Fixin' to Think About Getting Started ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Photo by Juan Rumimpunu on Unsplash

At our house we often say we're fixin' to think about getting ready to start something. It's incredibly easy to put off things we’re not quite prepared to tackle—cleaning a closet, organizing photos, or starting that new book.

Photo by Micheile Henderson on Unsplash

I'm full of excuses. No sense cleaning a closet when all the 
local thrift stores are closed due to COVID. Where would I put all those clothes I plan to give away? They might as well stay where they are.

Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash

And don't get me started on all the reasons I can't organize the photos, not to mention umpteen carousels of slides from the 70s.

First of all, the photos are in several places--physical photographs in boxes and albums, digital images stored in at least three different clouds, some stored on my hard drive, and others stored on memory sticks. There are simply too many choices on where to store them.  

And really, who wants someone else's photos? Most of them are only meaningful to hubby and me. My focus at this point is to gather photos I think our kids and grandkids will enjoy. 

Photo by Magnet.me on Unsplash

And then there's the plethora of reasons I can't get chapter one started in my newest book--do I really know my protagonist well enough to start penning her journey? And what about her hubby? Don't I need to know his unique backstory and his goals and motivations? 

I'm reminded of one of my favorite episodes of The Bob Newhart Show. Does anyone else remember that TV series? It aired between 1972 and 1978 and Suzanne Pleshette played Newhart's wife. Bob played a psychologist who had some issues of his own, including needing everything in place before he started a task. 

Photo from wikipedia

One weekend, he and his wife decided to trade chores.  I'm not sure I remember all the particulars, but the gist is that Emily left the apartment to go do things like get the oil changed in the car and pick up some items at the hardware store while Bob stayed home to complete the chores on his list. His first task was to write checks to pay their bills. 

A couple of hours later, Emily completed everything on her list and returned home to find Bob just setting down to start his first task. When she questioned him about why he hadn't completed anything, he explained that he had to get ready to pay the bills. For Bob that meant finding his lucky socks and hat, trying out different locations in the apartment to spread out the stack of bills and the checkbook, and deciding on the best ink pen for the job.

Sound familiar? Bob fell into the trap of needing everything perfectly organized before he started a simple task. A typical procrastination ploy.

Are you a procrastinator? If so, what kinds of things keep you from starting a project?

While you think that through, I'm fixin' to think about starting to draft that book.

Meet our Members

Author Jacquolyn McMurray

When she’s not writing, Jackie enjoys spending time with her family, reading, sewing, and solving crossword puzzles.  In a past life, she was an elementary school teacher.

To view Jacquolyn's blog posts or listen to interviews, please click HERE

Heart Shapes in Nature ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Have you ever studied nature's patterns? I find it interesting to observe how often Mother Nature repeats herself in spirals, hexagons, tessellations, and heart shapes. 

Red Anthuriums

One of the most common heart-shaped plants in Hawai'i is the anthurium. These simple flowers grow in a variety of colors and sizes.  

White Anthurium in Vase

Although my favorite anthuriums are red, this white with a blush of pink has its own distinct elegance. 

Pink Anthuriums in Entryway

And who can deny that pink anthuriums help make this a charming place to stop and rest?







One of my friends gave me a beautiful book on Hawaiian flowers. Published in 1943, the book is a collection of lithographs and verses like the ones below.

Lithograph by T. J. Mundorff

Like a hand-carved piece of

Red Chinese Lacquer

Each wax-like, wrinkled line

Molded in dreams centuries old. 

You've sacrificed your fragrance 

To other flowers,

And held an unforgettable beauty

All your own.

                                         Raymond A. Stewart, Jr.

But, anthuriums are not the only heart-shaped objects in nature.           
                                        

There are leaves,  

coral and lava rock,



     





and even fruit!

  
Next time you take a walk, look around and see if you can spot any heart-shaped objects.  I'd love to see what you find.

Meet our Members

Author Jacquolyn McMurray

Jacquolyn is one of the founding members of Originality by Design. You can view her prior blog posts by clicking MEMBER PAGE

When Best Laid Plans Aren't the Best ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to maximize productivity while scheduling in time for exercise and relaxation.  My goal is to manage my time without multitasking—a skill I have never conquered anyway and one that some brain researchers claim lowers your IQ. And, you know, I don’t really want to lower my IQ!

My first stab at maximizing productivity was to chunk my day into time segments that were assigned one focus: writing, researching, revising/editing, cleaning the kitchen, cooking, social media, or responding to email, etc.

This can really work, I told myself. I no longer have children living in our home and hubby spends most of his waking hours outside on our farm.

Here’s how the first day went:   

6 AM - I grabbed my first cup of coffee and headed for my office where I planned to spend ten minutes reading emails and ten minutes scanning Facebook. Thirty-five minutes and a second cup of coffee later, I recalculated how to make up the fifteen minutes I’d used that should have been part of my get-myself-ready-for-the-day chunk of time. I reasoned I didn’t really need to cook a healthy protein rich breakfast—that would save me fifteen minutes. Back on track, I carried a bowl of potato chips to my desk, rolled up my sleeves, and started my designated writing time.

7:15 AM – My fingers were flying across the keyboard! Rarely had I been in such good form.  Words were flowing when up popped a Facebook notice that my brother had sent a message. I had to check into that, you know, in case it was an emergency. The message contained a link to a video that was so hysterical, I had to stop and send it to several of my contacts and while I was at it, I hopped on kdp.amazon.com to see if I’d sold any books since yesterday morning.

And being on an Amazon site reminded me that I forgot to order the gluten-free flour and yeast I’d need to bake homemade bread, because you know I would be so efficient with my new schedule that I would have time to make all our bread from scratch.

9:00 AM – Back to my work-in-progress and the alarm on my phone went off. It was time to feed the chickens, collect eggs, and take a walk. I couldn’t skip this part of the day. I tugged on my socks and tennis shoes and headed out the door. I’d get really productive right after my walk. I’d be refreshed and focused and ready to write, wouldn’t I?

Well, at the chicken coop I was greeted by a hen with a new batch of chicks. I walked back up to the house to grab my phone. I had to film a little video to send to my grandsons. 

When I passed my little garden, I noticed weeds threatening to take over, so I stopped to pull those out. I finally set off for my walk, my Kindle in hand, and audiobook ready to go. When I returned from my walk, I couldn’t just stop the audiobook in the middle of the chapter, so I listened to that chapter and since I was almost to the end of the book, I decided I would fix my lunch while I listened to the rest of the book.

11:00 AM - After posting a review and filling a bowl with chips, I settled back at my desk. I had to get my brain back in the game, so I reread the last chapter I wrote while I nibbled at my chips, then positioned my fingers back on the keyboard. As part of my new chunking of time method, I would draft fast, but insert an asterisk anywhere in the WIP where I needed to do research to check my facts. I'm told it's terribly important to have your facts straight when you write historical fiction. The page I’d typed was filled with asterisks, so I decided I just had to stop and do research, even though research was not even on the schedule for the week. How could I ignore burning questions like:  How did people in Hawai’i in the 1850s light lanterns? Did they even have lanterns? What kind of lanterns were they? How much light did they give off?

Three hours later, I still did not know how Hawaiians lit their lanterns, but I did get a great deal on an online class and found a recipe for gluten-free pumpkin bread with chocolate chips. And when a pop-up ad beckoned me to read an article called "Skin Doctor Begs Women Over 40 to do This Every Morning," I just had to read it. After all, the article might have disappeared in cyberspace and then I would not have known that wiping avocado on my face could save my skin. I couldn’t let my skin go to pot because I ignored the wise internet doctor.

2 PM - I rubbed my eyes and walked back to my bedroom to treat my eyes to some soothing drops. I decided I should draw the blinds and close my eyes to let the drops do their work. Three hours later, I woke up.  

5 PM - It was time to tidy the kitchen and cook dinner. I deserved a glass of wine, right?  

6:30 PM - I joined hubby in the living room to watch tv and to write out my plan for the next day when I'd try again to up my productivity. 

A week later, I'm still trying to develop a schedule that works for me. And I'll think about that more after I watch this really funny video my brother just sent me.

When You're Weary, Feeling Small ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Weary 

Have you ever had a particular song get stuck in your head? Ever had lyrics go into auto rewind and the accompanying music lull you into some form of reverie that cushions you from reality? 

That's where I'm at with Paul Simon's "Bridge Over Troubled Water." 

Do you remember the lines? When you're weary...feeling small?

Feeling Small 

I've experienced plenty of days when I needed a nap and felt like I wasn't big enough/experienced enough/wise enough to tackle the most mundane chores before me.  

And then a little miracle happens and someone calls, or texts, or posts something encouraging on facebook and I'm recharged and ready to tackle my most difficult tasks. 

And during these uncertain times, I'm fortunate to have a husband to keep me company while we self-isolate and lots of friends and family who cheer me on when I'm feeling down. 

Not everyone has what I have. Some live alone. Some struggle with a lack of social contacts. And these folks might not be the ones you think are struggling. 

There's plenty we can we do to bridge the troubled waters --pick up the phone and call or text someone you haven't talked to in a long while, post positive messages on social media, write a letter to someone who would love to hear from you, or post funny signs in your front yard (my husband's specialty).

Lawn Decorations

I'm on your side, Paul Simon sings, when times get rough.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-XCmb6t6Zw

We're in this together, so let's practice hopeful, uplifting behaviors. 

Hope. It's the bridge over troubled waters. 

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Photo by Evan Wise on Unsplash

Issac Newton once said, "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants."  

Is there any creative out there who can honestly say they have never utilized the wisdom of those who came before us?

I know I can't.

Personally, I'm clear that any successes I've had on my writing journey can be attributed to my writing community.

When I started my writing journey in my early twenties, I had no appreciation for the advantages of being part of a writing community. Maybe that's because I was too self-conscious to admit that one of my dreams was to become a published author.  I imagined that writing was a solitary pursuit, and although many parts of the process ARE solitary, it's the time interacting with other writers and writing teachers that has sustained me for decades. Left on my own, the critic in my head would have eventually won out and I would have abandoned my dream.

It wasn't until 2001 that writing became a routine part of my life all because we teachers went on strike. Prompted by the unity a strike affords, a group of teachers decided that when we were not on the picket line, we would do some writing exercises together to pass the time.  

Voila! My first writing group was established.

We made a commitment to meet once a month to explore writing. In the beginning, we did a lot of Natalie Goldberg writing exercises, shared our writing, gave one another feedback, and dutifully studied the hefty Writers' Market for places to send our work. During spring and summer breaks from school, we'd rent a place for a weekend retreat away from our families. We took writing classes, entered contests, collected rejections, and forged forward. 

Nineteen years later, the two of us who remain in the group are multi-published authors who continue to take classes and embrace the knowledge of our favorite writing gurus.

A big part of my writing community are author friends I've met at conferences and writers' retreats. We are bonded through our love of creating and willingness to learn from those who came before us.

I am forever grateful to all those who supported and encouraged me in my dream of becoming a published author.  

  

Persistence ~ by Jacquolyn McMurrray

Ever since Grace shared her word for the year, I've been thinking about choosing a word of my own.

Photo by Jacquolyn McMurray

After many hikes on Hawai'i island, I've settled on the word PERSISTENCE.  It  astounds me how many examples of persistence are in our natural environment. 

Photo by Len Pestana

Take, for example, the ʻōhiʻa lehua tree that is one of the first plants to establish itself in the Hawaiian lava fields. With precious few nutrients to sustain growth, the seed settles itself in water that has collected in a small depression or crack in the lava and grows into a flowering tree. 

Photo by Roberto Reposo on Unsplash

Or consider the five inch long Hawaiian o'opu ‘alamo‘o stream fish that climbs up all 442 feet of 'Akaka Falls in order to reach the stream that feeds the falls. This persistent creature travels up the slick rocks, against the flow of the falls, with the help of suction disks on its underbelly and its extraordinary fins. The trip is long and arduous, but the instinct to reach the stream overshadows the struggle.



In the front of our house, smothered by a pile of lava rocks, a day lily plant finds her way through the rock fortress to display her brilliant orange petals. 

When was the last time you pushed through a project to display your talents?

Last year it was persistence that helped me complete my first historical romance for Barbour Publishing. This year I'll need to persist even more as I work on my first full length historical fiction. 

Here’s to a year filled with the persistence needed to create your best work! 

Aloha until next time.

   

Santa Fascination ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with Santa Claus. As a youngster, I was sure I saw the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh across the sky and heard them as they pranced on our roof. We siblings would spend hours with the Sears Roebuck and J.C. Penny Christmas catalogs to reference the gifts we wanted Santa to bring. 

Annie Spratt on Unsplash

All seven of we kids knew not to ask for extravagant gifts. We weren’t a wealthy family, but our mother managed to make Christmas morning a magical event and selflessly gave the credit to Santa for the multitude of gifts we received.  

The origin of Santa goes back to the 3^rd century in modern-day Turkey where St. Nicholas was known as the patron saint of children. Legend tells us St. Nicholas was born into wealth, but gave it all away. He spent his life helping the poor and sick. Over centuries, and across cultures, St. Nicholas took on many manifestations, but always maintained the persona of kindness and giving.  

Dutch immigrants are credited with introducing St. Nicholas to the United States in 1773 when they gathered on the anniversary of the saint’s death. A more modern version of St. Nicholas was immortalized in 1822 with Clement Clarke Moore’s poem, “An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas,” later known as the iconic “’Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Through that poem, the magical abilities of Santa and his reindeer were imprinted on our minds.

I’m sure I inherited my love of all things Santa from my mother. One of her favorite movies was Miracle on 34^th Street. I still prefer the 1947 original version featuring the young Natalie Wood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--uyzf7X_0c

It’s no surprise that I collect Santa Clauses. I often buy an ornament when I travel, and friends and family give me Santa themed gifts.  

Each piece in my collection holds a memory, like the ornaments from my sisters--reminders of a shared trip, our love of chocolate, and a Santa bearing gifts. They all make me smile.

                                                                                                                     

                                    

As much as I love all the various pieces in my collection, the Santa that brings back memories of my mom is one of my favorites.

Back in the day when our mother was still living, we four sisters took mom on a road trip from our home town of Tama, Iowa to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. 

We stayed in a bed and breakfast where we staged photo shoots with mom as the star. She was always such a good sport and always up for any activity we proposed. She readily played along with our antics-- the sillier the better.

The Victorian cottage we rented had a pink velvet settee—the perfect prop for our photos. Mom donned a turquoise satin bathrobe and a lampshade for a hat. My sisters fed her grapes as if she were the Queen of Sheba while I snapped photos.  

At the Silver Dollar City amusement park in Branson, Missouri, we pushed mom around in a wheelchair so that she would have the stamina to spend the day in the park. She loved the water rides and the live shows. She clapped her hands to the music and applauded heartily.

I remember she spent quite a long time choosing just the right souvenir. She settled on a wire-wrapped ring. She wore that ring for years after the trip. I hope when she looked at it that it gave her pleasure.

I bought my Father Frost ornament on that trip. And every Christmas when I go through my decorations, I look at Father Frost's kind eyes and rosy cheeks and think of mom and my sisters and give thanks that we had that trip together. 

Lessons I've Learned from Turkeys ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Many folks think turkeys are stupid. And we've definitely observed some incidences of stupidity in the flock of turkeys that wander through our farm. More than one has drowned in the backyard reservoir by allegedly admiring his own reflection. At least that's hubby's theory.

Not to be a contrarian, but I think turkeys can teach us some valuable lessons about life. 

1) Find your happy place.

The wild turkeys that roam through our farm discovered the lanai of our wood shop. I know turkeys don't smile, per se, but they did seem especially content the day I took the photo.  They often stop and rest and just seem to soak up life.

I thought about places where I feel safe and happy and many locations came to mind.  Our farm is one of those places.  When I take a short view, I see a lot of work: mowing the yard, painting the lanai, and cleaning the chicken coop. But when I take a longer view and gaze toward the ocean, my perspective changes and I'm reminded to be thankful for what I have. 

I've learned my happy place doesn't need to be an actual place. It can be a state of mind like appreciating the opportunity to spend time with friends and family, to have a chunk of time to write, to chat with my kids and the grandboys.



2)  Stick together 

When turkeys sense danger--like an unleashed dog romping toward them--they run en masse.

We are not meant to be solitary beings. As much as I enjoy solitude, I love spending time with friends and family and sharing our ups and downs. As far back as I can remember I have relied on my family and friends in times of struggle. Likewise, when something amazing happens, I can't wait to share the news with those I love. 


3) Challenge yourself now and then. 

Okay, the gravel pile isn't a huge hill for a turkey to climb, but the idea is the same.  Wild turkeys, who rarely fly, can make it to a eucalyptus tree branch fifty feet in the air. 

If I do the same things all the time, I don't grow as a person. My goals for the year usually include taking some sort of coursework that will move me forward in my writing, sticking to some semblance of an exercise plan, and learning something new with technology. 

Challenge yourself. Drive a new route, learn a new skill, spread your wings and fly.

Meet our Members ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

Author Jacquolyn McMurray

Jacquolyn McMurray and her husband live on a macadamia nut farm on the island of Hawaiʻi where they feed a clowder of cats and a flock of hodgepodge chickens.

When she’s not writing, Jackie enjoys spending time with her family, reading, sewing, and solving crossword puzzles.

Please visit her MEMBER PAGE to view her books, read her prior blog posts, and/or check out her podcast.

Scent as a Writing Prompt ~ Jacquolyn McMurray

On Friday, I attempted to watch a webinar about marketing and promotion.  It was a three-hour class and I was quite certain I wouldn't be able to sit still for that long.  Since it was a replay (I'd missed the live webinar), I decided I should clean my desk as I listened.  I could wipe shelves and easily sort papers into two piles, right? 

Wrong.

Midway into cleaning.

To decide what I wanted to keep and what should go to the discard pile, I needed to read some journal entries, reread various conference notes, label some new file folders, and ...well, you get the picture.  The marketing webinar soon took a back seat to exploring years of notations, ideas, and false starts.

Part of what I read were notebook entries from last December when my local writing group decided to try our hand at teaching new writers how to "Jump Start" their writing.  We began with a couple of writing prompts from Natalie Goldberg's Wild Mind, then we wrote using smell as a stimuli. 

Did you know that smell tends to jog memories and stir emotions more than our other senses? 

Photo by Silviu Bocan on Unsplash

I remember the first time I did this writing exercise.  I was in a beginning writer class and the instructor lit a cigar and passed it around the table. One of the older women left the room sobbing. The instructor picked up the woman's pen and notepad and followed her from the room.  When our twenty minute timed writing was done, the red-eyed woman rejoined the group.  We were invited, if we desired, to share a paragraph or two.  The woman volunteered and read about her cigar smoking father who had been killed in World War II. Prompted by the smell of the cigar smoke, she was able to write an agonizing story about the day she found out he was dead. 

In December, my friend set out a variety of aromatic products to choose from. I chose lemon scented furniture polish. 

Somehow, through the magic of letting go and just writing, I discovered some things that I think will help me with my current WIP.

I wrote in poetry format.  Here’s a couple of lines from my wild mind, timed writing.

Dust particles cluster

and hide under couches,

crouch under chairs,

and taunt me when I pass.

Like old hurts,

I allow them to stay, undisturbed

and embrace the lessons they offer.

For me, rereading this was powerful because the heroine of my current WIP has suffered great personal losses and she needs to find her way to a new normal.  Who knew the scent of furniture polish could prompt me to explore her past hurts and how she can come to terms with them? 

Goldberg teaches us to kick out our internal editor, choose a place and time with no distractions, and keep the pen moving. No computers allowed because typing uses a different part of your brain. Twenty minute sprints tend to be quite telling.

I’m sure there are lots of aromas that remind you of something. Sometimes the memories are fleeting thoughts, lost in the next moment. For example, the scent of roses reminds me of my mother. But I have to wonder what I might discover if I smelled roses, shut out everything else, and just wrote with no preconceived plan. 

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

If you're a writer, and you are stuck, try a free write based on a scent and see if a snippet of truth emerges. 

And my desk?  After six hours I finished cleaning and am ready to put those notations to work for my heroine.