Thinking Back to Ponies, Pigs, and a Wurlitzer Organ

 I was obsessed with horses as a kid. I owned nearly forty Grand Champion horse figurines, read countless books on horses, both fiction and nonfiction, and pretended my bicycle was a horse on numerous occasions. The obsession took a slight hit in third grade when I fell off a pony and separated my elbow from my upper arm, necessitating surgery, but I've still always loved looking at horses. However, casual horse riding is an expensive gig, and I'm not an expensive gal. So what can replace the desire to ride a majestic horse? How about riding a majestic carousel? Okay, okay, not quite the same experience, but you can also ride dogs, chickens, pigs, and other vividly-colored wooden figurines. At least that's the case with Story City's antique carousel. 

I have lived within an hour of Story City, Iowa for over fifteen years, but I had never visited the iconic carousel until this past summer when my family stopped there on our way home from vacation in the Wisconsin Dells. Sure, it was for research for my book Road Maps, but it ended up being one of our favorite family vacation moments for many reasons. 

To begin, the carousel is beautiful. The oldest carousel in Iowa was originally built in 1913, purchased by Story City in 1938, and restored and moved to North Park in 1982. With twenty-six colorful figurines to choose from, you are going to want to ride multiple times, enjoying the three-minute ride on the back of different steeds. And it's only $1 a ride! I don't know of any other worthwhile, family-friendly entertainment that can beat that price. And this is not a toddler's paced ride. No, I was quite shocked at the ride's fast clip. Shocked, but exhilarated. 

Another whimsical feature is the music coming from the 1936 Wurlitzer Military Band. The whole experience is a sensory transport back to a more innocent time, where children played outside and communities came together to enjoy the simple, yet fantastical joys of life. 

I included Story City's carousel in my book not just because it is one of Iowa's best hidden gems, but because of the magic it represents. It makes you feel like a child again, and while I was writing about Logan Sterling's journey across Iowa with her father, I wanted to capture that everlasting feeling of being a little kid when with your parent, no matter how old or how strained the relationship. An unexpected tie to my dad also arose when I found out the carousel was built in Tonawanda, New York which is the town right across from Grand Island where I spent every summer as a child visiting my dad. It felt meant to be, and something about riding that carousel with my children rejuvenated my soul more than I ever thought possible. 

So many joyous feelings and memories flooded me while riding the carousel. And while it might not be the same as riding a real horse, the experience was just as enjoyable and poignant. Please enjoy this excerpt of Road Maps, featuring Story City's antique carousel:

Nighttime has transformed the carousel into a magical wonder. Vintage light bulbs illuminate the interior, twinkles of light reflecting off the golden poles and glossy figures filling the space with whimsical nostalgia.  

“Which one do you want?” Tom asks, his voice respectfully quiet in the shrine of childhood amazement. 

I take in the options: dogs with outspread legs as if running through a field; toothy-grinned pigs rearing their heads up mischievously toward a potential rider; chickens that capture a realistic look of concern and hurry; and the classic horses, nostrils flared and mouths open with spirited abandon. I step up to a cream colored horse with a red saddle, sliding my hands over the smooth veneer, moving it up to trace the divots of the carved mane. 

“Hop on!” Tom places his hand at the small of my back as I mount the horse. He then climbs atop the one next to me and signals to Rick to push the button, the carousel coasting to life. 

The carousel moves around as the figures dip up and down, my stomach experiencing the slightest flip from the repetitive motion. We’re moving in a circle, resigned to a perpetual path of redundancy, but I feel truly free, as if I were riding an actual horse out in a field, the wind whipping my face and all worries leaving my body. The circus music manages to capture every happy memory from childhood and bottle it within the bright, jaunty notes pouring from the antique Wurlitzer organ, an attached drum pounding out the beat. My once-tight grip on the pole loosens as I relax into the motion, and my face is broken in half with my grin. I finally turn to take in Tom, expecting to see him looking forward, experiencing his own mid-life rejuvenation, but instead, he’s staring at me, his face mirroring my delight. He leans over the aisle and asks loudly, “So you like it?”

All I can do is nod vigorously, and I turn forward to close my eyes and enjoy the rest of the ride.

Bad Mood Journaling and Taking Control

 I have been in a horrible mood today. I'm depressed, I'm short, I'm just downright done with everything. There's many reasons this cloud has settled over me today:

1) A not-so-successful book event has left me feeling like a failure, doubting the investment of my time, money, and energy into a cruel endeavor such as writing

2) Feeling unsettled due to upcoming floor renovations on the main floor of our house, resulting in our clearing of all our kitchen appliances, kitchen and dining furniture, and TONS of knick knacks. 

3) The end of my spring break in which I didn't go on a vacation, but rather stayed at home with the capricious Iowa weather which was not on our side. In short, my children and I have extreme cabin fever and need to be separated. 

4) Communication issues with students about an upcoming speech event leaving me scrambling, asking for favors, and possibly accepting the fact that I will have not one but two students unable to perform due to my ignorance of other events going on in the state. 

5) Just a general malaise that could be attributed to hormones, season affect disorder, stress, or other situation factors. 

I'm a person that likes to have my belongings and life in order. If not, I feel as if I've lost control, which is my ultimate nightmare. Maybe that's why I enjoy writing so much; I have control over the story and am able to write the characters and endings as I want. Or maybe I'm trying to teach myself some of those life lessons since I do like to throw my characters into chaos. Hmmm...

I know I can't control everything (at least I tell myself that) and I understand that I have a good life, that I shouldn't feel so down about these things, but my discomfort has been unshakeable. So what's to be done? Maybe writing and taking control of the situation will help me process and move on. Okay, let's turn these issues around:

1) I have had the opportunity to publish a book, many people have purchased it, and many have enjoyed it. I believe in the story, so I should be proud of my endeavors and just keep trying, knowing that there will be ups and downs and at least I have the ability and support to participate in book events.

2) Hopefully, my floors will look beautiful, and all my belongings will be returned to their original places. And my husband is on vacation, so he can probably do most of the moving...

3) At least I had a spring break and time with my children. And there's summer break to look forward to, as well as a family trip to Gatlinburg. I have a pretty sweet schedule in having time off and I should treasure rather than bemoan it while comparing to others' more exotic trips. 

4) If students don't get to perform, it's not going to affect me, nor them. There's no point dwelling. And, there's always next year, and I'll do better with scheduling. 

5) Spring is here; summer is close. There are sunny days in the future. We just bought bicycles so we can enjoy upcoming nice days. And I have a birthday coming up, and I feel and look good for my age. 

So, yeah, that actually helped. Putting words on the page and casting my feelings from my heart and brain to a easel beyond me has left me feeling a bit freer, a little lighter. 

Bad moods happen. Disappointment occurs. But there's also a natural cycle to life, and writing about the positive does seem to have knocked the pendulum back, so here's to a new season, a new week, and hopefully new opportunities coming my way. 

Shrine of the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend, IA

One of my favorite places to visit this past summer while researching for my book Road Maps was the Shrine of the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend, Iowa. While it is a Catholic structure, I recommend it for anyone of any religion. The spiritual connection there surpasses any religious denomination limitations, and it's inspiring that such a structure came from the devoted mind and dexterous hands of mankind. You can find more information on the Shrine at its website here: https://www.westbendgrotto.com/ but it is definitely something that should be seen in person. Pictures do not do it justice. 

Father Paul Matthias Dobberstein began working on the Shrine in 1912. Over a century later, it is now composed of nine grottos and materials ranging from petrified wood, malachite, azurite, agates, geodes, jasper, quartz, topaz, calcite, stalactites, stalagmites, and more. It is quite a feat of artistry, religion, and human dedication. 

In Road Maps, Logan Sterling and her father visit the Shrine of the Grotto of the Redemption while on their father-daughter journey across the state of Iowa. Previously estranged for ten years, Logan's father reaches out, hoping to reconnect before he dies of a terminal illness. Logan writes a book about this journey, which gets made into a movie five years after the events. Here is an excerpt from my upcoming novel Road Maps, which is written includes excerpts of Logan's novel Iowa Nice. I hope you enjoy this sneak peek, and if you get the chance to visit West Bend yourself, I'd love to hear about your experience. 

Excerpt from Iowa Nice
West Bend

Religion has always been a nebulous concept for me. There’s too many options for me to choose just one. It’s like an ice cream counter, and I’m being handed tiny spoon samples of each. But I’m afraid if I commit to one and get a larger scoop, there’s going to be some part of it I don’t like, an ingredient that didn’t make its way into the sample. Or maybe I’ll get sick of the taste before I finish, overwhelmed by too much of a supposedly good thing. 

My eyes are bigger than my stomach when gazing upon the spiritual smorgasbord of life, and I am worried I’ll be left with a horrendous stomach ache if I actually start to fill my plate. 

But it’s difficult not to dive into the buffet of belief when surrounded by such unique beauty and sheer will of faith while traversing the path through the artistic geologic wonder that is the Shrine of the Grotto of the Redemption. I’ve lost sight of Dad, having given him some space after realizing he was in one of his moods again: reflective, quiet, testy. These moods have only increased. We’ve started renting separate hotel rooms when available, not because we necessarily need the space from one another, but because Dad’s sleep is interrupted and fitful. He exists in a perpetual state of exhaustion and insomnia, desiring nothing more than rest, but unable to drift away into slumber when given the chance. He’s taken to napping in the passenger seat more, which has given me loads of quiet time while driving. 

I loathe it. 

Quiet time means dealing with the demons of my past: my mistakes, failings, and regrets. Things that might be aided by some grasp of theology, but alas, I’m still empty-handed. However, being here, in this meticulously made structure of stone, minerals, and petrified wood; it’s easy to see how many people have gained solace from religious structure. 

I stop on the path, surrounded by the stations of the cross, a passageway constructed of fourteen scenes depicting Jesus’ journey from when he was condemned to death to when he finally met his fate. To know one is dying, a curse and a blessing. And though Mac McClarnon is no Christlike figure, I am aware of the tangential similarities of the grotto’s story and anyone diagnosed with a terminal illness. 

That’s what my dad is doing, marching through his own stations of the cross, and though I am on this journey with him currently, eventually he’ll be on his own. And so will I. 

Almost makes one want to find religion. 

Road Maps out Fall 2025.

Music as Inspiration and Life

 Music is so incredibly important to me. I know, I know, most people would say, "Of course, I enjoy music. I'm not a heartless robot." And while I agree, most people do love music and find it important in life, I'm not being hyperbolic when I say it is like breathing for me. Singing, dancing, just listening to music can awaken my soul in a way nothing else can, the exception being the sound of my children's laughter. But even their laughter has a musical lilt to it, a rhythm that dives right into my heart, exuding warmth through my entire body. 

I sing all the time. And I mean All. The. Time. Yesterday, I even walked in on my husband and son having a conversation in which they were discussing how much I sing in the house. (I guess I was singing in the shower upstairs and it carried through to the kitchen). But I'm not going to apologize. Because singing makes me happy, and I think my singing can make others happy, too. Not too brag, (okay, maybe a little), but I am vocally trained and I've been singing in front of audiences since I was five, have won multiple talent awards, and have sang everything from country to classical to musical theatre to opera. Okay, enough about me (Just kidding. This blog is about me, so I'll just keep going.) Why do I love singing, dancing, and all things music? The emotion, of course. The ability for a chord, a note, a lyric to direct you to an emotional response, send you into a vivid memory, or ignite the fires of your creative brain. 

When I am writing, I like to drown myself in the music that matches the tone, the time, and the situations of my story. And because I see my novels as movies in my head when I am writing, it only makes sense that I have a movie soundtrack in mind, as well. 

For Another Dance, I curated a Spotify playlist to capture the songs that are mentioned in the story, as well as the ones that inspired my writing and match the piece tonally. Feel free to listen to the playlist here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TE0xzcZjloeObXbKzEI89?si=Qm5c17f8SOai9LxpVE0vFQ&pt=bfdce24aeccdf9c798331d326fe7441c&pi=22gI3_MUT5CSx

While I could talk about music ad nauseam, I will try to keep this brief, but I did want to touch upon some of the songs and their importance to me and my novel. 

OneRepublic is largely featured in the novel because I absolutely adore their music, but also because of my husband's and my shared experience with them. We were huge fans of Songland, the song writing reality show that featured Ryan Tedder as one of the regular producers. (I'm still salty about only getting two seasons). Seeing how talented Tedder is as a producer, writer, and musician as well as seeing how kind and collaborative he is made both of us fall in love with him. We were probably passive fans of OneRepublic before, but graduated to avid fans who sought out Ryan Tedder's projects. That's the main reason I named them as Annie and Jason's favorite musical group. That, and how well the music matched the scenes.  Especially the one scene. (If you know, you know). 

Some songs are included because they are great ballroom dance tracks or because of my own affinity for them: 

• Bruno Mars' "Just the Way You Are" makes me smile because of its message as well as my memory of an eighth grade student doing a lip sync in drama class while directing the lyrics at a large bear 
• "Por Una Cabeza" IS the classic tango song, and I can't help but think about Jamie Lee Curtis and Arnold Schwarzenegger dancing to it in the movie True Lies (which I probably watched while I was way too young)
• Music from Fantasia because some of those scenes are burned into my memory (ballerina hippos and a giant Satan are just a couple of the images I still see when I close my eyes)
• Music from Disney's Zombies because my children and I both love the series, the music is downright catchy, and I developed a totally-appropriate-not-weird-at-all crush on the lead actor which ultimately inspired the character and name for Milo Warner (Don't. Judge. Me). 
• Music from Rent as Milo stars in a production during his and Annie's courtship (And I love Rent and wish I was still young enough to audition and actually have a chance of being cast. Seriously, I would take any of the female characters, but preferably Mimi or Maureen). 

Finally, there are songs that just match the mood of the story, while capturing the same feelings that Annie goes through in the book:

• Maroon 5's "She Will Be Loved" depicts the plight of a woman who can't always see through the dark times, or see what is right in front of her
  
• Coldplay's melancholy and haunting tones have definitely been the soundtrack to some of my more somber times in life. (My husband doesn't understand my obsession with sad music...or sad movies...or sad books. Maybe there's a deeper issue there...)
• "Chasing Cars" is a love song that can barely continue the joy we feel when at the stage of relationships where we can make any promise and think we can keep it
• "Dancing With Your Shadows," a song Phillip Phillips wrote for his wife when she suffered from postpartum depression, matches Annie's struggle as she tries to shake free of grief and just needs someone to meet her in the shadows in order to bring her to the light
• Up completely destroys me and every other viewer in the first musical montage, so why not include the theme that perfectly describes the highs and lows of a relationship ending in a partner's death. (It's not a spoiler that Jason is deceased, but the fact that I make readers get to know and love him in flashbacks is just a diabolical twist of the knife)

I could go on and on about my song choices (I told you, I. LOVE. MUSIC.) but I have to go and try to put my kids to bed, even though it's Daylight Savings and they're never going to go to sleep at their regular time. And ironically, they are listening to music on our Alexa and Benson Boone's "Beautiful Things" is on, which I think is a great sign. Music is one of the many beautiful things in life, and I've thoroughly enjoyed this dissection of my playlist pickings. If you've made it this far, I hope this has given you a glimpse into my process when trying to transfer my daydreaming thoughts into a full-length novel, and, if...no, no...when Another Dance gets made into a movie, there's already a start on the soundtrack. (And maybe they'll let me sneak in as a background actor. I'd even take a singing role in Milo's Rent cast...or if the public really wants it, I guess I'd take the lead...)

To me, music is life, and if you read Another Dance, I hope you also take the time to dive into the playlist and let the book come to life for you. 

Writing Takes Research

Writing takes research. Even fiction writing. For some writers, that's the fun part. I know some historical fiction authors who love diving into research, learning all they can about a certain time, person, or event in the past. Mystery and fictional crime authors have to know the forensic and legal procedures. But what could there possibly be to research for romance and women's fiction? 

Well, lots apparently. So maybe the romance part can be completely construed, but it still helps to have some knowledge on relationship dynamics whether through real-life experiences or reading-for-research/pleasure. But to write a complex novel with round characters, they need to have developed careers, hobbies, interests, and more. 

While I'm not the most enthusiastic researcher, I will do it for the story. For Another Dance, I spent most of my time researching the dance moves and jargon associated with ballroom dance. As Annie learns the dance steps, I needed it to be realistic that the instructor would use the proper terms, and I also needed to be able to describe the moves visually. I spent a lot of time watching instructional dance videos on YouTube, pausing to study and capture the body movement. I also researched military basics, nurse procedures and training, group therapy, and the effects of pharmaceutical drugs. It was all interesting to learn about, and I'm happy with how I was able to weave my newfound knowledge into my story, but I discovered a much more enjoyable type of research for my upcoming novel Road Maps. 

For Road Maps, I had the real life experience of dealing with the sudden death of my estranged father, so no need for research there. But I did have to use my best Googling skills to learn about filmmaking, screenplay writing, and movie production. (I'm sure my rendition might break some rules, but it's also fiction, so a few broken rules won't hurt anyone). However, the best part of research was actually visiting roadside attractions in Iowa in order to properly describe the feeling of being there. My family joined me on this adventure, and we had an amazing time exploring our home state. Places we visited include the following:

• Squirrel Cage Jail in Council Bluffs
• 
  Blue Bunny ice cream parlor in Le Mars
  
• carousel in Story City
• 
  Buddy Holly memorial in Clear Lake
• 
   Field of Dreams movie set in Dyersville
  
• Fenelon Elevator in Dubuque
• 
  Shrine of the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend
  
• American Gothic House in Eldon
• 
  and more!

In the next few weeks, I'll share more pictures and stories from our excursions as I dive into the editing and revision process of Road Maps. As I share our researched experiences, I hope to be transported back to those visits and further influence my story building and refining.

Writing takes research, but research can also take you on adventures and I look forward to sharing mine with you! 

Failure and Rationalizing

 I've been feeling bad about myself lately. When I am seemingly "failing" at one of my goals, I internalize all that failure and guilt and react in one of two ways: mope around and whine about not being productive, or overcorrect and stress myself out by trying to accomplish ALL the things. 

And, no matter what direction I take, I ALWAYS complain to my husband about my inadequacies. Because he's used to these rants, he usually stays quiet, so I carry on the other side of the conversation, as well, rationalizing why I haven't been productive. 

*I'm in the middle of my busy time at work, with speech competitions every week

*The kids have a lot going on

*I have so many chores to catch up on

*Laundry, laundry, laundry!

*I'm just not in the headspace to write

*I'm just not in the headspace to market

*I'm just not in the headspace to grade, or lesson plan, or send emails...

Okay, okay, some of the excuses are pretty lame, but there is something to be said about having to balance work, home life, and passionate pursuits. It's tough! I already feel like I never have enough time, and I've now chosen to fill up my time even more with writing, book events, marketing. Am I just insane?

Yes. Yes, I am. 

But that's beside the point, and not the focus of this post. The focus of this post is my penchant for making excuses. 

But do I need to even bother making excuses? So what if I have an off-week? Does that make me a complete failure? Reading a book instead of writing could be seen as research. And choosing to play board games with my children makes me a good mom. Like, a really good mom. And watching television can be good for my mental health...unless it's reality TV. 

Okay, I'm rationalizing again. Instead, I just need to be unapologetic about my choices, realize I can always work towards my goals tomorrow, and trust myself to listen to what my mind, body, and family need. 

AND by writing this blog, I'm chiseling away at my goals. See, I can work through my mental demons and be productive at the same time! (Okay, I'm rationalizing...again.) 

Well, hopefully this self-berating/pep talk sticks for at least a week and I can forgive myself enough to accomplish...or not accomplish something this week. Crap. I'm back to it. Guess I'm a work-in-progress. But for right now, there's a load of laundry that needs my attention. 

Weaknesses, Writing, and Learning to Try

One of my weaknesses is that I don't like doing something if I'm not immediately good at it. I realize the limitations of this personality trait, believe me, I do. A huge regret in my life is that I never learned how to play guitar. I tried. My dad paid for lessons and bought me a beautiful instrument, but the company I attended for lessons kept switching up my instructors, and my fingers were too short to push all the strings down on those power chords. Anyway, inconsistent teachings and anatomical shortcomings led me to finally quit...as well as the fact that I just wasn't catching on...so I lost interest. 

Other hobbies and skills I gave up after quickly realizing my natural inadequacies: 

• driving stick shift
• skiing
• lifeguarding 
• living alone
• majoring in journalism
• functioning with manicured nails
• riddle-solving

It's a good thing I was pretty successful with writing right away. Okay, maybe not successful, but at least able to complete the task in a semi-decent way. And, boy, did I jump into the deep end! It started out with my desire to write, and the only way I saw the story in my head was as a mental movie that would be suited as a two-hour film or full novel. So I started writing and I completed my first novel Painting Walls. However, I was not immediately successful at obtaining a literary agent, so I went the self-publishing route (very different in 2013 than now). Then I started writing a sci-fi trilogy. Go big or go home! Well, I finished the first book, placed as a finalist in a contest, started writing the second installment, then stopped when I changed jobs and started having children. Guess I wasn't good at the trilogy-thing. 

However, I wasn't completed deterred, writing an ensemble for speech contest in 2017: a less-than-fifteen-minute play titled "Contentless Love", a love story reusing a content-less A/B acting scene for different stages of a relationship. It was nominated for All-State and my students performed it to perfection! I guess I was lucky with that first one, and a few years after having my second child, I went for it again. I've now written an All-State nominated One Act and two more ensembles (All-State nominations still to be seen). Oh, and I published Another Dance with Bookpress Publishing and am working on my second release Road Maps. 

So what is the point of all this? To brag about my writing and directing skills? Maybe. To thank my lucky stars that I stuck with something that takes vulnerability, failure, and self-doubt. For sure. But moreso, to reflect on my own strengths and weaknesses and re-evaluate how I go about life. If I can make a go of this writing-gig, a notoriously tough path filled with emotional and mental upheaval, and still keep a semblance of confidence, maybe I should revisit some of those past deserted hobbies. I really should try my hand at guitar again. It's not too late! Who knows, maybe my fingers grew longer. And maybe I should try to drive stick shift. My husband knows how; maybe he'll teach me (and hopefully our love will be able to endure). And I could go get a manicure! Sure, I won't wear pants with a fly since that was my original struggle, but sweatpants are so in-season right now. So I guess it only took forty years for me to build up enough tenacity to tackle new things that I may never conquer. I call that a win. 

But I will never ever try skiing again.  And why is that? you may ask. Well, that's a whole other story...and maybe a future blog post.