Tag: frustration

A Writer’s Character Secret

Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me.  When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write.  I write for relaxation. 

A Writer’s Character Secret

September 21, 2022

Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me.  When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write.  I write for relaxation.  It feels fun, challenging, and often makes me happy to be in my ”book worlds” I have made up. 

For me, my “book worlds” allow me to explore things I can’t in this life.  It’s like dreaming with my eyes open.  I switch from book in progress to book in progress – I am currently working on about 18 titles actively.  My mood in real life decides whom I want to step into in my brain.  I know where each of my characters are in the stories – I know where I left them.  Thus, I reread the last few paragraphs and dive in with whatever comes next. 

Like my teenage self – lots of writing done then.  I started when my father noticed I was “wasting” my school notebooks for stories, and he suggested I type them.  I had a shoebox filled with 3.5”disks containing three or four stories each! 

Imagine:

Her frustrations, emotions, dreams, adventurous spirit, and everything hidden deep within her as she worked her way through these books were laid out in her own stories tapped at a furiously increasing pace in MS Works on her father’s computer saved on a 3.5” disk.  Her first completed story was her take on a true abortion survivor story.  She became her characters.  Her characters acted out and solved the problems she was facing.  She talked and acted her characters and plotlines out while raking, mowing, or gardening in various locations.  She was Erakk.  Fighting to keep his character sound when faced with odd decisions he’d rather avoid.  She was Jordan.  Her desperate heart cry to be understood and learn how to teach bloomed from his soul in what was to become “Web of Deception.”  She was Kelly.  She was the girl struggling to lead and keep everyone together as their tiny band of outcast survivors developed a whole new world of peace and love.  She became Kelly.  The woman who mothers with an understanding she has gained from life and full dependence on Jesus.  She was Kalina.  She boiled with anger and frustration at not being allowed to do the things she desired with every fiber of her being and ended up learning that what she really wanted was only a small step in a journey back to what her elders had advised her to reach for in the first place.  She was Ethan.  An outcast in his own mind searching quietly for a sense of belonging he thinks he can make on his own despite the true reality that those close to him care deeply for him.  She was Jamie.  Facing challenges that feel too far above his age and making choices that defy the expectations of those above him; always choosing the answer of integrity and honor.  She became Philip.  Overcoming challenges in life that happened beyond his control yet bringing everyone along and pushing his family through to success in the end.  She was Jo.  Fiercely defending her sister from evils that trick the heart and destroy those close to her – blinding everyone except her.  She was Jason.  Defending his family from evils that weaseled their way into his family from years of incorrect choices by three generations behind him that build to forcing his father into being possessed into something he isn’t – now he has to choose to believe that the threads he holds onto are his father’s true self and force the evil away. 

The stories continue.  Some are finished.  Some may never be…

A writer puts himself into the shoes of his characters and wriggles his toes around.  We walk lifetimes in their shoes.  We put ourselves in each character we create. 

I always have a character in a book or series that I consider my shadow; sometimes it is the protagonist like Jordan in Web of Deception.  Sometimes it is a supporting character like Philip Duggar in Brantley Station Saga or Kelly in The Devonians. 

Oftentimes there are bits of me in each character.  Strange thoughts…

I know, crazy writer’s brain, but that’s what I feel.  That’s what it’s like to write for me. 

If you stuck through this one, thank you ever so much for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Rubik’s Cube

Is life like a Rubik’s Cube?

August 15, 2020

Rubik’s Cube

Jillian’s friend gave her a Rubik’s Cube to solve. After a full day off and on of spending probably two or three hours attempting it, Jillian gave it to Jaquline and said, “this puzzle is too complicated!”

Jaquline has been trying her hand at it since. She’s one of those kids who stick to the problem until it gets solved so I’m sure eventually she will figure it out. On the way to work this morning Christina and I hear, “oh really!” and a wail.

“What?” we both ask.

“I was sooooo close!” and she passes the cube to Christina in the front seat with one side one square from being all one color. Christina, who has solved a few Rubik’s Cubes in her time, suggests, “start with the corners and try to match the colors two blocks at a time.”

Another wail a few seconds later and the furious almost silent swish, tap, tap, swish of the plastic blocks being moved around. Another wail. Swish, tap, tap, tap… “Yes!” Tap, tap, swish, swish. Dramatic groan, “this is too complicated.”

Encouragement from the front seat, “you can get it,” and “keep trying!”

“Roll On” by Alabama comes through my head.

Life sometimes seems like a Rubik’s Cube.

You get everything lined up the way you think it should be and turn the corner to discover… bam! It isn’t lined up! Fix that problem and solve that issue, turn another corner and nothing looks in order. Changes happen. I think of watching a younger friend when I was younger. He could solve the cube in whatever mess it was within what appeared to be a few twists.

All of us in life have been given Rubik’s Cubes aka “Life” to solve and various levels of frustration mount as we try to solve the puzzle by ourselves. Sometimes everything looks like it is lining up, but we turn a corner and look at a mess. Sometimes we created it, sometimes we didn’t have any control over it, sometimes it was messed up by someone we love or trusted. It isn’t lining up the way we wanted.

The first normal reaction is irritation and frustration – that stage where we try to fix it ourselves by pulling us up by our own bootstraps. In my experience those bootstraps generally tangle us up instead of help us regain our footing. I imagine we are pulling our footing right out from under ourselves – funny, right?

Or we could play the blame game – doesn’t solve anything and only makes us feel bad and alienate us from whomever we consider “the problem.”

Or we could hand our Rubik’s Cube of life to God and let Him direct our puzzle. This is like watching a master puzzle solver. Swish. tap. tap. swish. That looks worse… Tap. tap. swish. swish. Wow. How is that possible? Now all sides are each a solid color.

It looks like magic in the master’s hands.

Next time I feel like wailing because something just isn’t lining up, I hope I remember that image of the Rubik’s Cube in a master puzzle solver’s hands and think of how my life is like a Rubik’s Cube and I need to hand it to God and let Him solve my crazy mess – lead me the way He wants my life to go and then I can see the beauty of order only He can see in my chaos.

Crazy writer’s brain thoughts, I know, but hopefully it makes you smile.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Wimpy Atlas

Ever feel like everything in the world is raining down on your shoulders and you can’t keep anything up? That was today…

December 20, 2018

Wimpy Atlas

Am I the only one who feels like Atlas with wimpy shoulders sometimes?

Yesterday was a good example:

I got up at 5:30am to work, the guy cancels as I’m just on the road.  Bummer.

Get back home, waste of a half-hour prep and 20 minutes gas and time, but I try to stay positive.  My breathing flared up; can’t lay down to go back to sleep.  Grrrrr… hot tea and honey while I work on my character cards for the 6th in The Devonians – 26 characters in this one because it is set during a community planting season.

I write a program for translating ages – this will make future work easier.   I had my tea.  I hoped I would avoid having to take the allergy pill (discovered a natural antihistamine as I’m allergic to both Benadryl and the emergency inhaler I was supposed to be taking 4 times a day, but I still prefer not to take anything).   I pick up the second ride.  I’ve now made $20.

I chose not to dwell on sad things pinging around the back of my brain.

But when I got home about 11, I was starved.  I made my Shakeology because Louis wasn’t hungry (the kids had already eaten, and I wasn’t going to make a whole breakfast just for me).  Louis took the next call so I could finish eating.  I gathered all my stuff into neat little piles so I could use my tools to guide my story.  Christina needed help on an Algebra problem so I set my Shakeology cup down.

But… (that word NOT in the positive this time!)

As I finished with Christina’s problem *BAM* I turned and knocked the full Shakeology cup over ($3.50 meal – I hate waste)!   *SPLASH* the broken blinds, the window, the lamp, the wall, EVERY ONE of my 26 cards, my hand-written “cheat sheet” I’d created almost a year ago for the Devonians families, and the floor are covered in goo.  Imagine slightly soupy pudding – that’s the consistency of Shakeology + coffee.

Immediately, as quickly as the drops of fluid, everything negative that I was trying to hold back rained down on my brain.

The evening before, Mom got Daddy’s ashes… all that’s left of his body is in two boxes on her table.

Didn’t get to stop by Mom’s on the way home (*thoughts* you are a horrible daughter.)

Didn’t get to snuggle on the couch with Lucas because I was cleaning while he fell asleep (horrible mom.)

Didn’t get to fix my pie or anything to take to the party (horrible guest.)

I had to drive in the morning but only had two calls & the would-be big one canceled (horrible provider.)

Lucas wanted me to play trains… I was busy teaching (again, you never play with him!)

…and on and on and on… my brain just rained down things I wished I could have done differently, things I wanted to do but hadn’t, and things I should have done.

I felt like the world was falling on my shoulders and squishing me flat.

Now I was hungry, it was noon, and the very next call was “make some rice for lunch” because we had one pound of beef in the freezer and “stir-fry would be good.”  All I wanted was to type my frustrations out and make another Shakeology to actually eat.  I wanted to get to my vitamin shake before I went to work at 2. (I was leaving early to stop by my mom’s today!)

I read somewhere that a mother is the Chief Mood Officer in her home.  When I start getting lost in emotion, I remind myself of that.  I turned on Christmas music, started cleaning so I could start rice, and prayed I’d be able to pull my own mood up (and keep the house from growing dark).  My siblings’ party is tomorrow.  I can choose to shift my focus on the positive.  Hopefully it works!

*By the way* I didn’t get my shake until I was on the way to work, my mom wasn’t home when I got to her house, and on… BUT I was working playroom so had brought my Devonians folder and was able to use the 40 “lost” minutes to recreate some of the destroyed cards.  I forced myself to focus on the positive again… this week has been a constant challenge for me.  God.  God is totally in control. (I just need to lean on Him – His shoulders are not weak.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

An Attitude of Gratitude

June 24, 2018

Attitude of Gratitude

Have you ever felt depressed because something you planned for didn’t come to pass?  Something you wanted to do with someone didn’t pan out?  Have you ever thought you did everything you could but were still shoved down?

Sometimes an unexpected illness happens even when you are doing everything to keep yourself healthy.  That causes mountains of bills.  Maybe we are contract employees or making “too much” to qualify for assistance, yet we can’t afford insurance premiums.  Sometimes, even an insurance policy doesn’t help much.  Maybe, it turns $40K bills into $14K with “rate adjustments.” (That’s still $14,000!)   You thank God for discovering the cause and pray you can manage the enemy that infects your home so you can breathe.

Bills that big can bankrupt people.  Some medical providers will work with a former patient to take monthly payments.  But for some families, the additional $200 or $300 a month means no food.  (Yes, most will take $25 or $50 a month, but when you have six or eight different bills from one visit, that adds up to a lot.)   You know you have to pay it.  But you can’t manage it.  You can’t even go afford to visit the doctor for the required “follow-up.” You just pray.

Fiscally responsible people cancel all unnecessary expenses.  But when your annual clothing budget of $50 is already gone, you don’t go out to eat, you don’t do theaters, you don’t buy new things, you haven’t even replaced your broken couch with a $50 resale one, and you already spend less than $350 a month for food for 8 people, all you can do is cut food.  You just pray.

Or try to get a higher paying job.

But you’ve been applying for every job you think you have qualifications for in north and central Florida for over 20 months with only one interview and three emails claiming: “you are overqualified.”  That’s seriously frustrating.  You have no experience with “foodservice” or “retail” and all those jobs want experience.  You just keep applying; you pray each time you email, drop-off, or hand-in an application.  You pray God’s will for your job life and pray He opens a door for you.   You’ve expanded from a 20 mile commute to a 100 mile commute.  You just pray.

You can look for cheaper housing – but that’s hard when you are paying less than what you’d be required to pay for an income-restricted apartment.  You keep looking, but really don’t have any money to move anyway.  The home you’re renting is the cause of your medical illness and thus financial problems, so yes, you’d like to leave it; you just can’t afford to.  You just pray.

This is the time when it’s very hard to really mean “I’m believing God for my needs.”

Then you had planned to go visit family for a couple of days, but because of another unexpected expense, you find you won’t have the gas money to go.  Besides, if you miss work, you’ll just fall further behind in bills.

This is when you bury your head in your hands and scream.  You’ve been trying everything humanly possible, or so it seems, and something that appears it would be so simple for most people is just out of your grasp.  Driving 10 hours to visit your brother might as well be a mission to Mars.

You may not have control on the circumstances that have put you here, but you can control your attitude (how you handle this stage of life).

This is when you have to remember to encourage yourself.  You have to say “God, you are my Rock, my fortress, my help in time of trouble.  God, you are my provider, my father, and I thank you for life, health, and provision.”

You choose an attitude of gratitude.

You have to take stock in what you do have: you have a roof (even if it’s the cause of health issues you’ve never had), you have a job (your “unofficial second job” is what you love; just no paycheck yet), your children are doing well, your marriage is strong, and you have family and friends who love you.

The last three are the most important.

Family is life.

Money is just a currency of this world to give us stress.  We either stress because we don’t have enough and literally pray for our daily bread or stress because we have too much and worry about losing it.

I can choose to have an attitude of gratitude, be thankful for what God has gifted me and trust Him for everything else.  I want my children to see thankfulness and trust. This attitude works for every stage in life – valleys full of bills and mountains with plenty.

I choose gratitude – I choose to smile.  I choose to trust. I choose to rejoice.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Butterfly Dryer

June 22, 2017

Butterfly Dryer

My Dad calls them “butterflies.”

Little coincidences that God orchestrates just so.

It’s almost like God says “I know you need this, here you go.”  It can be something simple like a kind word or a child’s smile, something amazing like trust, belief, or healing, or something material like as awesome book, a home, a bonus, or a ride.

The latest for me was a dryer.

I do love to hang-dry clothes.  I love being outside, I love the fresh smell the clothes have, and I love having time to meditate (because hanging clothes is something I could do blindfolded).  The only thing I don’t like about it is the time it takes from other things.

Yesterday, I thought I was keeping up on everything; I would clean the house, go out to hang a load of clothes, come back in, and a new tornado had spun through.  We’d clean up again, work on school as the washer did its magic, and I’d gather the younglings and go back out to take off clothes and hang out new ones.  This cycle continued – between answering calls and hanging clothes, it appeared there was time for little else. (Of course, there was cleaning, cooking, and school work also done.)

Lucas bumped his head while I was outside getting the last load (the girls had him inside to escape the mosquitoes) and he spent about 30 minutes screaming “NO ICE!” at the height of his vocal strength while we sang “1, 2, buckle my shoe” to distract him while applying ice; so an hour later, in total frustration over this days’ craziness, I announced I needed a dryer to have more time.  As I was saying this (and running down the hall after Lucas to make sure he didn’t fall in the potty), I missed a call from my Mom.  She wanted to know if we wanted her dryer.  (I hadn’t told anyone else I needed a dryer, but several knew we didn’t have one.)

I laughed as I thought of my silliness.  Call it a coincidence, butterfly, or whatever – actually it felt like a hug from God.  As if He were telling me, “I see your frustration; don’t let a little thing like this bother you, I love you.”

It isn’t really the dryer so much as it was God’s impeccable timing.  He already knew these events would go as they did and knew me well enough to know I would be frustrated at my lack of time management (I sometimes wish for a 30 hour day, but I’d fill that up too).  The perfectly timed phone call was just a reminder that nothing is out of God’s sight.  I need to trust a little more and worry (or be frustrated!) a lot less.  I’m not perfect, but I know who is.  And I get to call him Abba (Daddy, Father).

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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