Before I write my blog post again, let me tell you what happened. I've started to use the AVG secure browser because it's lightning quick. I love it. I also use Grammarly with everything because I type so fast that I tend to leave out entire words! I've even typed words backward before. I have no clue how this happens other than my hands know the keyboard better than I do and they like to pull pranks. Moving on.
So I wasn't sure if I could install Grammarly to my extensions in the AVG browser and decided to simply go to the Grammarly website and type there. Unfortunately, I wasn't logged into my account and when I clicked the green button to check my grammar, I lost my entire post. This was an idiot move. Believe me, I know. I don't know what possessed me to do such a thing. Why didn't I simply open Word? And so, I must now do my best to remember what it was I had blogged about in the first place. Is this funny? Sort of. Am I laughing? Not yet. The wounds are still fresh. Give me a day.
A lot of what I rambled on about in my original post was book writing and finishing things. My mother said on more than one occasion that I never finish anything. But, I do now. I've finished and published a novel called Sonshine Girls: Summer Secret. That was to be book one of a ten-book series. How did that happen for someone who was deemed lazy and failed to finish things? Let me tell you a story. You see, I have two really brilliant and beautiful friends, Lori and Tiffany, who believed in me when I thought my stories were just silly...they were just stories. "You should write a book!" Lori used numerous exclamation points as she stated this.
I brushed her off for years and I can't exactly pinpoint when or why she decided that I should write a book. Was I telling a lot of weird little stories in our daily emails that could sometimes add up to a number in the hundreds especially since Tiffany was part of our emailing trio? At any rate, I started to write. Now, initially, the book was to be about teens and it was going to be a horror novel. There's something about me that loves to read horror, but I'm not very good at writing it. As that book began to develop, the characters began to drift off to church. Oh, come on, guys! Anywhere but church.
If you've ever read Proverbs 22:6 that says, "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it," then let me tell you that those words are true! I couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried to force those four girls into a novel of horror, they wanted to plan fundraisers and head to church camp. So be it. I've been called to write but not for my glory, for God's. There it is, I've said it. I write Christian fiction. I am a writer. I am a Christian and it oozes out into my writing. And, it makes me smile.
I never had much faith in myself and decided to finish up the book after many times of sharing it back and forth between Lori and Tiffany. They really kept me going because they always wanted to read the next chapter. It's good to have friends like this. I was also in an excellent writer's group at the time called Razor's Edge Writers. Ellen Hopkins was in that group and I thought that was simply amazing. I decided to upload Sonshine Girls: Summer Secret to some online e-book place I found. I can't even remember the name of the site now. And then, something amazing happened.
I had simply slapped a weird Photo-Shopped picture of my daughter onto the cover of the book and waited to see if anyone would read it. Oddly enough, it was only up for a week or so when I got an email from a small publisher. He said that he was looking around the site for books that were like his daughter's books. He said that he read my description and a little bit more and that the would like to publish me. And so I took Sonshine Girls down from that site and began a long and tedious process of editing it. And suddenly, it was December 13, 2008, and I had a box of beautiful books sitting on my kitchen table. I had book signings lined up and found myself in a world I could only dream of. A small world, but still, it was pretty cool.
Sadly, he moved on to other things and turned his company over to someone who refused to answer the phone. On December 13, 2018, my book was no longer available to purchase. I've done some searches and it still comes up. If you want to see it, search Sonshine Girls: Summer Secret by Rene Morris. It's kind of sad but I've moved on. I toyed with the idea of publishing it myself but have decided to leave it in the past. I've lost the other two manuscripts anyway. Thankfully, I have a copy sitting right in front of me.
So I will get back to my point as I watch the rabbit I was chasing make its way down the trail that I wasn't supposed to go but did because that's how my mind functions. I'll take a deep breath here because that was a long sentence. It reminded me of the paragraph my son wrote recently using zero punctuation. I read it out loud to him and sounded like a robot. In the end, I was gasping for air. Side note, punctuation matters, Joshua.
Onward now. So I mentioned in my blog title a new book idea. It happened like it always does...when I least expect it. I was driving Joshua (#6) to his little summer job of feeding a friend's dog. We passed a house that didn't look as nice as the others around it. Of course, this is when my mind takes over and says things like, "That could be a cool story!" Yes, a cool story that teaches the value of understanding and loving others even when their outside might not match their inside. And, of course, I had to blurt out, "I just got a new book idea!" Joshua seemed mildly interested.
But in my mind, I could already see my main character sitting on his (or her) bike, leaning like you have to do when you're sitting still. Just staring at that old house. And then, the door opens and the adventure begins and hopefully, after about 100,000 words, it will end in a way that no one ever saw coming. Book number seven, people. Book number Seven. The title that jumped in my head was Who Lives In That House? I don't like it but, it gives the manuscript a name and that is good enough for me. Sonshine Girls didn't have a title until the last page or so. And then, they named themselves.
I've learned that my writing process follows that of a discovery writer. I wouldn't have it any other way and love to tell people that I write by the seat of my pants, dragged down the path that adventures into the world that my characters create and allow me to visit. I would like to thank all of those voices in my head. I love you. Ahem...
So I also mentioned CBHD. Those letters stand for Cheaper By the Half Dozen and I've mentioned it in a previous blog post. But, in case you've missed it and you're not like me and won't start from the beginning of someone's blog and move to the most recent post because you're a nerd like that and don't want to miss anything, it was my blog back when my kids were much younger. Why did I ever delete it? Why? Why are creative people so quick to act? We can be impulsive and blundering fools. And since I deleted it so many years ago and can't recover it, I've dug out a notebook given to me by Collin (#1) and I'm jotting down ideas for blogging as I think of them. And one idea was about Brandon (#2).
When Brandon was just five years old, he became quite angry with me and I don't even remember why. He is 27 now so it's been a minute or more. He packed his little suitcase and stood boldly by the front door. "I'm moving to Wendy's!" Now Wendy was a good friend who lived just a couple streets over. These were college days and we lived in a little mobile home community. If all mobile home communities could be like that one, it would be nice. But I digress. Rabbits tempt me too often as I've mentioned before.
You see, Collin (#1) was a happy-go-lucky kid who only got in trouble when his whimsical ways led to some sort of injury. Let me put a pin right here and visit this later. Pardon me while I jot this down in my notebook. Brandon, however, was the opposite and those two clashed on more than one occasion. And as Collin sat happily on the couch waiting to watch Gumby and Pokey, Brandon was seething. And I knew that if I over-reacted, this situation could get ugly. I took a deep breath and looked at him just as defiantly as he looked at me. "I'll let her know you're on your way."
And just like that, his little feet were out the door and headed down the driveway. I did as I promised and called Wendy. "I'm just letting you know that Brandon has packed and is moving out to live with you." Silence for about half a second on the other end left me wondering what Wendy would say.
"Well, okay. I'll make sure he has plenty to do!" After a few more seconds on the phone, Wendy lets me know that Brandon has arrived, blue and red little suitcase in hand. I must also mention that his suitcase was loaded with toys and not clothing. And at five years of age, I refrained from the "You'll leave with just the clothes on your back" speech.
Brandon didn't live long with Wendy and soon she was calling to let me know that he was headed home. All of this happened in about fifteen minutes. "He didn't like my idea of the chores list I made for him." At the time, Wendy was still in school at Sam Houston State University learning all about tiny people and how to teach them. I am quite sure she is still one of the best teachers out there to this day. Thank you, Wendy.
And as I watched the knob turn on the front door and Brandon shuffle inside, I knew that there would most likely be many more of these moments. Even at five years old, Brandon was simply a determined soul that would never be a follower. He questioned way too much.
"So you want to move back in?" I waited for him to respond. Brandon didn't stand as most kids would with his eyes to the floor. Brandon still felt that he had been jilted somehow. But he had made a choice between two evils. Evil Mom or Evil Miss Wendy. He chose the house with the fewest chores. That's all. And it was at this moment that knew I needed to take a stand. "I'll think about it. Take your suitcase to your old room because I just cleaned out here."
This wasn't easy to do, to be the mean mom. Brandon was cute. I mean, really cute. I don't care how big and bad he thought he was, he was a tiny five-year-old with almond-shaped brown eyes and dusty blond hair. He was way too cute for his disposition. But, our children's dispositions are what make them who they are and we as parents have to learn our way around them. I wanted Brandon to always be Brandon. Determined, head-strong Brandon.
I gave him a few minutes and then went to talk to him. His suitcase was empty having been discarded at the foot of his bed and his previously packed toys were all over the floor. "I want you to stay and I'm glad you came home." His little feet dangled from his toddler bed as he shifted to face me. If I wanted to hug him, I'd have to take the hug. Take it...they were never given freely. And never given to a mean mom. Unfortunately for Brandon, Miss Wendy had turned out to be equally mean and I was his only choice. I think Brandon is this way because of me. I think he thought I wouldn't love him anymore. He had messed up too bad. I'm like this. I always think that I've burned a bridge and there is no crossing it again.
And so I did what I know I would have needed when I was five. I scooped him up and kissed his whole face. He protested but his giggles betrayed him. I'm glad he decided to move back in and I didn't have to actually go to Wendy's house and drag him home. And that matters because if Wendy would have coddled him he would have stayed. But she did what she hoped someone would do for her, she became the greater of two evils. She sacrificed herself for a friend and for that, I've forever grateful.
And Brandon learned that day that Mom is in control. But, Mom loves him no matter what. And from that day forward, he could be testy and he would question and he would see how far he could go. But, for the most part, all I ever had to do was give him that look. The one that said, "Boy, you're pushing it too far." And, he's given me a lot of blog material over the years. At the end of the day, I wouldn't change one thing about anything in his growing up years because those are the years that made one over-used saying very true. You'll laugh about this one day. And we have.
