I press forward. Otherwise, I end up feeling like a cliche, another person lost in the rat race of life lacking the common sense to stop and smell the flowers. Feeling like the only reason why I am shopping and decorating for the holidays is because the TV told me to. For these reasons, there are several people, you know them as well, who pronounce during the holidays that they hate Christmas.

This past year over the holidays, I once again felt the "rush" and my body and mind pulled into the powerful energy that time is a wastin'. Once the holidays were over and the new year had begun with expectancy I noticed the rush did not seem to end. I started to wonder as life was speeding all around me if this level of energy was the new normal?

I asked a few friends, "Does it feel like we are still in the holiday rush to you?"

Every friend I polled seemed to say, "Yes, its unbelievable, I don't know where the days are going!"

Something I can't ignore about this new "rush" compared to the holidays, for me anyways,  is I am experiencing so much synchronicity. Unlike during the holidays when you get sucked up into all that "craziness" and nothing seems to go as planned. Lately my schedule between work and play and seeing friends and family is falling into place with ease. I suppose the other difference would be that I am working out regularly and eating right instead of pigging out on holiday cookies and skipping the gym! (Thank God I got that part figured out in my perpetual holiday season). I find I am so eager to get up in the morning and start the day with my many projects in front of me, I struggle to figure out which one to start first. I just don't have enough hours in the day to finish them all.

So now I get up between 5-6am and start working on my civil war novel (now in the homestretch) until I hit the gym around 930am and then I come home and start working on my training business for the rest of the day. Around lunch time, I take a break and call my dear friend Gerri and check in with her on how she is doing with her book and its different business aspects and we usually talk about what has been the best part of our day so far. Sometimes I am eating my lunch while we talk just to get extra time on the phone with her (she doesn't mind). We talk about our daily triumphs, obstacles, marketing strategies, writing schedules, ideas for growing our businesses and what or who we need to say some prayers for in our lives. I have come to understand what the term "power lunch" really means. After lunch, it's back to the day job until dinner. Between dinner and bedtime, I relax with my husband and give all my attention to him and a few random household chores. This schedule or rather how I execute it, or succeed, is always challenged but I hold the vision of  harmony and can always try again the next day.

Truly, I realize the difference is perspective. In this new flow compared to the old holiday rush, I have noticed I am joyful and excited. I feel consumed by spirit and my new favorite word is unstoppable (it sounds a bit corny, I know).

I will finish my novel in the next two months, teach numerous CPR & First Aid training classes along the way (my day job) as well as help others reach their writing goals (my editing/consulting side job). In cohesion with all of this, my husband and I will continue to nurture and enjoy our marriage, I'll sing in the choir at church and have meaningful time with my family, friends as well as enjoy everyday moments shared with strangers where only a kind word or a smile is exchanged. All of which fill me up and keep me motivated in the face of daily adversity.

Indeed it is all about perspective. You can see your life and everything in it as a wonderful adventure, full of high energy and blessings or a hectic time where you are in complete resistance fighting life every step of the way wondering when something good is going to happen.

I used to work in law enforcement many years ago so I know a little something about being a control freak. I loved my job then too but sometimes struggled to find a peaceful balance between policing everything whether I was at work or not or just going with the flow and enjoying life's ride. To survive any type of public service job whether its being a police officer, a nurse or a flight attendant you have to find a little "Zen" in every day for balance. What you do for a living isn't always who you are, it's just the beginning.

I always say that when I began to write is when I entered into "Type A Recovery", one of these days I will write that book (great title)! One of my favorite quotes that keeps me centered is from Souza:

"Dance as though no one is watching you, love as though you have never been hurt before, sing as though no one can hear you, live as though heaven is on earth."

If you try to search for Souza as source on the Internet, he is an enigma. The only information I could find referred to him as Alfred Souza, Alfred D. Souza or Father Alfred D. Souza and said that he was a writer, philosopher, theologian who lived in Brisbane Australia and died in 2004. It's too bad because this quote has given me and I'm sure thousands new perspective on life. Maybe Souza perferred anonimity or thought the credit should be given to a higher source?

I'm sure you have heard the quote many times before but my favorite part of the quote is the part about living as though "heaven is on earth." If heaven is on earth, than it is always Christmas!

In doing my research I found yet another Souza quote:

“For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.”

I think this quote is now my new favorite.

- JC Beichner

Thank You 2010

At the end of the year we all naturally take some sort of inventory. What have we accomplished. Where we have gone. Who we have met. With the ebb and flow of recollection and emotion, moments of the past year can seem like yesterday or a handful of years ago and still only be within the span of the last 12 months. Doesn't last January, seems like ages ago?

So many of our memories are marked by special events on the calendar like birthdays and holidays. Eventful days that assist us in remembering the time as it passes and properly filing it away as the more important images we should not forget. But still there are even more ordinary moments that without a bookmark can quickly fade into the dim light of our mind's eye, save for their emotional echo sometimes lingering behind still connected to a place or a friend.

I sometimes wish I could save these everyday extraordinary moments inside a type of snow globe that I could shake once in awhile to relive them all over again on especially gloomy days when nothing feels right and you have to look so much harder to find the beauty in a person, place or thing. Yet, I know I would become a hoarder. I would have so many memory filled snow globes there would be little room for any thing else in our house. So on this last day of 2010 I am going to shake the crazy snow globe that is my head and look hard at all the people, places and things that have blessed our life this year. In doing so I hope I will make way for all the wonderful people, places and things I have yet discover and experience in 2011 and beyond.

Thank you 2010, for my husband David and his gentle, loving heart that expands and flexes with his crazy wife's overly enthusiastic and positive spirit. Thank you for our entire family, especially our three amazing Grandsons who call me Nana, and always tell me that they love me.

Thank you 2010 for letting me discover something new about my self every time I pick up a pen to write or touch my fingers to a keyboard.

Thank you for our beautiful home where we have been able to welcome so many friends and family this year. Where inside we have celebrated good health, the well written word, birthdays, confirmations, warm holidays by a fireplace, reunions with old friends, late night discussions and of course, love.

Thank you 2010 for our Faith, the Holy Spirit that fills our lives and reminds each of us how very special and treasured we are in God's love despite the darkness that persists in the world around us.

Thank you for all the amazing places we have been able to go and our friends and family that through so many blessings, we have been able to spend time with in California, Park City, New York, Colorado and our river house.

Thank you for the butterfly at the top of the Empire State building that reminded me to believe in my dreams.

Thank you 2010 for all of our new friends and for all of our old friends, especially those we were able to reconnect with in gratitude for intertwined histories and hearts that help us realize how far we have come in this life.

Thank you for the tears. The tears of joy, the tears of grief, and the tears of anger. Thank you for the tears we have shed for those who have gone ahead leaving us behind to miss them in anticipation of divine reunion.

Thank you for letting us be there for others in word, deed or spirit as they were grieving or struggling this year. Thank you for all of our failures this year that made us try harder and for all of those who were there for us when we needed them.

Thank you for the harsh words we heard or said that later reminded us to be more kind. To let our vanities go. To be love.

Thank you 2010 for the inspiration of others that told us to keep trying, to dig deeper and in turn be an inspiration to others.

Thank you for allowing us to dance and move, yet still remember how difficult it can be when you cannot. Thank you for our open minds and willing hearts that are not afraid to listen, be tolerant, or patient.

Thank you so much for all the smiles, hugs, kisses, laughter and prayers that sustained us and will sail us into 2011.

Thank you.

Abundance

While talking with a friend the other night, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. It felt bright and warm like stepping into the sun after being in an over air conditioned room for too long. My friend is a writer too, a soul sister to be sure. She is older than me, with children and grandchildren, but our dreams are the same and our journey ever so intertwined. When I am frustrated or lonely for inspiration, she is there. My friend.

Friendship is the greatest gift we ever give to another person, yet sometimes we find ourselves in the vacuum of life and it feels like work or just one more thing taking up the time that we don't have left in our day. I hate that pressured feeling. The feeling of "have to." Whether it's in my work, around the house or in my relationships. It's steeped in ego and only speaks of scarcity.

Sometimes, when I feel that pressure of items not checked off my "to do" list, I stop myself and focus on the word "abundance" and the fact that I truly believe that everything happens in God's perfect timing. Then I exhale and continue on. I want to notice, really see, the abundance in each and every day, every moment and every loved ones' face but it takes practice.

Recently, I came to an understanding with my body that exercising is an absolute necessity. I now enjoy going to the gym. No really, I do. Another dear friend of mine teaches kick boxing at our gym and we also attend Zumba classes together which are a blast! Both classes are heavy cardio, which demand that you effectively breathe lots of air in and out, very quickly if you wish to survive either class. For whatever reason, I often find myself holding my breath. In light of the fact that breathing is the most natural un-thinking thing we do as human beings; I over think it!

Halfway through a class, I end up turning bright red and sweating profusely so much so that when I run errands after the gym and don't touch base with my husband, he fears I may have passed out in class and pictures me surrounded by women in skimpy workout clothes shaking their heads at my limp body lying on the floor and saying, "She was so young, if only she breathed more often."

So as I workout, I try to make myself more aware of my breathing as to not become totally heat exhausted. Then, it suddenly dawns on me that I am not exercising in "abundance." I obviously have some strange fear that there is not enough air in the room or less faith that I can follow the instructor and breathe at the same time. Why? Because despite my best efforts, like everyone else, God-fearing or not, we succumb to "there is not enough for everybody" rather than "because of everybody, there is enough."

It's all fear, a lack of love in some way, shape or form. I am familiar with all this, as in my writing, when I momentarily freak out and worry about not having enough time or taking too much time, to finish my book or other projects.

I am so glad that I have lived enough to know how incredibly off base all of that nonsense truly is in comparison to what we are all capable of if only we commit ourselves to what is possible. There is enough.

"Abundance" is my one word meditation and prayer to God everyday for myself and for all those that I love. It's my simple way of telling myself "I can go on," "I will get there and I am doing just fine."

Everything, of course, is easier said than done and sometimes "abundance" is elusive, so I have to start with "gratitude." I begin by counting all the ways I am blessed. Blessed with a loving spouse, amazing friends, a project I love working on, the ability to exercise, fresh air to breath (sigh), food on my table and a heart and mind that is open and ready to receive.

The next time you speak to a friend, complete a project or just enjoy a great movie, stop for a moment and bask in the glow of your appreciation for whatever it is, and you will find with just a small dose of self-awareness, that you have landed yourself somewhere between gratitude and abundance.

"Autumn is wisdom, the breath between what was and what lies ahead."

- JC Beichner

Just the Edge of the Map

Over the past several months I have been continuously editing and revising my civil war novel. Yes, the same one I wrote in 52 days from beginning to end in the spring of 2008.

Writing a novel of any sort is no small task but a task I do recommend to almost every one I meet who is interested in writing. Why? Because it is an amazing learning experience to say the least. Writing this novel has been both a pleasure and a chore but there is no way to measure how much I have learned about myself not to mention the craft of writing itself.

Last month, I joyously submitted my work thus far to an amazing professional editor and after he read my novel twice through we had an almost 4 hour editorial review. It was fantastic. Much of what he had to say confirmed my creative instincts that I am on the right path. As a novice writer, this review alone could be chalked up to a huge success. We discussed every aspect of the story, from my characters, to plot structure, themes and our combined ideas for revision. The positive chemistry of our thoughts on how to make this story the very best it can be completely exceeded my expectations.

Now a month later my mind is all over the place and some days it is a struggle to get myself into my desk chair. Don’t get me wrong the ideas are coming, I have written tons of notes and I have spent a lot of time under my “thinking tree” day dreaming myself back into different aspects of my story and trying not to get anxious when I am doing more thinking than writing. Like everything else in life it is all in one's approach to the task that you find success or failure. Some people might imagine that when you find an editor the job of writing the book is mostly done and you are on the down hill slide just around the corner to publication. Yes and no. What I am discovering is revision and editing are just the edge of the map and the most important time of all for me to hold fast to my dream.

Sitting for hours and hours on end creating an alternate universe of fiction in what sometimes feels like solitary confinement with just my laptop, IPod, thoughts and of course my faith has been both an amazing privilege and a frightening prospect. I never imagined this is where my life would lead me. All of you who know me personally can attest to the fact I am a true people person and I’m sure you could easily imagine that sometimes the hardest part of writing for me is taking my self out of the daily grind, away from phone calls, emails and everything social. It is quite difficult sometimes, however, an even bigger challenge which may seem cliché is trying to stay positive, motivated and determined that one day this story, this novel, will actually be in print for all to read.

Negativity is indeed the wicked step-sister who whispers in your ear while you scrub the floor dreaming about the Ball. Self doubt inevitably rears its ugly head and you have to take a break and refocus. When the doldrums strike, I feel as though this pursuit is delusional, self centered and arrogant and I should give it all up and use my free time for volunteer work or just cleaning out my closet. Anne Lamont said in her writing memoir Bird by Bird “the other voices are banshees and drunken monkeys.”

Without fail, I soon realize I could never be as happy doing something else as I have found myself to be in writing. When I am writing in the zone, my story flowing effortlessly, it occurs to me that if I could encourage one other person to pursue their own dreams based on the determination of my own, than I am truly doing the work for which God himself gifted me to do.

What I do know is there is no winning without facing a challenger. You can not be the champion if you are unopposed. Therefore we all must face the “I cant’s” and “You never will’s…” and remember to to fortify our dreams with loving, supportive friends and family that will only multiply our positive energy whenever we share our progress or triumphs.

(My fortifications? You all know who you are, you received an email that brought you here to read this blog and I thank God for each and every one of you every day.)

A dear friend of mine always reminds me when I lose sight of things that light cannot exist without dark. Halting the procrastination, I sit back down in my desk chair and I am again at a positive jumping off point. “Butt in chair” re-motivates me and I begin to notice that the time between lost and found is getting shorter as I continue to practice following my heart rather than my head.

It sounds a bit corny I know but our heart is where the deep identity of our soul resides in my own humble opinion. I have come to believe that our heart and soul are forever fighting against our ego mind to reveal to us who we are and what is possible despite the chaos and negativity coursing through the backdrops of our lives. Our egos can bring forward the most pounding criticisms of our past mistakes. Regrets and self-loathing that will suffocate us if we allow the dark hum too much time on the stage. For me, every muddied dark point and every sparkling shining moment of our lives make up all that we are during each and every moment of every day (whether we are consciously aware of it or not).

I believe there can be a balance and I think that is what we were sent here to practice. I find it sometimes when I am writing and it feels like perfection. Other people find it in a spread sheet or behind the wheel of a truck. Not unlike a painting, a masterpiece in the works; we are slowly coming together with each brushstroke. Light colors, dark colors, a tapestry of all that we have been and will be. The kicker is that we DO get to choose the brushes, the canvas and of course all the colors. We do not have to be victims of an assembly line. It is entirely up to us what essence of ourselves we want to spotlight or hold up to scrutiny.

My heart led me to start writing a few years ago and I walked through a doorway into more than I thought was possible in my life. Along the way I have discovered enormous blessings in self discovery, love and friendship all because I was willing to step outside of my comfort zone.

Now I just have to stay the course. I still have so much work to do and I could easily focus on my short comings and lost time but for today, at this moment, I choose not to and I hope that will be enough to silence the "banshees and drunken monkeys".

Big Dream

“Big Dream”
Written by Alice Randall/Ralph Murphy
For 1993 Movie “Thing Called Love”

I have a dream of my own, it’s mine and mine alone.
It’s been my friend, since I was just a girl
It has a life, it has a heart, has a soul and it’s a part,
of everything this woman gives the world
And it’s a big dream, big enough to share,
like a rainbow, hanging in the air
and I thank God for making it come true

Makes me think maybe, God’s a woman too
Makes me think maybe God’s a woman too

There’s a full moon tonight and I’m bathing in its light
Naked as the day that I was born
There is no shame beneath this sky, I have kissed the past goodbye
And mended up my broken heart so torn
With a sweet sound, only I can make
and it gets stronger with every breath I take
And it’s all a part of making me feel new

Makes me think maybe, God’s a woman too,
Makes me think maybe God’s a woman too.

Guaranteed

Just before the end of the year I had a routine doctor's appointment, as I prepared to leave, I thanked the doctor and I wished him a happy new year. As he walked out the examination room door on the way to his next patient, he responded to me over his shoulder, by saying "Guaranteed."

I was so surprised and impressed by his attitude. He had just removed a suspicious sun spot from my back that ultimately was benign but in that moment he completely inspired me to renew my outlook on the new year ahead.

How many of us do our job that way in light of the world around us? With the sluggish economy, so many people out of work and scrapping to get by, businesses closing all over our neighborhoods, soldiers in harm's way over seas and friends stricken with illness it would be an understatment to say some days are downright dreary.

My doctor blessed me in that moment and I knew before receiving the lab results that I had absolutely nothing to worry about. He was right.

He reminded me of a quote by Martin Luther King Jr. that I had first seen 13 years ago posted on the home page of my police department network computer:

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”

This motivational quote was not lost on me, I was inspired to be a better public servant. Some days I was so worn out by the constant reports of crime and abuse it was easy to fall into an attitude of indifference. I wrote that quote down on a yellow sticky note and taped it inside the lid of my metal report case as a reminder I was in fact the person taking the report and not the victim who had called me for help.

I could picture the street sweeper with a smile on his face, whistling a tune as he pushed trash out of the street, pleased, in full realization of his grand place in the scheme of things, the beauty of his link in the chain of the universe. This image always lifted my spirits. It humbled me to imagine how Martin Luther King Jr. himself would not have been ashamed to be a street sweeper, in so many ways that was exactly who he was, the ultimate public servant.

I do believe if we throw our hearts full tilt towards our dreams for the new year and share our love for each other unabashed, in words and deeds, that the faith we carry in those our best intentions can transform life all around us. Many of my friends and family consider me the ultimate "Pollyanna", it's true and for this confession I will not apologize or repent.

Some say there are no guarantees but I say "attitude is everything".

Have a wonderful and prosperous new year!
Sincerely,

Jennifer

Harvest

October has always been one of my favorite months of the year. Summer is definitely over and in the neighborhood I grew up in, the leaves would begin to crunch under your feet and a mysterious smell of the season started to permeate the evening air just before we were all called in for dinner. Perhaps the smell came from the pumpkins sitting on everyone’s front porch, fermenting through their first and last great performances, or maybe the smell was a bi-product of the chemical reaction from the change all around us in the trees, the air, the times---I never figured it out but it was intoxicating and spoke only October to me.

October was our friend. Halloween was in the air all month long and the fall marked our survival of the first month back to school. We were comforted once again by things familiar as we all fell back into the routines of everyday school life. By October you realized if you just kept your nose down in your work, the newest school year to present itself would pass, and do so quickly, lost in time flying by unnoticed, sailing us right through to Christmas and beyond.

Maybe I love October because it was the last time I saw my father, his last birthday in 1983. Dad came home from the hospital for a few days and my brother and I thought, maybe just maybe, he was getting better, he would make it. October was full of hope. Hope that all things change, good or bad, like the color of the leaves and the weather.

Despite losing our father the day before Halloween, my mom encouraged us to dress up and go out trick or treating with our friends and try to enjoy ourselves. She told us that Dad would have wanted it that way. I'm sure she was right. Even though I was 10 and my brother was 13 we knew we weren’t really kids anymore. So I dressed up in my Grandfather’s clown costume, 15 sizes too big for me, and my friend Julie and I followed my brother and a few friends door to door trying to fill old pillowcases with the magic of the holiday. With every step around the neighborhood, my brother and I silently promised ourselves we would not hold a grudge against October.

Now I am 27 years older and the calendar pages seem to turn with no effort. October is still a welcomed visitor for me and this year I am beginning to appreciate it even more. I feel the harvest. Although I never lived or worked on a farm, I find myself taking inventory of the past year long before Thanksgiving. What did I cultivate in my life this year? What still needs to be nurtured? October seems to be my time to stop, take a deep, grateful breath, and count my blessings for all I have accomplished and experienced. Good and bad.

This past year and its challenges as well as its triumphs have been gifts from God and the hurdles I have yet to scale are comforting companions as I look to the years end. I am ready to hunker down into cooler temperatures and complete my writing goals for this year with a steaming cup of coffee sitting on my desk. I am also looking forward to the benefits of the seeds I have already planted coming to fruition next year. I realize now more than ever that every triumph, tragedy and ordinary, poetic moment in between shapes us and reminds me that where ever I am in life is exactly where I am supposed to be.

"The Call of the Writer’s Craft" by Tom Bird reviewed by Jennifer Beichner

My Hippie Muse

Almost four years ago I found out that the women in my family, myself included, were all hiding something. Secrets that kept us emotionally apart from each other but unbeknownst to one another gave us so much in common and finally we were all ready to start talking about it. This epiphany became the premise for my first novel, "The Sister Within". It was then that I set a goal for myself to write a book about the trials and tribulations of being a woman, the experiences of motherhood for so many and the conflicts of my own heart in deciding to not have children of my own.

I had always possessed an ability to write. Whether it was creatively in honors English classes in high school and junior college or in my career writing police reports, business proposals or letters. It came easy for me and held my attention with enthusiasm. For whatever reasons, I never completed a college degree although my desire to do so is still strong. But one thing I knew, I was going to write and complete a novel based on the amazing women in my life and hopefully publish and parlay that piece into a fruitful writing career that fit my life with a retired firefighter to a tee. I just did not how I was going to go about it?

I started with journaling. A scene would come to my mind or pieces of dialogue and no matter where I was I would stop whatever I was doing, pull out pen and paper and write it down. It was my gut instinct that led me and I knew as I had been previously taught in law enforcement, gut instincts were meant to be obeyed. A few weeks in, a flyer from the local community college here in Scottsdale found me and I enrolled in a one day class on writing and publishing taught by an author named Tom Bird. Bird immediately held my attention and I bought both his books, read them quickly and put his method to work in writing my first novel. I finished the first draft of "The Sister Within" a few short months later. I even queried my story to several literary agents using Tom’s method and received a huge positive response.

I went on to attend two of Tom Bird’s Sedona weekend retreats for writing and publishing and eventually hired Tom as my personal writing coach. During my work with Tom on an individual basis I wrote my second novel "A Dark Place of Promise". My second book, a civil war novel, about two sisters orphaned at the end of the civil war outside of Savannah, was written in less time than the first. This book helped me to hone my craft and find my voice as a writer more than I could have ever imagined.

Now I find myself nose deep in editing and research with my life completely changed. My goal of being a successful published author is just around the corner thanks to Tom and the repercussions of the journey thus far are immeasurable in the peace that I now find in every day. I have faced the worst critic, which is myself of course and have silenced her with every new word I put to paper in one of my stories. “I can’t” is no longer in my vocabulary.

Tom now has a new book out which puts his easy to follow writing method at every readers fingers tips. "The Call of the Writer’s Craft" is brilliant in its comprehensive style and amount of resources all contained in one easy to read book. I have read dozen of books on the market for novice writers and nothing has come close to delivering the reader into the seat of the writer better than Tom Bird’s "The Call of the Writer’s Craft". It has been my pleasure to work with Tom and his guidance both in print and in person, invaluable to my work and pursuit of happiness. He is a writer’s guru, a hippie muse from way back but boy, does he have it “write on.”

Tom Bird has an intuitive gift for knowing exactly what writers need to succeed from the paper to print and everything in between and with "The Call of the Writer’s Craft", he leads us directly into the reality of writing and selling our work and becoming the accomplished author we have always dreamed of being.

Tom Bird shines a light into every dark and intimidating corner of the writing and publishing world proving there is nothing to fear but fear itself. All that is unknown quickly and concisely becomes known in this efficiently written writer’s handbook. He not only covers all possible topics relating to the creative process and securing book deals but shows the reader examples of what he is talking about in the appendix section and provides an index in the back for quick reference use of his book. Having read several separate books on writing, publishing, editing and finding a literary agent prior to reading "The Call of the Writer’s Craft", I can honestly say I have never come across a book as helpful and comprehensive as this one.


Jennifer Beichner

For more information about Tom Bird and his writing retreats and workshops, visit: www.writeyourbookin8days.com

"The Call of the Writer’s Craft" by Tom Bird is available online through Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble book sellers.

"The Sister Within" - Book Preview

The Sister Within
By Jennifer Beichner
Chapter 1

I like to go to the movies by myself. Although, I am always a bit relieved when the lights are turned down and everyone in the theatre, whether they came alone or with a date, becomes an anonymous viewer. Everyone’s identity fades into the dark and is forgotten in the attractive glow of the flashing screen. I love the movies.

When I was 16, I worked at a movie theatre. We wore blue polyester pants, red, white and blue plaid long sleeve, button down shirts with blue bow ties and fitted red vests. At the end of the day your clothes and your hair smelled like buttered popcorn. No matter how many times I washed my uniform I couldn't get rid of the smell. The butter topping must have melded to the polyester fibers. I actually was kind of proud that I looked so cute in my uniform as dorky as it was.
It was then working at the movie theatres that I finally noticed that boys were beginning to notice me. It was there that I met Reese. We didn't wear the same uniform. When I first saw him he had already graduated from dorkness to a semi-professional polyester bound business suit as an assistant manager. Reese was older, 17 or 18 I think. It was the epitome of love at first sight, on his part any ways. For me, I couldn't help wondering what the hell he was staring at? Then my friend Susan clued me in and said,

“He was staring at you idiot!”

I really knew all along but when he passed the concession counter heading towards the projection room, whilst his eyes were locked on mine, I honestly thought I had imagined it. No boy or young man had ever made his intentions to me so clear without ever saying a word. And boy was I naive.

My best friend Susan was adorable, from the 5th grade on she was a heart breaker and I only ever felt tall and awkward. By 16 with no love interests other than silent, unmentioned, unnoticed crushes at school, my steady experience with teenage dating was zilch. Except of course for what I witnessed vicariously, being friends with Susan, I had excused myself to the back of the shelf and fantasized about being the THE UGLY DUCKLING.

When Reese’s eyes first locked mine and then he faintly smiled and shyly turned his head back towards the direction he had been walking, I began to understand the life of the swans...

About Creativity...

The following link is a very funny lecture called "On Genius" given by Elizabeth Gilbert, the New York Times Best Selling author of Eat, Pray, Love.

The lecture was given at TED. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, Design. It started out (in 1984) as a conference bringing together people from those three worlds. In this lecture, which is quite entertaining, Elizabeth Gilbert explores what it is to be creative and the struggle to remain creative whether you write, paint or throw pottery.

I hope this video inspires you to start working on a new creative project or get back to an old one as it has inspired me to keep working on my own. Enjoy.

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

Summer Movie Watching

Last night I watched "Marley & Me" and I was blown away. Yes, blown away.

Several friends had said "Marley & Me" was rated B for "Boo Hoo" and they couldn't bear to watch it or were angry that they got sucked into a comedy about a cute mischievous dog that ended up pulling on their heartstrings in a NOT so gentle way. I almost didn't see the movie at all, I read some of the book but got distracted with my writing projects and never picked it up again. Influenced by my friends and newspaper reviews I almost didn't even rent it. What a mistake that would have been. This is a great movie about the human condition and I could not disagree more with my Friends who said avoid it because it will make you cry and rip your heart out especially if you are a pet owner.

Why? Why avoid a movie that rips your heart out and makes you really look out what it means to love, to be human? Did I cry like a baby? Pretty close. With my Westie Cassie sleeping on the couch beside me I watched the story of a big yellow dog and the impression he made on the life of a writer, his wife and eventually their kids. It was beautiful. I started to wonder if some of us avoid this stuff (these movies or books) for some twisted sense of self preservation? But if you are hiding out from these tear jerkers like "Old Yeller", "Beaches" and "Marley & Me", you are hiding out from life. These movies depicting the pure joy and tragedy in our lives should not be ignored, they should be consumed, they teach us how to relate to one another, how to live in the moment and cherish the bitter and the sweet. Thank God someone knows how to capture this essence of life and bring it into our lives, our homes and our hearts even if it is through the television!

If you are a visual learner of life rent "Marley & Me" this summer and enjoy the ride.

We only go once around...

Work in Progress:

A Dark Place of Promise is a novel coming soon from Jennifer Beichner

My current project is a novel called “A Dark Place of Promise” and is about two sisters who are orphaned during the U.S. Civil War after their parents are murdered for spying for the Confederacy. The story is set in Georgia, just before Sherman’s march to the sea. Sisters Rebecca and Sarah must attempt to locate their estranged Uncle, a Captain in the Union Army and find help to make it North to safety before their parents assassin catches up to them.

I am currently editing this book and of course always doing research. I hope to be working with a professional editor my the end of the year.

I have also begun to revisie my manuscript “The Sister Within” from novel format to non-fiction. This one is very close to my heart, my opus, the reason I write but more on that one another time…until then, write on.-JB