An Article on the Incarnation

Earlier this year, I was asked to write something to contribute to a piece in our diocese's newsletter, the Bishop's Bulletin. They got five people who live out different roles in the diocese to submit a few words on preparing for the Incarnation. My entry is the last one on this link:
http://www.sfcatholic.org/bishopsbulletin/pondering-the-incarnation-god-is-with-us/
Enjoy!

Weekly Prompt Writing

It is my firm opinion that I didn’t deserve to be shunned by the rest of the group. I mean, how could I have known those berries were poisonous? They should be glad I ate them first. My stomach bubbled and I swallowed. The past twelve hours hadn’t been the most enjoyable.

Now I was walking at the back of the caravan, several paces behind Lam’s mule, grumbling to myself.

And, of course, Sal was in the lead, riding beside the Elder.

“Hey, Fletcher,” she called over her shoulder.

I didn’t respond.

“Come on, slowpoke. The Elder needs to talk to you.”

I could have sworn the trees trembled at the volume of her yelling. I heard the Elder mumble, “I could have done that.”

I quickened my pace until I stood next to the Elder and Sal. “Yes, sir?”

“Did you learn about navigation by the stars in your training?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sure did.”

Sal rolled her eyes behind the Elder’s back.

“Then tonight you must tell us which direction we have been heading. Rhynd lost his compass and I think we’ve been wandering off our course.”

“Certainly, sir,” I said.

“Certainly, sir,” Sal mimicked.

I would have smacked her or at least glared at her, but I felt another vomit coming on. I ran to the bushes off the trail. Darn those berries.

Lam handed me a handkerchief. “Sorry about your stomach, kid. It could happen to the best of us.”

I wiped my mouth. Maybe it could happen to the best of us, but it had happened to me. And my sister was never going to let me live it down.

As if she had known the berries were poisonous.

Weekly Prompt Writing

Salome and Zorah scuttled down the street, past dozens of shouting market vendors. They giggled at the antics of a child and a stray dog, but dared not look up or speak until they had passed out of the main road and away from the noise of the market.

“That was fun,” Zorah said, unwinding her headscarf. “But I’m not sure it was worth the work.”

“Please,” Salome said. “You like drama even more than I do. One day we should protest our non-admittance instead of sneaking in. But really, it’s so easy to do in a dark theatre.”

Zorah shrugged. “Easy for you, anyway.”

They walked on down the deserted alley, looking up at the vandalized buildings. At the end of the alley was a perpendicular street which bustled with the decaying energy of the nearby market.

“Hey, look.” Salome pointed toward an outside staircase, above which was a red box containing a single rose. It bore words which read, “in case of love at first sight break glass”.

She scoffed. “Cute idea, I guess, but whoever stocks this thing must spend a lot of money on roses. How often would someone use it?”

Zorah gripped her arm. “I don’t know, but we might need it right now.” She gestured ahead of them, where a dashingly handsome foreigner was helping an old woman across the street. “He’s so…”

“Zorah, you’re ridiculous,” Salome said, and dragged her friend around the corner.

Weekly Prompt Writing

I had just finished washing my face when I heard a gasp in the next room. There was a door adjoining the two rooms, so I put my ear to the keyhole and listened.

There were footsteps, like someone pacing. “Who are you?” my sister’s voice said.

“That is irrelevant,” said a man’s voice.

“Why are you in my room?”

There was a pause. “Are you Katrina Greene?”

“That is irrelevant,” she said, mimicking her adversary’s tone.

“I come to kill you.”

“Really?” Katrina asked, not missing a beat. “Then we have a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t come to die.”

I heard something drop and wondered if she had thrown her knife. I told myself that I should’ve barged in to save her a while ago. But part of me recoiled.

So this was it. I really was a coward. Just like she always told me.

Just then I heard her scream. Without thinking, I rammed myself into the door and tumbled into her room. The stranger was holding her wrists, trying to wrench a dagger away from her hand. She was kicking him.

“Hey!” I said. “Don’t you touch my sister.”

It was then that I realized I didn’t have a weapon. The man changed paths and assailed me, and I curled up in self-defense, cursing my stupidity.

A blade appeared right under my nose. But before it could harm me, another blade sliced through the man’s arm and removed his hand. Blood spurted everywhere as the man screamed and tried to nurse his wound. Katrina jumped on him and pinned him down.

“You mess with one of us, you mess with both of us,” she said. “We’re twins. We come as a package.”

She lifted her head and yelled for Rhynd and Lam to come tie the man up.

“Thanks for your help,” she said to me. “Even if you are incredibly stupid.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Anytime. But I’ll leave the acts of bravery to you in the future.”

Weekly Prompt Writing

We came to a run-down tavern. “We’ll stop here for the night,” The Elder said.

I glanced at Katrina. “This doesn’t look like a suitable place for girls.”

Katrina rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t worry about me.” She tore Lam’s jacket from his hand and shrugged it on. She braided her hair and put on a pair of spectacles she had picked up from who knows where. “See?”

“Sorry to say, Miss Katrina,” Rhynd said, scratching his head, “but you still look definitely like a girl.”

She glanced down at herself. “You’re right. Lend me your trousers.”

“My what?”

“I noticed you had an extra pair. Give them to me.”

Instead of waiting for Rhynd to comply, she slipped the trousers from his bag and pulled them on over her dress. They were far too loose, which made them hide her skirt well. She tied a rope around her waist to make them stay up. She put up the hood of Lam’s jacket and paced. “How about now?” she asked in a deep voice.

The Elder shrugged. “Probably good enough. This early in the morning no one will notice much.”

Katrina smirked at me as we entered the tavern. “They should’ve recruited me for the quest instead of you.”

“What good fortune we just happened to find you in the catacombs after you'd been missing for two years, then,” I said through my teeth.

We arrived at the tavern and ordered three rooms: one for The Elder, one for Lam, Rhynd, and me, and one for Katrina.

“Nice being a girl sometimes,” she said when we received keys the tavern-keeper. “Have fun sharing a room, little brother.” She swept past me.

“We’re twins, you know,” I called after her. “That means we’re the same age.”

“Whatever.”

Weekly Prompt Writing

We paused on our way to refill our skins in a fresh stream off the road. Katrina leant over the water and dunked her head in, then squeezed out her sopping hair.

Lam was filling a skin next to her. “So, Katrina’s a nice name,” he said. “Do people call you Kat for short?”

She looked him dead in the eyes, water dripping from her hair back into the stream. “Not twice.”

Lam let out a nervous laugh.

The Elder approached me as I secured the last skin to our packs. “Your sister seems irritable.”

I shrugged. “That’s just the way she is. You know what they say, twins are polar opposites.” I brandished a winning smile.

He didn’t look convinced. I sent up a prayer to the Ancients to make The Elder let me stay on the quest. If they made me leave because of Katrina, I’d kill her. Sure, I hadn’t been as useful in the catacombs as they had hoped, but I was sure I could prove my worth now. And besides, if I hadn’t been with them, Katrina would probably have stabbed them all in the deep recesses of her cave, then rifled their belongings and left their bodies to rot.

Funny her middle name was Ruth.

“Fletcher, did you finish your portion of rice at lunch?” Rhynd asked.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Katrina intervened. “No, he didn’t. But you can’t have it, Mr. Rhynd. I already ate it.”

I shoved my hand into the pocket where I had carefully wrapped up my sticky rice for later. The handkerchief was gone, as was the food.

I glared at my sister, who flipped her wet hair so it sprayed in my face.

Weekly Prompt Writing

I wrote the next four installments at the same Skype meeting, and they all follow the same storyline.

From the top of the staircase, we hadn’t been able to see the bottom. We had been trudging downward for more than three hours now, and there was still no sign of the end. My mind was drifting as my body repeated the motions over and over…down a flight, pivot, down a flight, pivot. When I blinked, the darkness was scarred with zigzags.

I almost lost my footing when someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Do you need some water?” Lam asked.

I shook my head.

“Give him water,” The Elder said without looking back at us.

I took the skin from Lam and winced at the inevitable muttering. “Told you we shouldn’t have brought the kid. Can’t even handle this.”

“No one asked you, Rhynd,” The Elder said. “Fletcher will be a godsend to us later, when we reach the catacombs.”

I whispered a thanks to Lam and peered over the edge of the staircase, careful not to lose my balance. The darkness continued for a seemingly endless distance. When would it start getting difficult to breathe? I looked around at the huge cavern that contained only stairs, as far as I could tell. There was plenty of air to go around. But why would the Ancients have built such an extravagant entrance to their secret chambers?

The monotony was beginning to wear on us. With a swift motion Rhynd ripped a button from his jacket and hurled it down into the abyss. We all froze to listen. Silence. We shifted our feet but dared not move from our places.

A full ten minutes elapsed, and we jumped at a distant plink. A wave of trembling went over us. The Elder gritted his teeth and lifted his torch again. We continued down into the ancient catacombs.

Weekly Prompt Writing

The prompt for this one was a song:



     Forty-four days. It had been forty-four days. Not even so much as a “hello”. She knew she deserved it.
     She sat at her piano and brushed her fingers against the cold keys, worn from years of use. Random snippets of songs transmitted from her brain into her hands, but she couldn’t make any coherent melody out of them. She searched for the perfect thing to play, but instead of finding it, her hands fell limp into her lap.
     A yellow light flashed in the corner of her eye. The piano needed water. For once, she ignored its gentle plea. She leaned her elbows on the keys, put her head down on her arms, and stared out the window.
     Words floated in and out of her mind. Patches of conversations they had had. The sounds of uncontrollable laughter, mindless humming, quiet sobs. The voices were soft and familiar. Even smells came back to her, the aromas of baking cookies and rainy asphalt and the dust that collected on the windowsills.
     Forty-four days since she had been home. It felt like years.

"Weekly" Prompt Writing

From tonight's Skype meeting:

     Splash, plop, giggle. Splash, plop, giggle. The boy would never tire of his game. He glanced up. “Mama, are you watching? Do you see the big splashes I’m making?”
     “I’m watching, dear,” Charlotte said, “but we need to go home.” She glanced at the bundle in her arms. “The baby is getting wet.”
     “Oh, alright.” He skipped to catch up to his mother and walked beside her, stomping in every puddle that crossed their path. He picked up a dripping leaf. “Mama, this looks like an L, for Lucy. See, Lucy, this is your leaf. Mama, how do you spell Lucy?”
     “L-U-C-Y. But do hurry up, Jamie.”
     “L-U-C-Y,” James chanted as he hunted in the muddy gravel for the rest of the letters that made up his little sister’s name.
     By the time they arrived at home, all his clothes were wet, and he had found only the L and the U. Charlotte made him keep the leaves outside, which he almost complained about, before he remembered that she had promised him a story after she put the baby down for a nap.
     On her way to the nursery, Charlotte paused by the portrait hanging in the hallway. The last she had heard from Blaise, he had been healthy—as healthy as could be expected—but hungry. How awful to know her husband was across the world going hungry, while she cared for the children and avoided talking about their father.
     One day the war would end and they would be a family again. But until then, there were many days of the same loneliness and fear.

2016 in Review

The new year is here, and it's time to reflect on the year that just closed. I'll look at the highlight of each month of 2016.

January
In January I got to go to the March For Life, spent 74 hours in a bus next to my best friend, attended Mass in a roadside ditch during a snowstorm, enjoyed sleeping on a gym floor with nothing but a blanket, and most importantly helped make history and gain media attention for the pro-life cause.

February

North Central ACDA Regional Honor Choir was by far my favorite of my honor choir experiences. Dr. Head was an amazing director and over that magical weekend I learned so much about myself as a musician.

March
Sang for four Masses and one Good Friday liturgy over the Easter Triduum. And early Easter meant that when I turned 17, it was no longer Lent!

April
In April BHS choirs went on a trip to Omaha to see Phantom of the Opera live at the Orpheum Theatre. The production was too fabulous for words.

MayMy best friends graduated from high school. Crazy how time goes by.

June
Got to live with Nicole for two weeks while my family traveled around the country going to weddings and getting proposed to. Also, Shakespeare Camp began in late June.

July
TAC Summer Program. I wish I could relive those two weeks exactly how they happened. So happy to be returning there for college next year!

August

South Dakota Honor Choir, though exhausting and a bit much right after TAC, was still an unforgettable musical experience. Good ol' Randy Stenson and the IlluminAltos.

September

After my last Broomtree, I started senior year. Which I wish were already done.

October
Mom and I went to Germany, stayed in a picturesque abbey, ate delicious food, spent time with my now-professed aunt, and witnesses the miracle at the tomb of St. Walburga. So much history. So much Catholic. So much joy.

NovemberNaNoWriMo 2016. Wrote a novel which I changed into a novella after meeting word count quota. Kind of a tragic story but beautiful in its own way. Also, official acceptance from TAC plus a free t-shirt.

December
The twins came home from college and we went on The Bestie Roadtrip. Great music, laughs, conversations, hugs, food, everything. The ultimate road trip.

So yeah, 2016 was pretty cool for my life. I can't wait to see what 2017 brings my way!

To the Blessed Virgin

"Lo! You were somebody all of a sudden." (Magnificat, Paul Claudel)

You were an ordinary peasant girl. Perhaps you were hanging clothes to dry or shelling peas when it happened. One moment you were Mary, daughter of Joachim, and the next, there was an angel kneeling before you and you were Mary, mother of God.

Suddenly you were somebody. You never saw it coming. Perhaps your recent prayers had been lukewarm. But God had already singled you out from the moment of your conception to be His special handmaiden. That was why the angel hailed you as "full of grace." You possessed within your soul the grace to say yes to God's plan. And that yes was not without its concomitant questions. 

"How can I be with child? What will those around me think? Will Joseph understand? Will I be deserted?" And most deeply, "Why has God chosen me to perform this sublime task?"

But the angel reassured you, and you took God at His word. 

NaNoWriMo 2016...done!

All finished with NaNoWriMo 2016! Final word count of 50,166, written in 28 days! 

I'm so glad I got my third book written...but man does it need editing! The agenda for next semester is revisions, revisions galore! 

It was so cool to participate again in a project that is so intimately related to a huge part of who I am. I think I will miss it next year, but in college maybe I'll be too busy to notice!

Things Galore

November always seems to be a busy month. What with NaNoWriMo, quiz bowls, choir rehearsals, standardized tests, and other random events going on, there hasn't been a lot of downtime. Today was a snow day for the high school so we had a relaxed "sweatpants day." The musical, Beauty and the Beast, opened yesterday, but they had to cancel tonight's performance because of the weather. Tessie was glad for the break.
On day 18 of NaNoWriMo, my current word count is 34,287. It's been a pretty steady climb. The most I've written in a day was 4,200-something, so I'm well ahead of the daily quota, but not crazy-ahead (like some of my writing buddies are). This book has definitely been more of a challenge to write than last year's, but I'm hoping the finished product will make it worth it. It's so cool to have time to write books in high school.
We have had three high school quiz bowls this year so far. My team has placed first, second, and third at each one, respectively. There were 46 teams at Monday's, so the competition was heated! The one scheduled for Monday will have 34 teams, so it shouldn't be quite so overwhelming.

Our first-place win in Brookings.

Both our teams at Roosevelt--we got third, our other team got second.

Yesterday we went to the opening night show of BHS's fall musical, Beauty and the Beast. It was a fantastic production, as always. I'm looking forward to going again tomorrow. 

She was such a cute piece of silverware! This is her smile after three performances in one day!

I've dug out the Christmas music books to start practicing for the season, and I'm enjoying it! We have some good repertoire in concert choir, and the Youth Choir Christmas program at church is going to be adorable. Now I just have to learn that music...

Next week is the flood of siblings for Thanksgiving. We're excited to have all seven kids together for the first holiday in two years!

It's That Time of Year Again...

October. You know what that means. Prep for NaNoWriMo! I'm super excited about my novel for this year's month of insanity. In fact, I can hardly wait for it to be November 1st so I can get started writing! This may be my last NaNoWriMo for a long time...possibly ever. Because of college and stuff. So I'm going to give it all I've got. Early morning writing, mid-afternoon writing, late night writing, here I come! If only you could write in the shower.

A short synopsis of Novel #3: Harper's Rill

When Charlotte accidentally witnesses a crime, her life is in jeopardy and she is shipped off to America after a near-death experience. There she meets Blaise, whose curiosity about his past is about to overturn his life in the sleepy town of Harper's Rill. Months of mystery, danger, and self-discovery ensue for both Charlotte and Blaise, and they soon become the only people who can help each other regain security and happiness.

Here's to a fabulous NaNoPrep season and NaNoWriMo 2016!

Martyr

     Her knees trembled, but her voice did not. "Yes," she said.
     "We'll give you one last chance to rethink your answer," the captain said. "Is this really so important to you? You could save yourself and your family if you just said no."
     "Yes," she said again, this time more loudly, her voice ringing through the morning stillness. The guards shifted their feet, unwilling to meet her gaze. "It is so important to me," she went on. "If I can't say with conviction that I believe in my Lord Jesus Christ and in His Church, then what can I be certain of? I know that if you kill me, my family will suffer. My baby may die with no one to care for him. But can I face them if I deny God? Can I face God if I deny Him? Do what you want with me. You want me to say one little word, and I won't say it. I won't say it because it goes against everything I am. I believe in God and I will die for Him." 
     Her voice caught as she thought of her husband and three young children, and what her death would mean for them. But she knew God would take care of them. He always did. And if they should become martyrs, so much the better--she would see them again soon.
     Non nobis, Domine, sed nomini tuo da gloria.
     Her knees stopped shaking and she was at peace.
     "That's enough," said the captain, his voice harsh with anger. "Take her away."
     She cried out as the beasts hurtled toward her, but it wasn't in fear. It was her Lord's name that she cried out. The onlookers turned away from the sight and wished they could shut out the sound.

Weekly Prompt Writing

I actually went to the meeting last night, so I have a prompt this week!

source

I whistled as I strolled by the many shops of downtown. It was a glorious sunny day, despite the chill, and I was in a determinedly happy mood. My sister would be coming over tonight and I thought I'd order something special, something we'd both loved in our childhood.
I walked into the pizza place and waited in line to place my order. "One large Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple and anchovies, please," I said.
The cashier paled a little—perhaps at my topping selection?—and told me to wait there. I did so, and in a couple of minutes she came back, looking even paler. Without a word she gestured me to follow her, glancing around with suspicion. I followed her to the back of the shop, then down a dank staircase and into a danker basement. Before I could ask what I was doing down here, a voice slithered toward my ear in the darkness.
"So. You've come at last."
I cleared my throat. "Look, if you don't like my pizza choices, I respect that, but it hardly necessitates kidnapping me—"
"Enough joking, Kramer. Did you bring the money?"
"I don't know who Kramer is," I told the darkness, "but yeah, I'm prepared to pay for my pizza." I realized that the cashier had disappeared back up the stairs.
"Please," said the voice, "cease the dramatics. It's a simple transaction. I provide the goods, you provide the collateral."
"Right. So where's the pizza?"
The voice let out a long-suffering sigh, then yelled at the top of its invisible lungs. Two feet scampered down the stairs.
"Yes, sir?"
"This man is buying a pizza, Jules. BUYING A PIZZA. You've just given away our front to a mere civilian. I'll not have this kind of behavior. You're fired. Now, for the sake of my business dealings, I'm afraid I'll have to hold both of you hostage until the real Kramer shows up."

Weekly(ish) Prompt Writing

Now that I'm finally back home, this series can start back up!

Here's from yesterday's Skype meeting.

Cold. I knew there was a reason I had stayed in the south all my life. I'd never been this cold. My lungs burned and I gasped for air, but instead of oxygen all I breathed in was more cold. I tried to keep my scarf over my nose and mouth, but it smelled of sweat and made breathing even harder. My teeth chattered, but if I clenched them my whole body shook instead. I wanted to scream from the pain of freezing.
My eyes, almost frozen shut from the snow on my eyelids and squinting against the wind, caught a glimpse of yellow. It was candlelight. It was dazzling against the gray of everything else in my line of vision. I didn't have to turn my horse toward the light; he approached it by instinct.
Soon a village appeared in relief, and at the end of the high street, what looked like a monastery. I headed for the most inviting entrance I could find. Dismounting was a stiff ordeal, and I was gratified to have the door open only seconds after my gloved fist pounded on it, shaking the snow off its wood. A monk in gray hooded habit smiled and gestured me inside.
The hall was awash with candlelight and warmth, and the smell of fire and cooking wafted from somewhere. I drank in the sensation of my bones thawing while one of the monks went out to stable my horse.
"Thank you," told the first monk.
He nodded. "Do you come from far?"
"I'm a southerner," I said, as much in apology as in explanation. He gave me a comprehending smile and led me to the kitchen.
"What brings you to our sleepy little town in the dead of winter?" he asked while I burnt my tongue on a cup of spiced cider. 
I glanced around out of habit. "I'm afraid I can't tell you," I said. Even in a monastery, a spy remains undercover. 
The monk raised his eyebrows but said nothing. 

Starting School

The end of August means the beginning of the school year, which is my senior year of high school! I'm so glad to be getting done with high school and moving on to bigger and more interesting things. Here's my (mostly-elective) lineup for senior year:
Statistics
American History (part 2)
Ethics (theology)
German (still teaching myself for fun)
History of the Church
Poetry (with Dad)
ACT math test prep
Concert Choir
...and the obvious piano and voice lessons.
With so little school to do, I'll have plenty of time for my favorite hobbies: writing, reading, baking, and music!

L-48

This morning I was experimenting with flash fiction.

I first noticed the boy on my way to work one morning. His eyes reflected the green-gray of the leaves and burned me. Neither of us spoke.
He was always there behind the bushes. Every time I looked, there he was, staring at me. He became a comforting presence to me: a constant in my ever-changing world. We shared a look almost every day. We never spoke to each other.
So the weeks and months went by.
This morning there was a different boy in his place. I went up to him and asked, "Where is the other boy?"
A thread of silence grew until at length he cut it. "Sentry L-47 has been exterminated. I am Sentry L-48."

Weekly Prompt Writing

From this week's meeting.

At first, darkness. I lost my bearings as I floated about in the abyss of blackness.
And then I was blinded by millions of lights lining the walls--white, blue, red, and green lights. They lit up in a wave and I saw that I was in a vast enclosed chamber. Surrounded on all sides by these tiny lights.
A control panel of sorts? But how had I gotten here?
I jumped when a heavy thud echoed overhead. They were coming. My breath fogged the inside of my helmet as I looked around in a wild search for an exit.
There it was, far, far below me. With no gravity, I'd have to climb down there. I grasped at the walls with my hands and feet and pulled myself with all my strength. The space suit added at least twenty more pounds to my normal weight, and it wasn't long before I broke a sweat.
But wait. I stopped. What if they expected me to go out that way?
I let go and began drifting up again. I climbed in the opposite direction until I was near the ceiling.
And then I heard another thud.