Thoughts Leading to a Book or Story

I'm inspired to write a quick note, both to help me not lose/forget my current inspiration, and to lay down the foundation for what I want it to be.

I've been reading and enjoying Chuck Klosterman's book "Killing Yourself to Live" recently, and I noticed that the most popular quote from the book by far is as follows -

"We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It's easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven't even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."

I love Chuck Klosterman's insight into human nature, but he always leaves me feeling a little melancholy. But up until last night I didn't know how to counter a statement like this. And now I think I do.

I think as a Christian, there is a call to turn this statement on its head. Because Chuck Klosterman is right - this is completely true, if you make any other human being your definition of what love is, they are going to fail you, and in a sense they win and you lose - but that doesn't mean there's no way out of this. And the challenge presented here as a Christian is to acknowledge this, and to instead put God in the place of that person who sets the template about how you love other people.

Easier said than done, right? Because if the Christian belief of God is true, then here is how God defines love - He gave His only son to die on the cross for our sins, "while we were still his enemies" as Romans says, in order that all of us could choose to be saved and return to Him. And He did this knowing that many of us would still choose to turn away from Him, ignore Him, or refuse to ask Him into our life.

In other words, God's definition of love is unconditional. It does not depend on what the other person decides, how the other person acts, etc. The same offer stands, regardless of how we respond, for every single one of us, no exceptions. And that is mind blowing.

And that, is what my book or story that I have started to create, is going to explore.

I've needed to write this story for a long time, but didn't know how. I didn't even know until last night when it hit me like a freight train, what it was I would want it to be about. I just knew I had to write something, someday, that really mattered. The books and such I've written thus far may have briefly touched on important issues, but mostly they were amusements, things I wrote for myself.

Now I'm going to write completely for others. Because I really have come to the conviction that by doing that, I can best serve God. If I can write something that enables other people to better understand even one iota of the way that God loves us through Christ, than I will have written something worth leaving behind. Jesus said, "As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Have I done this well in the past? Certainly not. All the relationships I have lamented and been nostalgic over that have failed, did so because I was unwilling to love unconditionally when others behaved in ways that upset me. I let their behavior dictate how I would love them. I apologize to anyone who has received this type of treatment from me over the years. It is not what you deserved from me.

Because that's not the way God loves us! I have learned so much about unconditional love this past year, especially through my amazing husband. We are neither of us perfect, but as long as we devote ourselves to this ideal as best we can, I see our marriage continue to flourish, even through horrible trials and grievous losses.

I know I'm gonna keep falling and having to pick myself up, and continuing to ask for God's Grace to cover my mistakes. That's a huge part of being a Christian. But knowing that, I can commit to trying this to the best of my ability, and still commit myself to living what I believe.

Because it's only by living it that I will be able to write it. And I'm ready to live it now to the fullest of my ability.

God willing, I will come up with something in the end, through this all, that is really worth reading. No matter how many years it takes.

So for now I will just say thank you to everyone who has helped me get to this point - to all the friends who loved me when I didn't deserve to be loved, and to all the ones who continue to do so. Thank you for the countless individuals who inspired me, and who I know will keep doing it! When I look around me, I see how truly, truly blessed I have been in family, in friends, and in love. And I am confidant that however this turns out, God will continue to bless me so far beyond what I deserve.

So here goes something!!!

And I pray that I will not fall prey to the temptation that C.S. Lewis warned about in "The Great Divorce," the same temptation that has been pulling against me all my life as a writer -

"Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him."

God willing, that will not be my fate!

Re-Written Psalm

I am taking a marriage class through church this month, and one of our assignments was to re-write one of God's Psalms of protection. I am by no means a Psalmist, but thought I would share all the same, as this one has really brought me comfort -

Psalm 4 (in my own words)

Respond to me when I cry out,

Worthy Lord.

Provide safety from my grief;

Show me your mercy and answer my prayers.

How long will others profit at my misfortune,

And love the hollow things of the world?

God has set apart what is Holy for himself;

Do not let your anger trip you up,

At night know your heart, quietly.

Trust the Lord and give Him what is His,

Many want to know where good can possibly arise?

Let God's light shine upon our countenances,

You have fulfilled me with more happiness,

Than anything on Earth can.

I will rest easy at night,

For you alone, O Lord,

Give me peace and protection.

Nostalgia: What is it good for?

I find myself increasingly frustrated with nostalgia as I get older.

I am particularly susceptible to nostalgia, especially as I age. And why? What good does it do?

Maybe I am just overly cynical today. But I started thinking this yesterday and don't have a satisfactory answer, yet. Because the majority of people I am most nostalgic about, (thankfully there are a few exceptions) I cannot say with any amount of confidence that I am the least bit close to any longer. And these friendships I have tried to maintain as best I can, without bordering on stalker tendencies or overstepping my bounds as a wife, only to have to give them up for lost. At best, I am left at least with casual acquaintances, nothing more.

Not that there is anything wrong with casual acquaintances, either. Normally, I don't object to them. Everyone needs them. They make life pleasant. But when a large majority of those "acquaintances" are people you used to have deep and meaningful friendships with, it seems cheapened, somehow.

And this is hard on me. My heart seems to be such that, once a real bond is formed, I do not want to let that go at any cost. And yet if that is what the other person wants after months or years, what can I do?

I suspect this has something to do with the fact that God created me as an eternal being. Also that he made me relational. In Heaven, I suspect that this will all make much more sense, and that better yet, I will be able to love people exactly as I should, without any of my blasted selfishness and absurdities clogging things up. Someday, I suspect I will be able to do this all right and as intended. I know God didn't make my heart this way by accident.

But in the meantime, it's frustrating. One can't live on happy memories. One can't bask in the glow of reminiscence all day. I can channel the best of it into my writings and my novels, but in the end what am I really left with other than good stories?

Don't get me wrong. I have many wonderful friendships. I am not truly lonely.

But it seems the best way me and the people I know determine to get on in life, is by very formal, structured relationships. Labels, proprieties, etc. all have to be in their proper place. At times this is hard for my impulsive, passionate, and deliberate nature.

So I stumble along as best I can. Better to do that then upset, offend, or bother people, I guess.

I'll keep waiting for "someday" in the meanwhile. Keep writing, try not to let it bother me in the long run, and don't regret. Better to have had for a little while than not at all. I have been blessed in my friendships, whatever their duration.

Living in Jane Austen's Footsteps

Random thought today that I wanted to get down on "paper."

My life (or rather the people I've encountered) can be looked at through the lens of Austen. I have encountered versions of her characters here in the 21st Century. Let me explain.

My first serious boyfriend was a Captain Benwick. Passionate, fond of literature and art, and storming away about his love for me. Thankfully I realized several weeks in that we would be better off in the long run as friends. While that took some difficult arranging, a rough breakup and several months to heal later, we had one of the best friendships it was my pleasure to experience in high school.

My next boyfriend...ah, that is a bit harder. I don't think he was a cad; not a rake or rattle by Austen's definition. Of course we fought and horribly so, but in the end I would describe us as two people with divergent personalities that just weren't meant to be. Let us say Mrs. and Mr. Palmer. The initial attractions that brought us together were not lasting enough to form a permanent union, (and thankfully we at least avoided the folly of marrying.) Most of our personality traits grated on each other horribly, and though I tried to put a good face on it all, in the end we were too different to ever be truly happy together. And at 16, I was rather a laughing idiot at times.

I personally met in high school a Wickam/Willoughby. Though never romantically interested in him myself, (thank God) I watched him over the years break his share of hearts and cause more than his share of scandal. He had a talent to deceive right off the bat, and made you both endeared with him and usually making the mistake of trusting him instantly. He also managed to impregnate then leave a girl at least once, without much in the way of responsibility. Luckily, his actions showed him to be a rake, but to this day, (1o years later) there are still people who are deceived by him, (I myself fell prey to this defect for awhile, and much like Lizzy Bennett had to admit with great embarrassment how I had been wrong, then do my best to stay on my guard from him going forward.) and who will still defend him against accusations of his crimes. Such is life.

In the ways of the heart, I started out a Marianne who learned from experience and bad choices to become an Elinor, (see previous post on Marianna versus Elinor for a more in depth explanation) and eventually trust my head more than my heart. I flirted with someone who was somewhat a Frank Churchill; he seemed interested in me for awhile, but really he was somewhat secretly in love with another, and eventually my pride was wounded in his choosing to no longer pay his attentions to me. And like Emma, I have done a poor job in matchmaking for some of my friends, (sorry Justin and Claire!) and had to learn the hard way to let these things be, and work themselves out.

My mother is rather like Catherine Moreland's; good, moral, and eager for me to have a righteous turn of mind. My father I loved as Elizabeth Bennett loved and was closest to hers, though he is probably more a Sir John Middleton, ornery and yet a man's man in his way. I have silly younger sisters that I love, just as Elinor and Lizzy both did. And finally, I married a Mr. Bingley, though I have nowhere near the love and goodness of a Jane. As a writer I merely hope to be as clever as her sister Elizabeth someday. ;-)

My friend Amanda reminds me of Anne Elliot's friend Mrs. Smith, (without the destitution) with her wise ways and observations; a much better judge of character than my often reckless self. My friend Betsy is very much a Charlotte Lucas, unceasingly practical and quietly loving, (and occasionally cynically clever.) And my husband's friend Morgan reminds me ever so much of Robert Ferris; for he is convinced he knows everything and always does things the best way; and is the expert over everyone on any subject that comes to hand. (I am sure Robert, had he lived in this day and age, would leave annoying messages on people's Facebook pages with his opinion on everyone's statuses, taking care to always correct any 'wrong' statement he came across in his perusing.) My friend Kari is a true Jane with her goodness and ability to believe the best in people. And I personally was friends with an Isabella Thorpe from Middle School up through high school. I wish I had been able to wise up to that as fast as Catherine Moreland had!

I guess what caused me to think of all this in the first place was how different Jane Austen novels were mentioned or had parallels in my novels. My main character also marries a Mr. Bingley type, (not a coincidence) my secondary heroine wants a Mr. Darcy for herself, but in the end picks a Mr. Tilney instead, (after dating a Mr. Brandon/Darcy hybrid.) I think the main point is that many of the human observations about society that Jane Austen made in her novels, still remain, in essence, true about people today. Individuals do change, but I think their inherent nature and types are destined to repeat again and again. The question is whether we can still recognize them as the cultural particulars continue to be the only variation.

Or maybe I just read too much into things.

Myself Or Someone Like Me

Hard to believe I haven't posted in almost a year! Though admittedly a lot has happened to keep me busy. First we lost Steve's mother, then his Grandmother fell and broke her hip and had a long battle with recovery, before we finally ended up losing her as well to a stroke. Then I quit my job to keep the stress from killing me, (I had chest pains from the constant anxiety and was literally losing my hair at one point) and to give me more time for family and church. I finished the majority of book 4 and started a book 5 in "choose your own adventure" fashion. This past year has been both the most challenging, and the most maturing of my life. It amazes me how much God can grow us through trials!

But I came on a realization the other day about my books that I wanted to get down into words. Originally I thought Roxy was an idealized version of what I would like to be, (my super ego, if you will) and while I still believe that is somewhat true, it occurred to me that she was initially inspired by someone very real in my life. Before I ever watched an episode of "Castle," (or indeed before it was even created as a show) and had the glorious Stana Katic as Kate Beckett continue to feed my ideas of what Roxy should be, the heart of my gorgeous super spy heroine was created much farther back. Roxy was originally inspired by the most competent, capable, (not to mention beautiful) and strong human being I know: my cousin Andrea.

Andrea was the person I wanted to be when I was a teenager. Despite a messed-up family situation with crazy separated parents, she was talented without being arrogant, beautiful without being vain, and mature without being insane. Andrea's life, despite the turbulent forces around her, always portrayed confidence, ability, and control.

Now my cousin Andrea is as gorgeous as ever and has three small children (twin boys and a fearless little girl.) She has an excellent husband and a marriage founded on the Lord. I still look up to her (though I wouldn't trade places with her for anything, anymore) We are both amazed at how wonderful our lives have worked out, (I never would have thought at 16 that I would have a gorgeous and amazing husband like Steve, or have gained something resembling confidence in my own looks and abilities.)

So Roxy is really not me. She has some of the same likes and dislikes, opinions and ideologies I do, but she is really Andrea turned into a super heroine.

So which character in book IS actually me? It shouldn't be that hard to guess.

I am at heart, and always will be, Larissa.

The writer.

How Much of My Taste in Music is Really My Own?

I am slowly coming to the somewhat melancholy conclusion that almost all of my taste in music (both the things I am proud to like and many of the things I am less proud to enjoy) can be attributed to someone else in my life (and the nostalgia I have for them and our shared memories) instead of to my own personal taste or discretion.

For example. I enjoy Swing Revival music (Brian Setzer, Cherry Popping Daddies, and Big Bad Voo Doo Daddies, etc.) because of my father. Also, David Bowie, Paula Abdul, and Gloria Estefan. And were it not for my mother, I wouldn't appreciate "oldies," (The Eagles, the Beatles, etc.) Kenny Loggins, or the unique Canadian sounds of Ian Thomas.

Were it not for my best friend growing up, Mel, I would not like Third Eye Blind or Cake. She also reinforced the Swing Revival (her and Maria actually teaching me how to do some basic swing dance moves)

Speaking of Maria, that accounts for weird Christian ska and swing (Five Iron Frenzy and the W's) Also, Sailor Moon music, but let's not get into that...

Which then reminds me of Ben. Let's face it, because of those two and a half years of my life, I now enjoy everything from Jimmy Hendrix and Zeppelin, to Nirvana and Offspring. Also Christian rock/rap like DC talk, guitar ballads like Jars of Clay and Shaded Red, and pretty much any Praise Song I happen to enjoy. (Two and a half years with someone can really open up an entire world of music)

Aerosmith because of Jason, (darn you.)

And of course I wouldn't enjoy classic and alternative rock like Rush, Kiss, Deep Purple, Judas Priest, Kansas, America (I still hear him singing the "la las" whenever I play this song) Freezepop (I guess they are really techno, so we'll let them be the segue) Wolfmother, Blue Oyster Cult and Bang Camero, were it not for my crazy best friend Justin (nor would I own a wireless Guitar Hero controller or jump around on the couch while playing said guitar)

Which gets me started on my husband and all the alt rock too countless to name: White Stripes, Weezer, Blur, Strokes, Okay, Go etc. etc. He introduced me to the local alternative rock station, so pretty much anything I heard there and liked can be attributed to him. And of course, the oh-so-amazing Amanda Palmer and the Dresden Dolls.

My sister Holly for German Techno.

Michael Buble and Robby Williams because of my sister Valerie. I think I blame her for Ewan MacGregor and Moulin Rouge, too (and, of course, Kate's part in that...)

My childhood friend Kristal May for Andrew Lloyd Weber - "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" and "Phantom of the Opera," (but not Cats. Still too weird!) Also, the Spice Girls and Celine Dion.

Claire for Matchbox 20.

Professor Gilliand (Bart) for Carmina Burana and the song "Almost Like Being in Love" (and a blinding hatred for the song "S'Wonderful")

I'm not sure who to blame for why I hate "Rent" so much. Too many people to count.

Stephanie Meyer got me listening to Muse, because they were listed as her "muse" when she writes.

Sam Brownson's incredible indy type music is very popular on my iPod, but I never would have known it, had not his brother Ben introduced it to me in conjunction with his own plays he writes.

While I appreciate the versatility this gives my apparent taste in music, it leaves me wondering what is left to truly be attributed to "my" own feelings and opinions?

Well, there is the Goo Goo Dolls, hands down, no question. That's not so bad. Possibly Sugar Ray as well. And Oleander (which no one else seems to like.) I can probably get away with that, unscathed. Also the album "Viva La Vida," (most favorite song in the world now is the one of the same name) which is particularly amusing because, before that, I hated Coldplay and thought they were completely overrated and needed better instrumentation and thought to their song lyrics. Imagine how surprised I was when it seemed they took my suggestions without ever hearing me give them.

Of course there's also N'Sync, 98 degrees, Five, and other lesser boy bands. And let's not forget Ricky Martin, (which I loved despite my embarrassment.) Though I am proud to say that I truly liked them because of their music (which, yes, I still enjoy) and never just because I wanted to marry one of them, (my celebrity crushes never actually included any of them.)

Christina Aguilera and Gwen Stefani were also a conscious choice, because I loved women who could really sing.

So what does that leave me with? The only two things I can really be proud of: Classical Music (Beethoven, Dvorak, Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky being the leaders, Mahler being the strongest exception, because his 2 hour long symphony I had to sit through was total crap) and my one rare find, the Arrogant Worms (A Canandian folk/comedy group who are all individually very talented musicians.) When I try to single out what is purely "my taste," this is all I can think of that isn't completely connected to some other person.

And I guess that's all okay. That's kinda what we are as human beings; an amalgamation of experiences: a few that are purely our own and the rest that involve mostly other people. And that's normal.

But man, it makes me seem so uncool.

Things I Will Never Tell My Closest Friends

This may be a bit stream of consciousness; here is the idea.

The following are things I might think or feel in a moment, but could/would never say to someone I really care about, both because they sound psycho, and because those feelings don't last. Also, most of them expose a problem with me, and why I constantly need to be working on putting my identity firmly in God, the only person who can never fail me. And they are pretty weird/disturbing/creepy/or overwhelming feelings. I am so glad they pass and are not constant.

Your conjectures are your own. I will not confirm whether I ever thought this about you personally or not, and you may even be combined with one or more other people. Enjoy =)

Thing 1

"I am emotionally obsessed with you. I completely over-focus on the things we have in common, or the delightful things you make me think. In this moment I feel you are a kindred spirit who I never want to be separated from. My love for your thoughts, ideas, and words cloud my brain, much the way pressure in my sinuses makes my head feel fuzzy (I know a lot about this as it is my most frequent state of being). I want to uncover every shared experience or area between us, and also discover all the delightful ways it is possible to enjoy disagreeing with you. I crave your conversation and want to talk to you until I literally run out of things to say. You always leave too soon or end our talks before I am ready. When you are gone, there is a hole where you should be. I don't understand why, and I hate that I feel this way and yet can't change it. Best to smother and ignore it. You make me feel like an emotional addict, and that's disturbing. I can only focus on my mental passions and what stirs my soul, when I am around you. Having to go back to the real world irks and disappointments me."

God help me, I am an emotional stalker.

Thing 2
"I feel crushingly plain next to you. You are gorgeous and beautiful, and I am horribly self-conscious of how I must look by your side. And yet, to be with you is a constant delight. I enjoy looking at you, having others see me with you, and noticing all the different ways both your perfections and imperfections delight me. My mind is disturbingly focused on physical attributes, qualities, and attractions. I can positively say I platonically and absolutely see how anyone could be sexually attracted to you, even though that makes no sense. I want to touch your hair, snuggle into your side, or just stare into your eyes until I get bored of those sensations. Anytime you touch or recognize me makes me jump with excitement, though I would never want you to see evidence of this. And I have a crushing fear you think or feel none of these things about me."

Apparently, I am completely creepy.

Thing 3
"I am absolutely jealous of anyone in your life you show more attention to than me. Why should I have to share you, feeling more pure about you than anyone else possibly could? I don't ever want you to make anyone else feel as significant as you make me feel. I need to always know I am considered your best and most important friend in the world, and no one else should have that distinction in your life for even a moment. I want to always be the greatest and the funniest and the most important one in your life. I hate knowing someone else can you make you laugh harder, smile bigger, or be more nostalgic for times you shared, than I can. Focus any passions or excesses on me and only me. I desperately need your approval, validation, and constant love."

Egads, I have no life outside this person.


Pretty gross, huh? I am so glad these feelings fade, or can be controlled by more mature ones, and above all can be brought under rein by the pure love of Christ, and God's power in my life.

Thank God I don't have to be slave to such things forever.

"Writer Girl"

(Updated 4/26, as the original version did not match up correctly with the song)

Just for fun, here are some alternate lyrics I wrote to "Piano Man" that describe the characters in my books. As sung by Doc, Larissa's friend and muse who is a bartender at "Margaritaville," to Larissa, while she tends bar at the "Shangri La."

“It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday,

The regular crowd all is in,

There’s an odd girl sitting next to me,

A casino nurse in the city of Sin.”

“She’s just one of the many who work here,

That seem too strange to be real.

Cause she’s young and she’s sweet,

And treats injuries of cheats,

Her friend beats for copping a feel.”

“Oh, la la la, de de da

La la, de de da da da”

“Spin us a tale, you’re the writer girl.

Spin us a tale tonight.

Cause we’re all in the mood for a story now,

And you serve them with vodka or sprite.”

“Now this girl at the bar is a friend of mine,

She gets me my drinks for free.

And she’s quick with a joke,

Or a tale of some folks,

That are more than a little cray-zee.”

“She says, ‘Doc, I believe Roxy’s killing me,’

As a smirk ran away from her face.

“Well I’m sure if she doesn’t stop guarding me,

I’ll never make it past 1^st base.’ ”

“Oh, la la la, de de da

La la, de de da da da”

“Miss Larissa’s a bartender-novelist,

Who never had time for a life.

And she’s talking with Justin,

Who made a life bust-in,

Bad guys, but he’s put that on ice.”

“And the waitress is one of a pair of twins,

And the owner’s as rich as they come.

Just make sure you don’t cross his new girlfriend there,

Cuz with mobsters’s who she used to run.”

“Spin us a tale, you’re the writer girl.

Spin us a tale tonight.

Cause we’re all in the mood for a story now,

And you serve them with vodka or sprite.”

“It’s a pretty weird crowd that she writes about.

Casino manager’s due in awhile.

Cause she’s having a baby,

With her husband who may-be,

A gambler who’s been here awhile.”

“And the can-can girl sings like an angel now,

As her boyfriend conducts the band’s pace.

Their friends sit at the bar,

An odd collection, by far,

In the Shangri La owned by one Ace.”

“Oh, la la la, de de da

La la, de de da da da”

“Spin us a tale, you’re the writer girl.

Spin us a tale tonight.

Cause we’re all in the mood for a story now,

And you serve them with vodka or sprite.”

More Thoughts on Frienship

The hardest part, whether it's girls or guys I'm dealing with, seems to be my tendency to let sentimentality rule, when in some ways I need to be more practical.

This is like swimming upstream for me. I already have all these great, emotional ideas about how friendship is only a matter of feelings, that I'll know what's right and what's meant to be by how I feel in the moment.

I'm always living in moments! Why is it so hard to look at the big picture, to try for the long term as well? Sometimes I feel almost a prisoner to nostalgia and my crazy emotions.

It doesn't help that over the years I've gotten less stable. I cry now at the drop of a hat, I am sensitive to a lot of things I never was before, I read into and analyze far too much.

And I'm starting to realize I can't always trust my feelings as facts, because I have had some pretty darn ridiculous feelings that in the moment seemed overpowering and legitimate, but that later I want to laugh at and wonder where they've gone.

I always find myself yearning after what I've lost. All the people I was very close to that I no longer am, or who are so different I can no longer see the parts of them I fell in love with. I often don't see what's right in front of me, because I'm still thinking of these lost friends and looking for what I think they gave me.

I miss the way it was in high school, where you had a group of friends constantly around you, and friendships were as simple as breathing. It was effortless; they were just always there. Some of them you were closer to than others, but there was always that core group, always around, someone always there when something went horrifically wrong. I believed several of these people WOULD lay down in the middle of traffic for me, (even if they really wouldn't.) I miss the ease of it all, the constancy, the dependability, and the shared experience. Adult friendships are nothing like this; they take work and thought and deliberation, and I am so clueless at how to do something like that, when it's not purely emotionally driven, that I often find myself exhausted, hurt, and confused.

But if that was the perfect example of friendship, why are they gone now?

I've romanticized and idealized that part of my life, and what those people represented. Yes, it was fantastic to have a group of friends constantly around, but aside from that, my life was full of drama and insecurity and often felt like an emotional roller coaster, (the kind that sometimes gives you whiplash!)

It was in high school that I was diagnosed with depression. I gave myself a whole host of insecurities and charming paranoias, from validation issues to panic attacks. I was victim to severe self-confidence issues, and dangerously afraid of abandonment and rejection. I also had a faith crises and realized the Mormon church had left me feeling hollow and empty for the past few years, and that I was just spinning my wheels in my walk, (ride? mixing my metaphors) with God.

And let's not forget this perfect group of friends I find myself so nostalgically longing for, broke down into some pretty messed up individual relationships. My main boyfriend through high school and I were in a codependent, abusive relationship together. My best friend in the world, the girl who had been my bestest girl friend ever since I was 2 years old, had a falling out with me. Her other female best friend and I had a falling out over her ex-boyfriend; I sided with him, my best friend sided with her. I got my best male friend, (after my husband) in the world out of the deal; my practically-brother, Justin. But I lost the two females I was closest to, leaving a gap that has never been filled or completely healed. And the guy I was closest to after said Justin, was actually my ex-boyfriend, the last guy I had dated before I had hooked up with Mr. Codependancy. We had a strange relationship that made my current boyfriend jealous and made my friends gossip. We exchanged more notes, thoughts, and feelings than I can count, and we were so close that the hole he left in my life when we drifted is something I still long for, even if I don't understand what it was. I shared my writing with him and he understood me better than I knew myself. I even came back my first year of college to go to homecoming with him, (he was a year younger than me) and all the things I loved most about him ended up being poured into my novels as one of the main characters.

Do I really want complicated relationships like those making up the majority of my life again? That was the substance of almost all my friendships in high school. There was a constant presence of people I loved, yes, but also a constant insecurity and fear of losing them or their approval or their love. I was not a happy person then.

With the exception of Justin, all these people are gone or out of my life now. I am not close to a single one of them. With most of them, I don't even think I'd want to be anymore. People who I loved in ways as automatic as my heart beating are now strangers I barely know, and in whose life I make almost no difference. How does that happen?

People aren't perfect. And for all my narrative and self justification, that starts with me. I'm a bit of an emotional basket case, no matter how much I wish for the mental discipline of a Vulcan. I can't control all these crazy feelings, just hold them back and ask God to help me do my best to let the right ones filter through in the right moment.

I wouldn't blame people if that scares them. It scares the hell out of me, sometimes!

And yet, in spite of and because of those things, I have come so far already. The moment I started to turn these things over to God, I started to experience the first real victory in my life. I can go to parties and hangouts without always being an insecure wreck, now. I can trust people, but accept their humanity when they fail me, without taking it entirely personal. I can get validation and fulfillment from the Lord instead of others. The core issue are not gone, but they are so much weaker and have so much less control of my life than they used to.

And for the first time since childhood, I am truly happy in life. Despite my struggles, I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful house, a fantastic marriage, a wonderful church, and a great job. I wouldn't trade any of these gains for that romanticized idea of friendship from high school. I have a taste now of what it's like to be truly happy, and I know God only wants to give me more.

If I trust that these things I have now are better and healthier, (which they constantly prove they are) then I need to learn to trust that the friendships God wants to give me will be more of the same He has provided in every other way. Nostalgia is nice, but it realistically has to have its place. It doesn't get to drive anymore, nor do my emotions. I am learning a new way to steer, and it's hard and scary sometimes, but infinitely better.

The Nature of Friendship

I find myself caught between what I have already defined friendship to be and what God is now showing me it may actually look like in my life.

The troublesome thing about this is it is my own context I created that seems to cause me the most problems.

Let me back up. I have had a yearning for real female friendships in my life for awhile, now. This is largely because I haven't had any of import for the past few years. The reason, again, is mostly myself. After self-destructing one to another, I am a little gun-shy.

My best friend from high school and I had a falling out when I was 17 and drifted so much, we were never able to reconnect.; today we are essentially strangers and I am ashamed at how little a part of her life I am. Then I started burning girls out. My best friend from college and I made a passive-agressive mess of things, before finally allowing it to drift as well into something more safe, if less comforting. And then, of course, there was her lovely fellow artist that I bonded with super quickly and just as quickly estranged by trying to turn her into something she wasn't, and looking to her for validation and support just like I had all the others.

After her, God convicted me that I didn't know how to form or maintain a healthy female relationship, so I withdrew to lick my wounds and start to try and deconstruct where I'd gone wrong.

I've always had an easier time with friendship with guys, but that is tricky and dangerous territory since I am a married woman. A line has to be drawn at a certain point so the wrong messages aren't sent. I'm not the greatest at drawing that line, so aside from my friend Justin from high school (who is also friends with my husband and essentially my brother) I'm not very close to any of my other guy friends. When you are married, most men need to be held at at least arm's length.

For a long while I focused on the one true example of friendship I knew I had; my relationship with my husband. Here is something I know God has given me, because it continues to grow and we continue to have so much fun together, doing even the littlest or stupidest things. But that relationship is unique given our circumstances; we live together and are around each other an awful lot. That's not going to happen with anyone else.

God has blessed me with two female relationships in my life as guides, but neither of them look like my conception of a perfect female friendship.

The first is with my friend Betsy from church. We are not girly together, and seem to relate the best on a mental level. She is very practical and wise, I am very emotional and passionate, and yet somehow it works. But there's no slumber parties or long hangouts here. Betsy is not very emotional herself, and so we meet on the ground we have in common, and more importantly, Betsy is actively helping me in my walk with Christ, trying to show me truth, and counsel me in how I can grow there. She is a mentor and a teacher in many ways; not something my narrow concept of friendship was actively seeking as a possibility. She represents an amazing accomplishment that God has brought about, yet how much I must take her for granted.

The other relationship is with my middle sister, and is a sheer gift from God. All our years growing up together we pretty much hated each other. We beat on each other physically, emotionally, and mentally. I never felt more a failure then in how I related to Valerie, and my automatic reactions to her revealed my own personal sin better than anything ever had.

I finally handed this over to the Lord and asked him to fix it, even though it didn't seem possible.

The next thing I knew Val had approached me saying she wanted to mend our relationship, and we started studying the Bible together. Now I have a great friend that works in my office, carpools with me, and who I always look forward to seeing. I never thought my sister and I would get to that point.

It almost seems greedy to want more than that, and yet it's too late to stop that desire, because I've already formed my own ideas.

The problem is actually there in my books for people to see. While the world I created is not exactly idealized, many of the circumstances very much are. Particularly the group of friends Roxy and, (my two main characters) belong to. They live with a group of people who are always there in the casino together and available at any moment to help deconstruct problems. I was reflecting on them last night and laughingly thought of the part in "Good Will Hunting" where Robin Williams is describing Matt Damon's Southie friends, and says something to the effect of "They would lay down in traffic for him." These are the people I created around Roxy and Larissa, (and who are themselves this same thing to each other and these friends, as well) They would all die for each other in a moment, all are unquestionably loyal and there for each other without thinking. No one is ever abandoned or has to deal with the despair of wondering if the others will have her back.

There are males in this mix, and not just females, but it should be noted there is a decent portion of women: Roxy, Larissa, Pansy, Nancy, and Sunshine, and that they all treat each other this way. There is ultimately no passive-aggressive behavior. Everyone is honest and straightforward. There is no rejection.

I am morbidly afraid of rejection. I have to strive again and again to turn my feelings back over to the Lord every time a friend cancels a date with me or doesn't come to an event I am having. It's extremely hard to not take that personal and believe it's a reflection on me and whether they want to be with me.

So aside from that and having identity issues/needing to learn to look to the Lord to fulfill those feelings, I also am always trying to recreate my little "Heaven on Earth" group of friends I have made in my book. That group of people who all love me unquestionably, who have no major contention, who are loyal to a fault, without thinking.

The problem is that's not real, and every time the Lord tries to show me what He might have in store for me instead, it's hard to put the fantasy aside and accept what He's trying to give me. People are much more messy than that, and I guess I'm not always good with messy. I have a group of girls at church who I want to develop real friendships with. I just keep feeling paralyzed when I make overtures.

I don't have this figured out yet, but here are just some thoughts. It seems like this is a really hard lesson the Lord will be teaching me over this year and on.

Teaser to Book 2

For those who bought book 1 before the teaser was added, here it is as now appears in the back of the book-

Look for the continuation to “Roxy’s Story” in the next book of the series, “Roxy’s Sequel.” Here’s a sneak peak:


~ Chapter 1 ~

St. Petersburg had to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.

That’s what Ace was thinking as he looked around the enchanting city. His eyes met splashes of color everywhere he turned. Walls painted bold yellows, blues, and greens. Black and white checkered floors. He could see the gleam of numerous fountains, water sparkling and glinting in the light and making a myriad of rainbows.

This was what a place at the height and glory of Western power was supposed to look like. It was as though the communist disease that had decimated most of the rest of Russia had simply been unable to leave its mark here. St. Petersburg still stood tall, vibrant, and decadent. It was the kind of place Ace admired.

He looked at the crowds and smiled. People were everywhere, laughing, smiling, and talking with animated voices. It was a white night, and the entire city was celebrating.

Ace distractedly fingered the box in his pocket. With any luck, he’d be celebrating soon, too.

The woman beside him turned to catch his eyes. “This is more wonderful than I could have ever imagined,” she said, in her silken voice. Her dark hair blew in the warm St. Petersburg breeze, and the contented smile he’d been longing to see spread across her beautiful face. After all Ace knew she’d been through in her life, it was worth the time and money he’d invested to finally see her look truly happy.

They were at the Grand Peterhof Palace, standing together in front of the Grand Cascade. It was the kind of thing that happened in movies. The perfect moment.

His lovely companion appeared to be basking in the delight of such a scene, soaking up every sight, sound, and smell. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to the chatter around her.

Ace allowed himself to enjoy the sight of her for just a moment. She wore a gauzy red dress, perfect for a warm summer night like this one, and it rippled with the slightest breeze. Her shinning hair wafted around her face in loose curls and waves. Her red lips were still lost in that satisfied smile, and her brown eyes were sparkling with delight as they opened again.

She was a vision of loveliness.

Ace knew it was now or never. He caught hold of her hand and with a fluid movement was down on one knee, the black box opened in front of her to reveal a dazzling ring. His ladylove had frozen and was no longer looking at anything but him.

“What say we keep traveling like this together?” Ace asked calmly. “For the rest of our lives. I can show you so many more places you’ve never seen. Vienna, Rome, Tokyo, Dubai. I’ll give you the world. Dearest, will you marry me?”

For a moment her expression was stunned. She looked around at her surroundings again, taking in the statues, the palace, the grandiose fountains, and finally fixed her gaze back on Ace. Her lovely eyes, exactly the color of expensive brandy, stared intently at him. Her perfect red lips broke into a smile.

“Yes,” Roxy replied earnestly. “Yes I will.”


Ace woke up with a start and immediately wanted to punch something. He was not in St. Petersburg, but in his huge bed, in his penthouse suite at the Shangri La Casino.

Alone.

He sat up and leaned his tired head on his knees. Why did his brain continue to torture him like this? He already knew he should have proposed to Roxy in St. Petersburg. If he had, she would probably be lying in bed next to him now, and it would not be a nightmare he’d just woken up from, but a happy recollection of his most triumphant moment. He could have watched her sleep beside him and marvel that she was his…

He looked at the empty pillow next to him accusingly. At the very least, Mika should have been lying there. But a physical relationship wasn’t something he would ever be able to pursue with his lovely girlfriend as long as she wasn’t his wife. One of the downsides to dating a former prostitute who had a lethal Chinese martial artist as a mother. And he neither wanted to scare Mika off, nor incur Xi-Feng’s wrath.

How long had it been now since he had felt the warmth of a woman’s body next to him in bed? With a sickening lurch of his stomach he realized it had been the night almost a year ago when Roxy had brought the first batch of Asian prostitutes back to the casino. She had asked Ace to let them stay there and have a chance at new lives for themselves by hiring them on as much-needed staff. When Ace had agreed to it, Roxy had been so grateful, she’d spent the night in his bed. Of course, it hadn’t been the way he’d wanted it. Roxy had gently turned down his advances and made him settle for the simple pleasure of getting to hold her all night.

Still, that had been enough to sustain him for months.

If Roxy had even agreed to be his lover instead of his wife, Ace was fairly certain he would have started this morning off with a roll in the hay. Even though he knew Roxy was not as wanton now with her body as she had been in her CIA days, he was willing to bet she would have had no objections to being monogamously intimate with the man she loved.

That bastard Giovanni.

Ace grimaced. He should probably feel guilty for thinking about stuff like this. He did want Roxy to be happy, and she could have chosen much worse than the Italian card dealer from the Bellagio. But it still bothered him that Giovanni also happened to be the grandson of the mob boss that had ordered the death of two of Roxy’s friends, during their mission in Russia a couple years ago. Sure, Giovanni had sent his family home packing the one time they came after Roxy. But that didn’t make him the hero she seemed to think he was. Ace still didn’t understand how she could trust him.

And of course, it burned him up inside that Giovanni got to have that perfect body of hers and he didn’t…

It was probably stupid to be thinking about her that way. And as much money and influence as Ace had in Las Vegas, he could get laid faster than you could say Echelon Place. He probably wouldn’t even have to leave his own casino to find a beautiful woman who’d be willing to sleep with him.

If that was all he wanted.

But Ace wasn’t the type of man who was interested in casual sex. And he was definitely above taking a pity shag. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than love as the motivation for spending a night with someone.

Besides, he also wasn’t the type of man who would ever cheat on his significant other. Not like that. Mika deserved better. So if it meant he was currently consigned to a life of sexual abstinence with a girlfriend who needed a delicate touch lest she shy away or remember the trauma of her former life-

So be it.

Ace knew how to be patient. He could wait for years, if that’s what the game required, and use the time to further all his plans and ambitions. Being an eccentric casino owner meant always knowing how to cut your losses and look for the next opening. He just wasn’t sure yet that his long-term goals included marrying Mika.

He was happy with her, of course. She was sweet and eager, and almost worshipped the ground he walked on. And anyone with eyes could see how amazingly pretty she was, with a perfect curtain of shiny black hair, and dark, almond-shaped eyes always glowing with earnestness. Mika was as genuine as they came.

But a part of him, however much he wanted to banish it, was still holding out for someday when Roxy might get tired of her former-mobster boyfriend, and realize Ace had always been right for her. It was only a matter of time until she discovered what he already knew. They were perfect for each other. Roxy would see that, eventually.

He was determined to be there when that moment happened.