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Tristi's BLOG
Welcome to my BlogSpot – a place to learn more about me and see what I’ve been up to and what I’m thinking about. I warn you that sometimes, the things I’ve been up to are pretty boring and the things I’m thinking are pretty off the wall. I've decided to create a separate BLOG spot so that my webmaster is not having to update this on a regular basis. So to check out my daily blogs, go to: http://tristipinkst May 24th , 2006 I’ve been drifting around on the Web tonight, visiting some of my favorite blog spots. I especially like LDS Writers Blogck, put together by some of my friends from Author Incognito, a group of very talented authors who will put me out of a job someday. I enjoy LDS Publisher quite a bit, even though it’s frustrating not knowing her true identity. I’m positive that’s part of her appeal, the challenge of the unknown. (You can insert your own mysterious music here) But I have a confession to make. Sometimes I just don’t get it. I came on the scene a little late, only happening on these sites within the last few weeks. I’m trying to catch on, but I feel like I turned on the TV right in the middle of a movie and I haven’t figured it out yet. Who is The Frog? Who is Miss Snark? Who is the Evil Editor? I know Robison Wells, I know Jeffrey Savage and Stephanie Black and Julie Coulter Bellon and Kerry Lynn Blair. I’ve never met Sariah Wilson in person but we’ve chatted on other lists, so I’m fairly certain that she exists. But I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that The Frog really isn’t a frog at all. I just can’t imagine him typing with those little webbed fingers. Or maybe they have special keyboards, just for frogs? I really don’t know. Is the Evil Editor really evil? Should I be afraid? – Tristi
May 19th, 2006 I like to listen to the radio as I drive in the car. It’s the only place that’s quiet enough to actually hear what’s being played. I sing along to the Carpenters, Air Supply, Billy Joel. I also listen to the music that’s being written more recently, and I’ve come to a conclusion that isn’t surprising, but it’s disappointing nonetheless. There are no new songs. With all the songs that have ever been written since the dawn of time, we’ve heard just about every possible note combination, lyrical phrase, and beat of a drum. The songs are all starting to sound alike. It’s almost as if the songwriter sits down with their sheet of paper and says, “Okay, I’ll take line A from song 459 and line G from song 136 and then I’ll set it to the tune of song 448. Presto! There’s my new song!” It’s so rare anymore to hear a song that truly is unique. That’s why song composers such as Burt Bacharach are such a blessing, with their clever lyrics and unusual melodies. This phenomenon also exists in the world of literature. I had a discussion with some friends a while back about the theory that every book has already been written, and all the books being written now are just mixtures of books that have gone before. I can see their point very clearly, but I don’t like it. As an author, I want to stand up and be different. I want to be fresh and exciting. I want my readers to come to the end of one of my books and say, “Wow! That was really different.” But is that possible? Or am I just rewriting books that have already been written and been around the block one too many times? I think it’s important to remember that we are all individuals, sent here from Heaven with our own personalities, our own spirits, our own souls and our own missions. No two persons on this earth were given exactly the same traits or exactly the same job to do. Even identical twins have their own characteristics. We are like snowflakes, but we are eternal, not doomed to melt as soon as the warm air touches us. And with our uniqueness, our inherent individuality that is ours alone, is it too odd to think that we could also have a song or a story within us, that no one else could write? I’d like to think so. And I’m going to keep trying until I’ve done it.
May 14th , 2006 Like most women, I have many roles. I’m a wife. I’m a daughter. A sister, a homeschooler, a scrapbooker, a friend, a Visiting Teacher. I’m an author and I own and operate a bath salt business. I’m a mother. Of all these roles, the one that causes me the most stress is that of mother. It’s not just the dirty diapers and dirty fingers; that I can deal with. It’s the knowledge that I am preparing these children for their lives here on this earth, that I am laying the foundation for their experiences and their beliefs, and that if they end up in therapy at some point, it’s my fault. Today, on Mother’s Day, I’ve been thinking a lot about the mother vs. author debate that rages on. I’ve been asked many times how I juggle a writing career and motherhood. The honest answer is, sometimes I don’t. Anyone who has dropped by my house unexpectedly can tell you, I am not getting everything done I should. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. When I got married and started my family, I assumed that my writing career would have to wait, and I was fine with that. When I had the dream that became the plot for “Nothing to Regret” (see FAQs) it was apparent to me that the Lord didn’t want me to wait until my children were grown, like I’d planned. This really surprised me. Isn’t motherhood the greatest calling? Shouldn’t everything else be put on hold? I’ve come to realize that the answer to this question is yes and no. There is truly no greater calling than motherhood, as the saying goes. Nothing will ever bring you as much joy. You will never work harder but you’ll never be paid as well. (My currency – my daughter gave me a card she made in Activity Days that said, “My mommy is as pretty as a swan.” You can’t buy how that made me feel.) I love my children with all my heart and I want them to have the very best life I can give them, not so much with things and toys but with experiences and love. Shouldn’t one of those very best things they have be a very best mommy? When I write, it’s my downtime. I get to pull back from the constant demands and focus on doing something that brings me joy, fills up my bucket, and prepares me for the next round of requests. I’m a nicer mommy, a calmer mommy, a better-to-be-around mommy, when I write. I’m certainly not perfect and I won’t pretend to be (there’s too much evidence to the contrary) but having that time to myself really helps. I’ve been asked many times how I manage to stay up so late and write. Don’t I miss the sleep? (Do they not see the huge bags under my eyes?) Yes, I miss the sleep, but it’s mental recharging I need the most, and writing does that for me. I believe that we were given our talents and that we are to use them. I think it would be a dreadful shame to tuck all our talents away only to pull them out when the children are grown. By then, they’d be dusty and moth-eaten. Shouldn’t we use them now, while they’re still fresh? Of course I’m not suggesting that we all ignore our children while we lock ourselves in our bedrooms and focus solely on building up careers. I’m very mindful of the advice Brigham Young gave his daughter Susa: “If you were to become the greatest writer, the most eloquent woman speaker, the most gifted and learned woman of your time, and had neglected your home and your children in order to become so; if, when you arise on the morning of the Resurrection Day, you found that your duty as a wife and a mother had been sacrificed in order that you might pursue any other duty, you will find your whole life had been a failure.” (Susa Young Gates, “Editor’s Department,” Young Woman’s Journal, 5 (June 1894) : 449). What I’m suggesting is that we take a few minutes each day to remember that we are choice daughters of God, that we were given hearts and brains and hands and eyes for reasons that extend beyond our wildest imaginings, and that we should keep ourselves as recharged and energized as we can, for our children’s sake. They will be much happier when Mommy’s feeling at the top of her game. They will learn more from us as we strive to keep our minds active by study and reading. As they see us take half an hour here and there to develop our talents, they will want to develop their own. We were given our talents to serve God. Let’s begin serving Him now instead of waiting for things to slow down, because they never will and we might find countless opportunities to serve had passed us by.
April 20th , 2006 Two Saturdays ago I had the opportunity to travel down to Fillmore and Delta and do Author Extravaganzas with my LDStorymaker friends. While I was in Delta, I met Karola Hilbert Reese, author of “We Were Not Alone,” the story of her growing up years in Germany during World War II. I used her book as part of my research for “Strength to Endure.” It was such an honor to meet her and to feel of her wonderful spirit. This morning she called and told me how much she enjoyed my book and that it was very accurate. Her comments meant so much to me, to get that kind of praise from someone you admire. I was in purple puddles all morning. It’s one thing to create a work of fiction that can be looked upon as a good story, well written, with a good plot. There’s a huge level of satisfaction in that. But my favorite kind of praise is the kind that notices how hard I worked to get it right, and to discover that yes, indeed, I did get it right. Writing historical fiction is different from any other kind of fiction because it focuses on actual events where real men and women lived and fought and loved and died. If I vary from fact, I run the risk of not only losing my credibility, but of offending those who were there and made those sacrifices. Far too often, I do get it wrong. But oh, how good it feels to get it right. | |
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