My goals

I was thinking this morning as I threw balls for the dog outside (this seems to be my new purpose in life, now that diaper-changes and bottles are things of the past), about my recent writing hiatus and what I really want to do with this novel.

First of all, I think I need a new title. I've no idea what, but I always knew the current one was a little lame. Titles are not my forte.

More importantly, I want a book that both men and women will enjoy reading. My girlfriends love what they've read so far; my husband hates it. I don't expect him to like anything that doesn't have firearms in it, but he did have some interesting feedback. I recently came across a statistic that only 20% of fiction is read by men, which makes me feel a little better about catering to the female crowd.

Since I've decided to alternate points of view between the hero and heroine, I want a very clear, consistent voice for both of them. One of the things I want to highlight is how very differently these two people perceive what is happening around them, and the personal barriers they must overcome to get together in the end.

This means overcoming my fear of emotion. I am so paranoid about making the book sound like a romance novel that I've shied away from the more intense passages. Perhaps that's why Tolkein made his heroes confirmed bachelors. It's hard to make the brave adventurer seem studly while he's secretly torn up inside by his feelings for the lovely maiden. But that's something both Faldur and I will have to overcome.

Faldur: Character of the Week

The hero of my work in progress, Faldur, has been selected as Character of the Week over at Come In Character. Tune in on Friday to meet Faldur and take part in the discussion at CIC.

He's not looking forward to it, because he doesn't care much for being the center of attention, but he can't refuse a request from a lady, especially sweet, kindly Mrs. Fettleston - last week's character - who chose him for the job. So he will do his best to rise to the occasion and do his duty faithfully, as always.

I wonder what the other characters have in store for him? Should be interesting!

Do people look like their dogs?

My blogging friend Mira asked whether characters resemble their authors. I don't know the answer, but I do believe dogs resemble their owners. Why? I think that people tend to choose pets that somehow look friendly or familiar, and unconsciously choose ones that resemble their own face in the mirror. Just my totally unscientific opinion, here.

For example, here are me and Teddy. Not that similar in hairiness, but we're both pretty pale and there's something about the eyes...

Listen to the Rain

We are having a soft, rainy day here. I love these kinds of days! I took the dog for a long walk in the rain yesterday, and today I'll be bustling around getting ready for my mother's visit this weekend.

Happy Friday, everyone!

The Idea for My Novel

The one comfort I have is that I think my story idea is pretty good. It grew out of a conversation a friend and I had about the deplorable lack of female perspective in The Lord of the Rings. It started out as just a fun writing exercise, with her and myself as the main characters, and grew into a complete fantasy world entirely distinct from Tolkein's, with its own language, culture and history.

I tell people it's "an adventure story from the girls' point of view, but I wanted them to retain their femininity, so I threw in some guys to do the fighting and found myself getting into their heads, too." So now it's told in alternating chapters from the hero's and heroine's points of view.

Gotta get back to writing that thing.

Another Query

Here is the latest, trimmed down version of the query letter. Ack!
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Sometimes, the aftermath of peace is war.

Things are back to normal in Belhanor after a violent civil war... or are they? The traitors were beheaded and their families dispossessed, but now some of those same families are plotting to seize back their land. They call themselves the Restorationists, and are working throughout the kingdom in a surprisingly organized fashion. Who is directing them? Could it be the King’s own son, who disappeared five years ago? Or could the King’s nemesis, Lord Synedd, be using them to try to seize the throne a second time?

It’s up to Faldur, a captain of the Rangers, to find out. When he and the remaining Prince discover a Restorationist plot which threatens the Prince’s bride-to-be, Faldur is given the task of escorting her safely to the capital. Accompanying them is the bride’s cousin Marenya. Her father, Faldur’s mentor, was killed in the course of duty and his death made Faldur vow never to leave anyone behind. In spite of this (or perhaps because of it) he is drawn to her, and she to him.

After narrowly escaping a surprise attack, Marenya takes her cousin's place as decoy. One of Faldur’s own men then betrays them and she is taken hostage. Soon both Faldur and Marenya realize that someone is using the Restorationists as a front for the real plot to murder the prince and overthrow the king. Marenya must navigate through a series of dangers for which she is completely unprepared, while Faldur is obliged to complete his mission before he can attempt to find her. In the process, he battles not only their enemies, but his own ideas about love and loss.

THE GOLDEN GRYPHON is a fantasy in 100,000 words aimed at the same teen/adult audience that enjoys other traditional fantasy. One reader has described it as having a "bottom of the forest floor, Tolkein-like feeling." The story explores how love and loyalty can pull us apart as well as draw us together, and how truth is essential in combating evil.

Christine Hardy is a writer and college math instructor. This will (hopefully) be her first published work.

The Wondrous Gift

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his Heaven

These lyrics came to mind this morning as I was reflecting and praying. Lest I sound overly spiritual, I must say that I don't make time for these activities nearly as often as I should. Zeke woke me up at 4 a.m., so he gets the credit today.

Yesterday during the Pentecost service at church, the Holy Spirit blessed me with the wondrous gift of His presence and comfort. I am ashamed of myself when I think how often I doubt His loving care and His willingness to reassure me, and how easily worried and distracted I am. Like St. Teresa's image of the soul in her book Interior Castle, I seem to spend way too much time in the outer courtyard getting stung and bitten by the creatures of this world, rather than in the holy Presence of God in the innermost rooms. (Unlike Teresa, however, I cannot shun the world to seek His Presence. Becoming a Carmelite nun seems quite tempting at times. However, I fear it is too late.)

My point is that the Holy Spirit makes himself known in a silence that is overwhelming in its profundity. The still, small voice is voiceless - and yet perfectly clear. Jesus said "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them and they follow me." John 10:27. It takes a while to cultivate this type of hearing, and I admit to being confused and misled many times in my younger days, but now there is nothing sweeter or clearer than the voice of my Lord speaking to me, as he must have spoken to Mary in the garden.

What He said was "Don't worry! I will tell you when it's time to go back to work. I know that you are obedient. Don't worry. I hold you in my hand, and won't let you fall." He said this not once but over and over for several minutes, knowing that I need confirmation and absolute reassurance that it is truly His Spirit and not mine speaking.

Kind of like the Star Wars clone troopers sending a repeating "All Clear" signal to the Republic fleet in the story Jeff and I are currently reading. See? And you thought Star Wars was unspiritual.

I have been told many times by concerned, loving Christians, "You shouldn't worry about money! God has promised to provide, so you are displaying a lack of faith." But they are missing the point. I do not doubt that my family and I will always have food to eat and a roof over our heads; if the absolute worst happened and we became penniless, my parents still own the large house I grew up in and have a garden where we could grow food.

The point is that, as a Christian, I am responsible for how I use the time, resources and talent God has given me. It is not a question of having money, but of how to use the money we have in the wisest manner. Was it wise to get a dog now? I believe with all my heart that it was. Is it wise for me to commit to a full-time job at this time? Apparently not yet. Is it wise to focus on finishing the book instead? Perhaps I should.

I think one of the reasons I've been feeling so discouraged is that I allowed myself to hope that just maybe I could have the life I really want, being a mom and a teacher and a writer. That perhaps this was God's will for me and I could relax, finally, and just do it. I thought that was the case, and then all this happened and ruined it for me. But I also know that God disciplines those he loves and that I needed some discipline.

So, it's 5:38 and I am going to try to work on my book a little before it's time to get Jeff up for school.

Zeke, of course, has gone back to sleep.