Everyday Woman Radio Show with Vicki Hinze

WHAT IS GOING ON?

WARNING:  This is a no-edit zone...

Since I’ve received so many notes asking about the changes on the site, I thought I’d answer here.

In short, someone has too much time on their hands and not enough substance to use it constructively, so they’ve been clipping my articles, attaching them and my name to spam, largely on sites dedicated to mature content.  (Read between the lines and you’ll get the malicious gist of it.)

Not only is this copyright infringement, it’s a greater offense because I have a lot of minor students who use the writers’ library because they’re interested in learning to write or in becoming writers.  If one uses a search engine rather than coming directly to this site, one is apt to see photos and read content one shouldn’t--and doesn’t want to--read.  

So I filed reports with the FBI and they’ve been terrific.  All of this has sidetracked me from my own work, trying to undo the nastiness. I’ve lost mental track of the number of abuse reports filed, the number of notices of copyright violations, etc. (Yes, I did retain hard copies, electronic copies and backups.  I’ve nearly filled a flash drive with this nonsense.)  Authorities and an electronic investigator have been hard at work running all this down to nip this challenge in the bud.

A head’s up warning:  do check your yahoo groups.  I discovered my public email address had been subscribed to lists I hadn’t or wouldn’t join.  I had no idea.  (Lesson learned:  monitor all.)

Anyway, with all of this going on, I had to do something to a) protect the young adults from exposure as best I am able and b) protect my copyrights.  So I moved the Writers’ Library to a private access site.  It requires an ID and password (more work on this end), is monitored (even more work on this end) and is computer specific (yet even more work on this end).

There were two choices:  stop sharing or go private access.  I elected to go private access.  I don’t like it, library users (I’m sure) don’t like it (though they’ve expressed understanding and support, for which I’m grateful).  But one of my missions in life is to mentor and so it’s an extra effort I wish I didn’t have to take, but I will take to not be derailed from my mission.

Initially, I was advised to put my Faith Zone blog posts on the private access site as well as the Writers’ Library.  Actually, I was advised to put the instructional blog posts written here in My Kitchen Table, the Faith Zone posts, my podcasts and the Writers’ Library on the private access site.

I did move the Faith Zone and Writers’ Library.  But the Faith Zone being behind closed doors really rubbed me raw.  I write it to share my spiritual journey so others can see we all stumble and fumble and fall to our knees, scrape our noses and still get up and move forward again. That’s the entire purpose of sharing it.  If it’s locked behind closed doors, so to speak, then it can’t fulfill its purpose for existing.

So again I was at a crossroad and it was decision time.  Do I allow someone with poor judgment (committing destructive acts just to annoy or damage rather than focusing on their own personal, constructive forward momentum IS poor judgment) to interfere?  Or do I elect to drop the project?

Dropping it would have been easier.  Much easier than this negative time-eater (for me and others!).  But, you know, that’s a cut-and-run resolution to this challenge, and that’s no solution at all.

So I prayed a lot, moved many of the Faith Zone posts back into the open forum, and have some monitoring assistance that is exceptional at doing what they do.  And I recall something my dad once said and I’ve not forgotten:  “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth fighting for.  If it’s not worth fighting for, why are you doing it?”

Faith Zone is worth doing.  

Going through the private access site challenges is worth doing.

Nipping copyright infringements and adopting a zero-tolerance policy on them is worth doing.

The added demands on my time and resources to mentor with the library are worth doing.

Bottom line, I’m doing what I believe has worth.

So that’s what’s going on.  It’s why my posting has been sporadic.  It’s why things are shuffling around and processes and permissions are changing.   It’s why I’m taking a bit longer to respond to emails and why I’ve recruited a little extra help.  I nicknamed her “The Enforcer” and him “The Hammer.” ☺  

If you happen across a violation, please let me know.  If we allow this nonsense, we’re doomed to more of it.  Getting away with it only encourages more of it and for others prone to this type of thing to violate us, too.  I don’t like feeling violated, and I’m sure you don’t, either.  So it’s on to pro-active time.

Here’s a quick list on what’s where now:

My Kitchen Table blog is public and HERE on the writing website. (www.vickihinze.com)

Faith Zone blog is public and HERE on the writing website.  (www.vickihinze.com)

Kids’ Faith Zone blog is public and at www.faithzonegran.com.  (Audio has been added.)

Writers’ Library is on a private access site.  Apply for access HERE.

Newsletters are public and HERE on the writing website. (www.vickihinze.com)

Readers’ Discussion Guides for readers’ groups are on the individual Book Pages.

Podcasts are public and HERE on the writing website. (www.vickihinze.com)

Everything else remains the same.

One note:  There are still a few posts in the Private Access Site FAITH ZONE blog that have not been migrated back to the public site.

So that’s what’s been going on here.  It hasn’t been fun, but it certainly has been informative. Soon, I’ll post a Tip Sheet on things you might want to check to make sure none of the nonsense is going on with you--and if it is, what countermeasures you can take.

It’s worth it.  You’re worth it.

Blessings,

Vicki

Important Note

Effective today, I will be posting my blogs on my website as follows:

Writing: Craft, Art, Business and Life: My Kitchen Table

Spirituality: Faith Zone

The "Vicki Hinze on Writing" blog will be incorporated into the MY KITCHEN TABLE blog.

The website url, should you have link challenges or desire to paste into your browser is:

http://www.vickihinze.com

Blessings,

Vicki

P.S. If you're viewing this via reader, you'll need to visit the www.vickihinze.com website to view any updates.

I apologize for any inconvenience, but I'm paddling as hard as I can, and I just can't keep up, so I'm having to consolidate where and when possible. Appreciate your understanding.

For your convenience, I will still notify you of new posts here.

Vicki Hinze
www.vickihinze.com

TAGS: Vicki Hinze, hinze blog, CREATIVE WRITING, feature article, writing craft, books, novels, readers, authors, emerald coast writers, novelists, booksellers, book reviewers, everyday woman radio, romance writers, thriller writers, suspense writers

Take a Step...

Stealing Religion

This one of those “can you believe it” days.

In the news this morning, there’s a report on a thief that has me shaking my head and wondering, “What is s/he thinking?”

Stealing isn’t a novelty; unfortunately, it happens with monotonous regularity. So what made this theft, or this thief, noteworthy?

The objects stolen. A nativity scene from a family’s front yard. Statues of Mary and Joseph and more. Not only did the thief steal these things, s/he also trashed other items in the family’s display--including bells and trees.

People have fought wars over religion throughout recorded history. They’ve corrupted religion, and hidden behind it when it suited them. They’ve committed all manner of crimes to all manner of people and dragged religion into it to justify their actions, regardless of how inappropriate or insincere they were in citing them. We’ve seen these type actions often--Saddam Hussein is a prime example, and there are many, many others.

It makes one wonder how a thief can twist and rationalize his/her actions to make stealing, much less stealing these types of things, acceptable.

The majority of us find stealing morally repugnant. We find stealing religious symbols representative of significant events to the owners even worse. Our disdain is palpable, our empathy with the targeted family engaged.

And then we learn that this family suffered this flagrant violation not once but twice. In a single week.

Twice they’ve been violated, had their boundaries trespassed upon and their property stolen. Twice the thief or thieves had no regard for the family. And twice the family was left with the rubble in their yard and with the task of cleaning up the mess the thief/thieves had left behind.

As I think of this family this morning, I wonder if they’ll build their display again--a third time. I hope that they do--and that they consider using electric fencing materials. A little shock could make a would-be thief stop and think. A shame that’s legally considered entrapment when it could spare a soul.

And I find my thoughts veering to the thief and, for the life of me, I can’t imagine how s/he has justified to him- or herself these actions. Stealing a religious display. It’s as warped as stealing religion itself. Will s/he recall the theft with each glance at the stolen nativity scene? What sickening baggage will s/he attach to the theft? Will s/he even grasp the magnanimity of what s/he’s done to him/herself?

You know, the sad truth is s/he probably will not. Anyone twisted enough to highjack religious displays is likely too twisted to know the truth when it’s staring them in the face.

Which is not to say that there won’t come a time when the scales are lifted from the eyes and the thief sees his/her true self with all the veneer stripped away. The truth shall set you free, right?

But first it’ll be a long look into a harsh mirror in which nothing is hidden and all that is true is exposed. Then the thief will learn the penalty of his/her actions, and then s/he will suffer the utmost consequences. Because in the very symbols stolen are promises that remain intact: you reap what you sow. And from that, the thief cannot hide.

I wonder. When the thief sows, feels the full weight of the consequences of his/her actions, how will s/he feel about stealing then? Because the truth is, the thief(s) might have stolen and damaged and destroyed that family’s property. But s/he did far more lasting damage to him/herself. The kind self-inflicted that requires far more than mere repayment to be satisfied. It requires forgiveness, and that requires divine grace.

Do you think, stealing a nativity, that this thief will have the courage to ask for divine grace?

Only s/he can answer that. But one thing is certain, while the family returns to its life of joy and peace, the thief or thieves will experience the absence of joy and/or peace and will experience the question being called over and again--in a year, five years, twenty or thirty years--until s/he does answer.

Knowing that, one has to ask: In stealing, who--the family or the thief--has and will suffer the greatest loss?

Blessings,

Vicki

P.S. After completing this post, I googled the article title “Christmas Vandals hit again.”
There were over 41,000 related stories...

Thank You, Lizzie Palmer

This video was created by Lizzie Palmer, a fifteen-year-old girl who has, through this video, reminded millions.

Blessings,

Vicki

HALLWAYS ARE THE PITS

I'm looking forward to looking back on all this.

-Sandra Knell

Life is all about transitions. As soon as we get comfortable in our current position, something changes. We don’t like change. We like our comfort zones. But there is something we like even less than change.

The hallways.

Hallways are those dis-comfort zones between where we are and where we’re next going. We get tossed into them, or stumble into them, and we have no idea how long we’re going to flounder around, looking for the doorway out. It could be we’ll walk right to it. It could be we’ll spend months or even years searching for it. There’s no way to really know.

What we do know is that we’re not going to find it whining about being stuck in the hallway. Actually, whining and complaining are only going to assure that we stay stuck in the hallway. Why?

Because what has our focus and attention is what we’ve got. That is our reality. When we spend fifteen minutes whining to someone about our situation, that’s fifteen minutes more that we’re focused on the hallway rather than getting out of it.

When transitions strike and we find we’re in the hallway, we need to determine what got us there, of course. But once that determination is made and we’ve grasped the good that can come from understanding, it’s time to look forward not back. Only in looking forward can we move forward deliberately--and hopefully avoid a side-trip that delays our forward momentum and lands us in yet another hallway.

It helps to remember too that while we don’t like hallways and we certainly don’t look forward to them, we can’t move ahead without them. These transitional phases are truly the pits, but if we can get past the uncertainty of them and harness the opportunity in them we’ll not only be healthier and happier, we’ll be seizing the chance given to us in them to progress.

Let me share an example. I was writing single title for Signature and Bombshell novels. It’s no secret that HER PERFECT LIFE (Signature) is a very, very special book to me and that I absolutely loved the smart, savvy women in the Bombshells. (Blondes with brains and the ability to use them--what’s not to love???)

Signature ceased publication about two months before the novel was released. Months later, Bombshell ceased publication. I went from writing two very different types of books for essentially two publishers (though both were with the same house) within a matter of six months. That’s one huge hallway.

While I was saddened--I loved these books--and not eager to be in yet another hallway, I also saw the opportunity in it. Mmm, what do I want to write now? It was a great time to really think about what I wanted to be my focus. What I was passionate and enthused about--enough that I’d be at my computer in the middle of the night because waiting until morning was just not possible.

Before and at this time, I’ve written in a lot of different genres and in books that were genre-benders and in no genre. But what would I love most? Suspense, mystery and a light romantic element. That’s been true and was still true. So on which element did I want to seriously focus? Suspense. And something with a twist--another genre-bender.

I wrote a suspense novel. Not the synopsis or proposal, the book. (Two reasons. 1. Taking care of my infant granddaughter while her mom taught school. No deadlines. 2. I loved the story and I wanted to see how it worked out. I didn’t want to wait.) DEAD GAME was born and is now with my agent. I’m so glad I did the book because I totally love it. I worked and reworked and reworked and reworked it until all of it felt just right. I think it’s some of my strongest work. We’ll see what others think shortly. Regardless, this was a terrific move for me, focusing on the suspense.

I also created a series of genre-benders. These, I’ve done all the prep work and synopses on several of the books. It’s paranormal, but not. Supernatural I call them. To skip to the chase, without the hallway, I wouldn’t have ventured into this area. Because I did, there’s now an offer on the table from a publisher interested in buying the whole series.

Hallways do have perks. But we have to be willing to get past the annoyance and concerns that come with being in them and use them and seize the opportunities that can be found in them--inside us, in taking the opportunity to evaluate and decide what we want--and outside us, in seeing opportunities we otherwise might not have noticed.

Hallways are seldom fun. They bring out concerns and fears and uneasiness in us all. But if we can find a way to be content in them long enough to evaluate, we can progress in ways we couldn’t without them.

That said, two things remain true:

1. We will likely always hate being in hallways.

2. We will likely always look forward to looking back on them.

Blessings,

Vicki

©2007, Vicki Hinze

Return to Vicki’s writing website.

NOTE: I've uploaded a new podcast on Inspiration. View it at: www.vickihinze.net in the Blog section or at this URL: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=2035507326

In Memory

WRITERS: MAKE MEMORIES

When you write full-time, you spend a lot of time alone with your thoughts. Sometimes that aloneness is spent in your office, sometimes under a tree, or daydreaming in a wheelbarrow or while staring out at the horizon on the beach--all of which can be peaceful or get your heart pounding, depending on the line of your thoughts--but it is still alone time. Still time where you’re generating fantasy and not living reality.

This is a real job hazard for writers, particularly full-time writers, because the work is never done. There is always a brimming list of to-do items screaming “Me next!” at you. And the only way you get time off to create real memories is to take it.

Some writers who have learned this the hard way feel that time off then must be a major production. Something significant must be done or it doesn’t qualify. And perhaps that’s true if you’re only interested in creating major memories. You know the kind I mean. Ones that require time to prepare and then more time to execute and then more time to recover from them--like our pending trip to Disney.

Here’s the challenge. We can get so locked into making those major memories that we neglect to realize we have countless opportunities to make little memories--and they can be even more important than the major ones--to us, and to others.

My angel (pictured above) and I have a tradition that makes for little memories. It started when I got the Mac computer that has photo booth. I showed it to her and she said with an endearing giggle, “Gran, let’s make silly faces.” Naturally, we did.

I didn’t realize it would become a tradition then, but it has. We routinely make our “silly face” pictures and have ever since that time. We both giggle and tease and come up with more and more goofy poses. It’s a special time for us. It’s fun. It’s little memories. Doesn’t take much time--probably fifteen minutes, if that. But it’s something precious to us both and something we’ll remember forever. That’s what making memories is all about.

Writers, take time to make little memories. They’re important to those with whom you make them, but they’re also important to you. We live in a fantasy world a lot of the time. Eventually, life intrudes and we’re firmly entrenched in reality. And if we lack little memories, reality isn’t a great place to be. Compared to the lush, rich lives we create in our minds, reality can be a dim substitute. And when that happens, we’re critically out of balance which isn’t good for us--the person or the writer. These memories ground us. Enrich us. And they remind us why we are driven to write.

The bonus is that when you’re alone with your thoughts, these little memories have the person and the writer balanced and more content.

Blessings,

Vicki

UNEXPECTED INSIGHTS--AND ANSWERS

UNEXPECTED INSIGHT—AND ANSWERS
It started out simply enough. Dinner with the kids and grands at a local waterfront eatery, lots of laughing, joking around—fun! Then came a restroom run…

A woman was there with her elderly mother. Mom was disoriented. Daughter was worried and exhausted, and the flashback came immediately and without warning. Suddenly I no longer stood before a sink, watching the daughter tell her mom to stay right where she was and then step into a stall. Suddenly I was back in the hospital with my patient mother and in the same worried and exhausted state I'd been in then, with one difference. Then, I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained. Now I was an objective observer, but acutely aware of the emotions of both women.

The daughter's state was processed immediately; I'd lived it for a grueling six months. But the mother's perspective was vivid and clear to me now in a way it had not been then. Weary of my limitations, fearful of being "too" much trouble and being put away in a home to wait for death. Angry at my body for betraying me by not doing the mindless tasks that once had been so simple they required no thought. And fear. Fear of being a burden to those I love, fear of having lived too long. Missing my deceased husband, my dead children, my youth…

The emotions tumbled one over the other through me—grateful for everything, for nothing. For just being, and feeling selfish for that gratitude because it meant she lacked the freedom to just live her life. Confusion and an overwhelming sense of no value, of not having spent my life wisely, being a better person, of wondering what I wouldn't be able to do tomorrow or even later today. All evident in her expression—the soul truly is seen in the depths of the eyes.

And then her daughter walked out, smiled and asked her mom if she was okay. Tears welled in the woman's eyes and she blinked hard, smiled brightly and said she was fine. The daughter looked relieved. The mother did, too.

I was enlightened.

It's been a decade since my mother passed away, and during her lengthy illness, I knew she'd had many of these feelings; we talked about them. I've always been perplexed by her death. She'd been released from the hospital and moved to a facility to regain strength, after which she'd be ready to go home. Only she died instead and there's never been a totally logical explanation. At least, there hadn't been until now. Until I saw all I did in that stranger's eyes. She wasn't depressed; she still laughed easily and often. But fighting the weakness, the limitations, the loss of so many she loved . . . she was ready.

I thought on this for days and applied the insight to other people. Even to my beloved Weimer, Alex. She instinctively knew when she was injured not to walk up the steps. She instinctively knew when she was too old to go up them anymore, to jump up on the unforbidden—hubby's recliner—which she'd done her entire life. When she was ready, she changed a lifetime daily habit. Rather than going to bed that night in her bed beside mine, she went into a different bedroom alone—my mother's room, and lay on the floor at the foot of her bed. Nothing could coax her into her own bed, which was far more comfortable.

Realizing that brought to mind sitting at my dying father's bedside, willing him to live. When I reached for his hand, he gently whispered, "Don't touch me, Tiger." I hadn't understood that, then. But he too was ready and detaching from those things here that made him want to linger. He was ready.

And all three, parents and pet, understood instinctively that to each thing there really is a season—and when it is coming to a natural end, one knows. They'd fought the good fight, during fighting season, but when it had passed, they all just stopped breathing, just let go. No fear, no anger, only peace.

They knew instinctively. But entrenched in life, it took me ten years to discover answers to lingering questions and to gain this unexpected insight.

That it came from a simple trip to the restroom proves that everywhere, as well as everything, is fodder.

Blessings,

Vicki

Vicki Hinze

WRITING SHORTCUTS AND HIDDEN GEMS

An interesting question was put to me a few days ago, and determining a thoughtful, honest response to it has taken time. I had to think, ponder, explore. But finally, I have a firm grip--at least, a firm grip that reflects reality to me. Your reality might be different. (I secretly hope that it is!)

The question? What writing shortcuts have you learned that can help me?

The short answer: There are none. None. Not one. Not a hint of one. Not a whiff of a sniff of a hint of one.

Writing is craft but also art, and art requires its due. You can rush it, and not focus intently enough to unearth the gems. You can nip and tuck and automate creating novel elements to shorten the process and then toss those elements together in a faster fashion, but to get to the core of those elements, you’re going to eventually have to slow down and focus intently so that you--you got it--unearth the hidden gems.

This goes beyond craft and into storytelling. That’s the art, and a gift, and you either have it or you don’t. Storytelling can’t be taught. It’s that still, quiet voice that tells the author, “You’re on the right track. This is significant. This is of value. This is infused with purpose.” It’s that drumbeat that matches the beat of your heart that thuds and echoes in your ears, signaling you that you’ve hit the mark, touched a core truth that otherwise would remain hidden. It’s that bubble in your gut, that burning that starts at the back of your nose and stings your eyes just before they fill with tears.

Some things can’t be rushed. Won’t be denied their time in the sun. Demand their due. The creative writing process is like that.

It’s the embodiment of the human condition. It encompasses all we were, are, and can be. It’s our dreams, hopes and fears personified.

It’s also why some books come to us in a flash--like a lightning strike. One minute we have nothing, the next the creation process is done and we’ve experienced an entire novel--or series of novels--in our heads. Then we work out the details. Then we begin the discovery of the hidden gems.

And it’s why some books take years and years to write. We work on them, focus and give them all we have to give, but we know they’re just not ready. We know there are underpinings yet to be discovered, and often we must wait for something to happen in our own lives that reveals them to us by giving us some new insight or perspective that lifts the scales from our eyes so we’re able to see that core truth.

There are no short cuts in writing.

There are many, many short cuts on the business end of writing, in the methods implemented to lay the groundwork for writing. But the writing itself allows none.

And for that, we should be grateful. Why? Because each project we are dedicated enough to take from a thought to fruition is a project in which there are hidden gems--ones that speak core truths to us and to our readers.

That is the reason we write. So the answer to the question is there are no shortcuts, but the journey is worth every effort because there are many, many hidden gems.

Blessings,

Vicki