The Slurping Coffee Early on a Sunday Daybook

Outside my window: The sun is pouring through my office window, making a shadow of my fingers on the keyboard. There’s rain in the forecast for later, so my clothesline, which I can see from my window, will stay empty today.

Around the house: The girls watching a movie in the front room, Daddy’s in his recliner snoozing, and the baby’s asleep for a bit longer (I hope). I have a few things to get done in my office, but I think my uninterrupted time this morning is getting gone pretty fast.

In my kitchen: The dishwasher’s running and there’s a basket full of clothes to fold. Let’s not talk about the mental block I have for meal planning lately.

In my thoughts: All I have to do this week! School starts, too, so there’s some excitement–and, if I’m honest, uncertainty–with that.

In thanksgiving: For an answered prayer. For a sister-in-law who brings me joy. For a friend who makes me smile. For a family who loves me.

Nose inserted: I am sitting down each day with Lisa Hendey’s soon-to-be-released book, A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms. I read a chunk of it before it was available as a print version, but sitting down with the book each day is truly a gift from a friend. This book will be one of my favorite gifts. I can’t wait for you to get your copy! I also just started Wholly Mary: Mother of God, by Chris Padgett. I’m one chapter in and hooked!

Recent reads:

  • Introduction to the Devout Life, by St. Francis de Sales – such an awesome book. I don’t even know where to start for a short blurb about it…so I won’t. I’ll just say that it’s one of the most useful spiritual reads I’ve read and that it’s so applicable to me as a mom and wife and person. Wow. SO glad I read it!
  • Stealing Jenny, by Ellen Gable – I met Ellen for the first time at the Catholic Marketing Network trade show and Catholic Writers Conference Live a few weeks ago, and she gave me a copy of this book. I had already started the electronic version she sent me, and it had already claimed me (though I couldn’t indulge and stay up late to read it until I returned home). My niece promptly claimed the hard copy, and I finished the electronic copy. It was amazing! It will be out soon…TOTALLY worth your preorder!
  • A Piece of the Sky, by Michelle Buckman – I didn’t think I could be a Michelle Buckman groupie properly if I hadn’t read her first novel. So read it I did. It’s out of print now, but I found it via Paperback Swap a while back. I really enjoyed it. I’d call it chick-lit, but well done. I’m not a big reader of chick-lit, for the most part, but I liked it. Buckman has a real talent for getting to the heart of an issue and keeping things real, while making faith and God tangible and approachable.

A favorite thing: A good book. :)

Worth a thousand words: (courtesy of my road-trip-partner niece, Ree)

The face the boy makes that cracks us all up

Seven Favorite Books from 2010 Reading

This is my chance to share brief thoughts on seven books from my 2010 reading that I didn’t review (though I meant to). This year, I’ve been thinking about using Goodreads to write an immediate and very brief (2-3 sentences) review of every book I read. (We’ll see how that goes.)

Going Public: Your Child Can Thrive in Public School, by David & Kelly Pritchard

I had thought we would homeschool. I had, in fact, been researching it since before I was pregnant with our six-year-old. I have a shelf of homeschooling books, the ability to discuss philosophies at length with any poor sop who mentions it, and enthusiasm.

When my husband and I discerned, though, that homeschooling was not going to work (for a variety of reasons — and this isn’t the time or place to discuss them), I started another kind of research. Surely the schools couldn’t be all bad. And, in Going Public I found just the support and encouragement I needed. I returned it to the library, bought my own copy (and talked about it so much my best friend also bought a copy), and promptly lent my copy to someone. (I’ve been considering buying another copy, because there are passages I’d like to reread.)

This book is wonderfully written and down-to-earth. The Pritchards share their approach to public schooling, and it involves many of the same skills and commitments that are required by all parenting. Their philosophy, in fact, can be applied to pretty much all aspects of life as a parent, from religious education formation to schooling. Parents have to be…parents. They share great ideas for exactly how to be involved, how to supplement at home what’s going on at school (especially in the area of morals), and the concept of a family Bible study every morning, while beyond me, really made me consider.

Highly recommended, especially if you send your kids to schools, public or otherwise.

The Loser Letters, by Mary Eberstadt

I’m a big fan of The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis, and Mary Eberstadt’s Loser Letters plays on what I love best about Screwtape. It’s a series of letters, written by a young lady who wants to help the devil do a better job of recruiting. I laughed quite a lot, reading this, but I also shuddered. There’s a lot of truth in this book. Well done.

Sadly, I don’t have my own copy (got it from the library). I will, though, because this is going to be one that I reread.

Life is a Series of Presentations, by Tony Jeary

A good friend of mine lent this book to my husband. He went on and on about how good it was, so I started reading it last spring (in part because I was starting to get a bit nervous about my presentation for the CNMC). What I found, instead of a business book, was a life guide. What Jeary outlines in this book, I have applied to all aspects of my life. I plan to reread it sometime…after I wrench it away from my husband, that is. (We have our own copy by now.) Five stars.

The Mysterious Benedict Society, by Trenton Lee Stewart

I dabble in young adult and middle grade fiction, and though I say it’s because of the kids in my life, the fact is that there’s a lot of good writing in this section of the bookstore. I bought this book on a whim, while in the most delightful bookstore in Mississippi early last year. After I read it, I couldn’t resist sharing it with a niece and a nearly-niece. They loved it too. It’s an adventure story of the best kind, thick enough to keep you warm on a winter afternoon and well-written enough to make you want to run right out to get the sequels. Don’t miss it.

Please Don’t Drink the Holy Water, by Susie Lloyd

There are books that are funny and books that are fun to read. This book is both and has the unique distinction of being one of two books last year that made me laugh out loud. It also, I should note, made me laugh so hard I was crying on the couch one night, long after my husband went to sleep. One of my favorites from last year and of all time, I think. Go get a copy and be sure you don’t read it with liquid in your mouth (lest you lose it all over yourself when you start laughing).

The Boys Upstairs, by Jane Lebak

Initially, I was glad to see that this was a shorter novel, because I was reading it electronically in the days when the only device I had was an iPod Touch, my laptop, or my husband’s iPad on the weekends. When I got to the end, though, I was disappointed that it wasn’t longer…it was well-written, well-crafted, and well done.

Five stars and a high recommendation.

The Catholic Home: Celebrations and Traditions for Holidays, Feasts, and Every Day, by Meredith Gould

I justified purchasing this book because of some research I was doing for a manuscript of my own. I only wish I hadn’t waited so long to buy it: it is full of fabulous insight, inspiring ideas, and plenty of catechesis. One of my favorite resources and one that I plan to reference often throughout the year. I feel like I should write the author a thank you.

Not everyone themes their Quick Takes, but we’re all glad Jen at Conversion Diary keeps hosting every week. Go on over and check out this week’s collection of posts.

Quick Takes with Michelle Buckman

Michelle Buckman has been quite gracious to me this week, not only agreeing to a giveaway (enter! enter! enter!) of her awesome book Rachel’s Contrition, but also doing a guest post about the writing of it.

Now, to top off the week in a vein that’s very worthy of the laughing I do among friends, she shares seven fun facts about herself. My thanks to her for being such a sport and so generous with herself and her time!

-1-

At one time, my kids had 60 pets. Really. Luckily we have six acres and only two of them lived inside. (Note to self: Never ever have ferrets again.)

-2-

Because I was born in New York and grew up in Canada, my husband’s family always teased me for being a Yankee until my husband had to go work in Detroit for three months. When he came back, he sat at the dinner table listening to me go on for ten minutes about everything the kids were doing, then suddenly burst out laughing and said, “Boy, do you ever sound Southern!” I’ve never forgiven him for that.

-3-

I’m done cooking supper when the smoke alarm goes off. (Who has time to stand in the kitchen watching food cook?)

-4-

When I was a kid, I got home late for supper one night and my mother wouldn’t let me sit at the table. I felt terrible, so guilty! Later I found out it was because there were twelve people at the table, and I would have been an unlucky thirteen. I’ve inherited some of her Irishness, for sure.

-5-

I am not a funny person, which is why my novels are dark, but I wrote a humor column for five years (that’s why this is so hard–I’m not funny!). My family learned that anything remotely weird they did would end up in the local paper. Sometimes the need for material extended to outsiders. One time a cashier messed up my pumpkin because she wouldn’t stop the conveyor belt at the register. I wrote about that pumpkin in my next article. The next time I went to the grocery store, every single employee made a point of saying hello and asking if I needed help!

-6-

I once wrote ten articles in a row about cement for a construction magazine–it was a hard subject. (See how not funny I am? Ha)

-7-

The kids hate me because I’ve taught them so much about plotting and storytelling that they can never enjoy movies anymore–we all know the ending five minutes into the film.

For more Quick Takes, be sure to visit Conversion Diary.

Writing Rachel’s Contrition, by Michelle Buckman

Now here’s a treat: author Michelle Buckman agreed to share a guest post today. After I asked about the inspiration and experience she had writing her amazing novel Rachel’s Contrition (which I’m giving away this week, in case you missed it, so GO ENTER!), she responded with this post. I’m humbled and honored to be able to share it with you here.

Three things inspired the writing of Rachel’s Contrition. The first was hearing a fifteen-second news story on the radio about a couple that found their child dead. The news commentator related the story so flippantly that I sat there, stunned, thinking about that poor couple, about how everything in their life must have come to an abrupt halt. How could they face each other with such a tragedy between them? Did they blame each other? Did they continue to talk? Did they sleep with each other anymore? Did they turn toward each other, or turn away with blame and guilt? They stayed on my mind, and so I created them on paper, making up who they were, where they came from, and what the child’s death did to their lives and their relationship.

At the time, I only wrote one chapter and put it away. It was a story I had to let live in my head for a while so that I would really get to know Rachel. I’d seen the toll of death when two women I knew suffered full-term stillbirths, and I knew the story needed great depth to truly tell it with the gravity it deserved.

A few years later, two friends lost children in accidents in the span of six months of each other. As I watched them become shadows of their former selves, I saw how people treated them in much the same way as the earlier mothers—expecting them to get on with life after a short while—but I knew how impossible that was. I had traveled the road long enough with those other mothers that I knew two years later they would still feel hollow inside. They would have a need to talk about that child every chance they could, while acquaintances and family would avoid the subject because it made them feel awkward.

As a result, I didn’t write Rachel’s Contrition for people who have lost children as much as I wrote it for outsiders to walk a mile in their shoes.

The question of where to set the story was never a debate for me. Years earlier, I visited the Basilica of St. Lawrence in Asheville, North Carolina, with a homeschool group, and thereafter continued to make pilgrimages several times a year because of the overwhelming spiritual renewal I feel every time. As described in the book, it’s a massive structure built by the same architect that designed the nearby Biltmore House, and like the house, is full of treasures. The statues, the alcoves, and the altar are all breathtaking. But even more than that, there is holiness to that church that beckons me. The first time I entered, I stopped inside the door to watch a man drop down to shuffle to a pew on his knees. It is that inspiring.

I knew if any church could call out to Rachel, it would be that basilica. But I didn’t want it to be a “walk in and declare immediate faith” scenario. First of all, I don’t find that realistic, but also, here in the south, there is a definite bias against Catholics. I wanted to address several basic issues that are constantly imparted falsely to Protestants about our Holy Mother Mary, the saints, confession, and the Eucharist, but I wanted to do so without preaching. Rachel’s stand-off attitude allowed me that opportunity. I was successful, too, based on an email I just received from a Protestant thanking me for including those aspects, because she now understands things about the Catholic faith she never would never have otherwise learned.

Catholicism is more than just setting in the story. Father Jay is integral to the plot. The problems that plague him not only give him depth as a character, but allow an occasion for God to use him in healing Rachel as much as Rachel must in turn help him and her friend Lilly. It is a triangle in which all three must be present to find resolution. And then, of course, the catalyst to Rachel’s interest God comes from Saint Therese of Lisieux.

I never tell much about Saint Therese. I only include quotes from Story of a Soul, but those quotes give the reader a glimpse into the dark moments of Saint Therese’s journey so that it adds more intrigue (I hope), and yet also exposes the reader to The Little Way, a wonderful message of love no matter what denomination a person follows, but is in every way fully Catholic, and perhaps gives non-Catholics an idea of what we Catholics gain by studying and surrounding ourselves with saints.

Being a “Catholic” novel created a problem when I first tried to get Rachel’s Contrition published. When I finished writing the manuscript, my agent submitted it to Christian (Protestant) houses and reported back that several editors loved the book but wouldn’t publish it because of the Catholic content. I think that attitude may be changing now, but at the time I was told to make it non-denominational in order to sell it. I’d done that with A Piece of the Sky, and again with Maggie Come Lately and My Beautiful Disaster, but I refused to do that with Rachel’s Contrition.

I remember crying as I watched Pope John Paul II’s funeral, and promising God and myself that I would not take my Catholic faith out of the book. Instead I set it aside. It all turned out for the best, as things usually do when we leave them in God’s hands. Last year when I heard that Sophia Institute Press was expanding into fiction, I submitted the manuscript to editor Regina Doman, which placed it exactly where it needed to be. I couldn’t ask for a better publisher for Rachel’s Contrition. God is good!

Mary and Rachel (with a giveaway on top)

A Mary Moment Monday post

I have small white caskets on my mind. We remember Lucas (Logan‘s older brother) on November 14, and that’s one reason why. I’m also due to have my baby in the next four weeks, and that’s another reason why.

For me, pregnancy and caskets are linked. It’s not a morbid linking, though as I look back at that sentence, I realize it sounds a bit alarming. Maybe I should compare it to how the crucifix means more to me in the context of Christmas than at almost any other time of year. When I see Mary at the manger in our Nativity scene in the front of our church, I sometimes sneak a glance upward, to the crucifix, and think of Mary’s baby boy hanging there. She’s at the foot of the Cross from the very beginning.

I’ve only witnessed two women bury their children. One of them buried her second son, while holding hands with her two daughters and husband. Years later, she would bury her husband, and as I watch her up close, I marvel. And I pray…very, very often, with more emotion than words.

When I read Rachel’s Contrition (reviewed here), I was struck by many things. One was the raw emotion of Rachel Winters, a mother who buried her daughter. I recognized that emotion; I had seen it up close.

Mary’s a part of Rachel’s Contrition, in a way that might seem surprising. Here’s her first appearance:

I turn to the front of the small chapel area and see above me in an arched alcove trimmed with sculpted doves, a statue of the Virgin Mary, her eyes turned skyward while angels, bent in prayer, kneel at her feet. As I look up at her, I find my eyes drawn upward as hers are, and gradually I quit thinking of mysef and think only of my nightmares, of Seth and Caroline, of life. I slide into a seat and stare at her. As I study her, recognition dawns on me. She is the lady in my dream, and the very same woman I saw running into the church. She is the one who was holding my baby.

My baby. How could you take my baby? The pitch in my veins rises to my head and pours out in tears. I may be a horrible person, but I was her mother. She’s my baby. How could you take her away from me?

We find Mary and Rachel again, together, later on:

I look up at the crucifix and try to picture Jesus holding her. I can’t.

Instead I say something I don’t mean to admit. “I had a dream once. Not about Jesus or God or whatever.” I pause not wanting to go back to the memory. He waits silently. He’s good at that. “I saw Mary holding her. It was Caroline’s baptism and Mary was holding her instead of me. I thought it was a lady with long white hair, but then I saw that statue over there and I realized it was her.”

He nods. “Baptism washes us clean and makes us open to salvation. I think it’s very fitting you saw her that way. That’s a good image to start with. Now think of Mary rocking your baby in heaven and Jesus looking over her shoulder, touching her cheek, delighting in her beautiful smile.”

I try, but I’m not ready for that yet. I picture Mary holding her and I still want to pry her out of Mary’s hands. I want to hit Mary with a stick and tell her Caroline is my baby. I don’t tell Father Jacobsen that.

In some deep part of me I understand where Father Jacobsen is going. If I can get to the point of picturing her with Mary and Jesus, I will be able to release her to death, to accept that she’s in heaven and not coming back. I can say it to myself a million times, but I have to make myself believe it. And he’s right, I have to become comfortable with it or I won’t ever really lay her to rest.

I picture Mary holding our nephews, playing with them in heaven, introducing them to her Son, and I smile. But I know about being mad at Mary: it’s something I’ve observed, and something I think I could experience myself, firsthand, given the right circumstance.

HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY BABY? How dare YOU hold him first? What more DO YOU WANT?

Isn’t she supposed to be helping us? How is taking a baby — or a young father — help? Oh, she’s not God; I know that. But she has influence; she has say; she has weight with the Big Guy. Why not help a sistah?

Good can come from what appears to be tragedy; is it still, then, tragedy? Who’s running this show, anyway?

Rachel’s Contrition tells a good story, but it also challenges me to examine my attitude a little more closely. Author Michelle Buckman told me it was a story she had to tell. She also told me that she couldn’t, in any way, remove her Catholicism from this story; it was as much a part of what had to be told as the death of the little girl.

Leave me a comment on this post and tell me why you’d like to win a copy of Rachel’s Contrition, and I’ll select four winners next Monday. Comment by midnight EST on Sunday, November 14. One entry per person, please.

A Great Book: Rachel’s Contrition

Are you looking for great fiction? How about great Catholic fiction? Well, look no further.

Rachel’s Contrition, by Michelle Buckman, is making some waves on Amazon, rating first in women’s fiction on the Feast of the Holy Rosary this year (October 7).

There’s a reason it made number one. This is a book that not only begs a reviewer to use words like “riveting,” “powerful,” and even “awesome,” but also one that lives up to the expectations you have for it.

There’s no namby-pamby dance-around-the-issues in this book. In Rachel Winters’s struggle with her daughter’s death, which includes some severe mental issues and the loss of everything important to her, including her marriage and her son, we find a story that could be far-fetched but is, instead, close to home.

Enter the teen daughter of her landlord and friend and an improbable pull to a dead nun. In the midst of accusations and the haunting forgetfulness that Winters can’t seem to shake, there’s an undercurrent of something else.

Here’s a book with suspense, struggle, and spectacle. This is Catholic fiction at its best, in part because it is, first and foremost, great fiction. There is no shove-faith-down-your-throat feel to it, though I would not call its Catholic label incidental. Just as, for those of us living our faith in everyday life, our Catholic-ness is ingrained into the very air we breathe, this novel embodies the richness and texture of Catholicism in real life.

I was unable to put this book down, and I blame Buckman’s superb writing and flawless storytelling. Rachel Winters could be me, many days (though I hope never to live through this sequence of events).

Entertaining, riveting, powerful, and, yes, AWESOME. Not only highly recommended, but one of the books I’ll be buying for others and sharing liberally.

I received the manuscript thanks to some work I do with the Catholic Writers Guild. I was neither paid to do this review nor coerced in any way to say anything positive. I just did. And will continue to. Because this is a book you should read and share!

A Book You Don’t Want to Miss: The Death Panels

Brace yourself before you read this masterpiece by Michelle Buckman. It’s not light reading, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to already recommending it to everyone I know.

The Death Panels builds a world that my children could live in, a world that’s not so far from possible. It takes the most dangerous and difficult issues of our time to a viable conclusion, one that’s painful and horrifying.

And yet, The Death Panels cannot be compared to other apocryphal works, because it doesn’t give up on human life, but rather shows that, in the midst of the darkest hour I could imagine for my children’s future, there is hope.

Buckman’s story leaves the reader wounded and motivated, changed and even renewed. It causes us to look at ourselves and consider just what we’re doing to stop – or continue – the dangerous trends of our time.

Here’s a book that turns our times, our cultural ideals, our basic assumptions, on their collective head. Here’s a book that exposes politics for the wrangling it is and points to another way. Here’s a look at what religious suppression could look like…sooner rather than later.

The Death Panels is a must-read and certain to be a classic. Instead of scaring us into action, it shows us that, despite human failure, Truth can triumph.

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