Joy's Stories: This and That and Ryley Stories

I just spent a few minutes blog-hopping, and wow, there are a lot of blogs out there. So many writing styles. So many people. So many words. So many people writing in stream-of-consciousness, bending the rules of grammar to make their thoughts sound fancy. Am I allowed to be honest about my feelings about that?

It’s actually kind of overwhelming.

And I think, if there are that many writers out there keeping professional-looking blogs, what hope is there for someone like me who loves writing but has trouble writing about anything other than my own life?

I love writing. The more I write, the more I want to write. But in the end, I hope my writing sounds like me. I’m not fancy, and neither are my words. I never want my writing to sound, as Ryan puts it, “overwrought.” In the last several weeks, I have felt my mind coming alive with things to say. There are so many words in my head. I find myself jotting down notes of ideas at stoplights, at work, and in my kitchen. I store the ideas in my phone, and the whole time I’m sitting at my desk at work, I feel like I am wasting my time there…that I should be (and would rather be) at home, writing.

Two weeks ago, I attended a writer’s guild meeting. It was my first meeting like that, so I had no idea what to expect. I was extremely nervous when I learned we would be sitting in circles, critiquing each other’s writing. I hadn’t brought any of my own, and honestly, it might be awhile before I feel comfortable doing that! But we sat in a circle around a table, and I was given the job of reading a story aloud while everyone else read silently and scribbled notes. To my surprise, I loved it. Every time I noticed a comma missing, I saw five other people marking the spot with their pens, out of the corner of my eye.

“You are my people!” I wanted to shout. “I am among friends!”

We entered into a lively discussion about “point of view” and Chicago Style vs. AP Style, and the entire time I was taking notes of things to research later. We read stories that were good and some that weren’t so good. Some writers are amateur; others are professional. But every writer received honest feedback from other writers. I think it was extremely encouraging for me overall; it boosts a writer’s confidence to read others’ unfinished stories. We all have stories to tell, and we’re all trying to tell them in our own way, I suppose. :-)

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I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet that our van ended up being totaled in the accident I was in a month ago. It was a sad day when we had to go clean it out. There were six years of memories and road trips and poptart crumbs and lollipops melted to children’s praise CDs in the basket between our front seats. That van took us lots of places. Ryley and I both cried in the parking lot of the auto body shop as we filled a trash bag with all our personal belongings.

I think that somewhere along the way, I had assigned a personality to our van in my head. I thought of it as a stupid, yet loyal dog. It sounds silly, I know. But I viewed it as a member of the family. The day before the accident, I had just filled it up with gas and gotten it a car wash for the first time in almost a year. Talk about bad timing!

But when I look at the situation, I see God’s hand at work. For several months, the brakes had been slipping. The tires were getting bad, especially on icy roads (as was confirmed!). The ABS light was on, and the transmission was making a funny noise. The passenger side window has never rolled down, and the driver’s seat was broken at the base. One of the airbags didn’t work. Two of the door locks were broken, and I joked that there were so many notification lights that my dashboard was lit up like a Christmas tree. We never would have trusted that van on a big roadtrip, and in the weeks leading up to the accident, I had begun to get a little uptight about the money we were going to have to shell out for brakes, tires, and several other necessities just to keep it running.

But God had other plans.

All things work together for good to those who love Him.

Our insurance paid retail value for the van when they totaled it, so we had a heftier sum to put toward a down-payment than what we had imagined we would.

And after a lot of research, we chose a 2008 Honda Odyssey with more buttons and systems than we know what to do with. It has all the things that were important to us, as well as some things that were just bonuses! We call it our space shuttle. We got a great deal on it, and we are so, so grateful.

Ryley and her friend test out the DVD entertainment system.

Ryley explores the sunroof, my favorite feature.

Praise the Lord. He just took that situation and made it work for us. :-)

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Here are some quick Ryley Stories of late:

1. We were counting her Girl Scout cookie money one evening, getting ready to turn some in to the troop leader.

“I’m going to make sure none of these are fake,” Ryley announced, and one by one, she held each bill up to the light and declared it real.

“I’m sure they’re all fine,” I answered. “Who taught you that anyway?”

“Daddy. Oh, no. This one is fake!” It was an odd mixture of horror and excitement in her voice.

I examined the $5 bill and declared it fine. But yes, we are raising a nerd, apparently. I love it.

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2. We were sitting at the dinner table with my mom and Alyson, and we were discussing the upcoming SuperBowl, weighing the merits (or lack thereof) of each team.

“Well, I want the Patriots to win because then they will have to pick their new players last.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, so confidently. Just joining the family NFL discussion like it’s no big deal.

We all stopped and turned to look at her.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Are you talking about the draft?”

“Yes. Whoever wins the SuperBowl doesn’t get to pick good new players.”

I think Ryan’s love for her doubled in that instant. Tripled, even. His daughter eats up every word he says, even when he thinks she’s not paying attention. :-)

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3. The other night, as we were preparing for bedtime, she said, “Mom, what’s that word that means ‘bad’ about a group of people? Like…with Native Americans, you would say, ‘All Indians do this: [insert war cries here].’”

“Oh, do you mean stereotypes?”

“Yes! Stereotypes! I came up with a perfect stereotype about girls. Wanna hear it?”

“Yes.”

“All girls love Justin Bieber. That’s a stereotype because it’s not true! I don’t love Justin Bieber!”

Then, a couple days later, she came home from school all upset.

“Martin had a stereotype about me! He thinks I’m evil because I’m German!”

Oh dear. :-) She is a little ridiculously proud of her German heritage. We explained that our ancestors left Germany long before the World Wars.

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Pictures from the last few weeks: