Versatility

Wow. I have to preface this post with a quick blurb about a book I'm reading. It's called When God Winks at You; How God Speaks to You Through the Power of Coincidence. Rather self-explanatory, and you'll see how it fits with my post, like hand and glove, in just a bit. Wow, it's that cool.

Versatility, and how it works for writers, is something I've often wondered about. And now talk of a foray into non-fiction has made me wonder if one writer can try too much? I ask because I've done essays, columns, fiction, children's (my picture book has 6 publisher rejections, though I haven't revisited it in years), and now I want to try non-fic. But can a writer only think they have talent to pull off so many kinds of writing? Or it is common that writers dabble in lots of things? I heard awhile back that a good writer should be able to write anything. Is it true?

Here's where I ask you to remember my post yesterday, where I was trying to determine what path to take with my writing. And I mentioned I was looking for a sign from God about the right direction.

Okay, now on to what I'm so amazingly blown away by. Are you ready? I sat down here at my computer, minutes ago, having typed versatility into the blog post title box. It's not uncommon for me to pull Merriam-Webster.com up, even when I know a word, to give myself a concrete basis for the concept whirring in my brain. So I did that with versatility. Here's what came up, example sentence exactly as it appeared online, bolding mine for emphasis.

Main Entry: ver·sa·til·i·ty:

the quality or state of being versatile

(a writer of great versatility)

Really? I felt a small prick at my soul and continued with my post. And then I came to the word foray. Another instance where I know the word, have used it many times, but wanted to see what Merriam-Webster had to say.

Main Entry: (2)foray

2:a brief excursion or attempt especially outside one's accustomed sphere
(the novelist's foray into nonfiction)

Oh, holy goodness, are you kidding me?! THIS is the answer I was looking for. THIS is God winking at me. I'm blown away, stunned, humbled. Amazed. Wow.

Can I just say it again? Wow. How's that for a sign?

I Shoulda Stayed Home...

My original plan was to stay home from church this morning. It's been a long, busy week with days of not feeling well and, especially with my hubby out of town, I figured it'd be a good chance for my daughters and me to rest up. But then this a.m. dawned and I was feelin' pretty good. And I realized it's Communion Sunday, which is as important a reason to go as any. True?

I should have seen early on that things weren't going to go smoothly for me. (Where's a Blue's Clue when ya need one?) Despite my continued reminders to family and friends over the last few days... I forgot to set my clocks back. So not only did I miss out on my once-per-year opportunity to keep the kids in bed for an extra, glorious hour (yeah, right), I rushed around madly, trying to primp this, dress that, and get us out the door - all before I realized it was an hour earlier than I thought.

So with our extra time we stopped at Wal-Mart. I figured we'd get that errand done; save some time after church. Instead of the quick in-and-out trip I always hope (pray) for, it turned into a thirty-plus minute ordeal. First we had to look at all the clearance Halloween stuff, at the request of my daughters. I did end up buying a costume for each daughter (super cheap!), yet I can't help but worry that in a year's time they'll have changed their minds about being a Barbie bride and Snow White. Guess Hubby and I'll have to wear 'em... Then we couldn't pass up the aisles of Christmas goodies. We knocked down an entire case full of tubed wrapping paper, set off a group of singing tree toppers, and I discovered the zipper on my pants refuses to stay in the up position. Hello world! All this in the first quarter of the store...

Church, once we got there, did not go well. Our family of three (minus Hubby, remember) ended up in the nursery after multiple pew-escape attempts from the little one. (To set this scene better - the nursery is a 6'x6' uninsulated room, directly off the sanctuary. Whichever mom makes it to the nursery first becomes that Sunday's attendant. The honor was mine today.) My daughters were already loud and halfway-obnoxious, but when a rambunctious four-year-old boy joined us, true chaos ensued. Toy tractors took flight, buckets of crayons were dumped, and the table-dancing began. Another mom (who parents her children differently than I do mine) swept into the room demanding to know, "What's going on in here!?" ...I snapped. She offended. I excused her. She left. And I felt horrible. I was so upset by the situation I felt unworthy of Communion. So I didn't partake and stewed over what had just happened. Pfft. But before I could sneak out of the building, unseen at the tail-end of the service, she returned to the nursery. We apologized, we hugged, all was forgiven. (And in all honesty, I do love this woman as one Christian loves another.) A happier spirit was within me and church was over...

We were leaving the church parking lot, headed to lunch. A man who's both a friend and priesthood member approached my van. We chatted a bit and he asked where my husband was. I explained he's gone to Colorado, having gotten a stupendous deal on a condo in Breckenridge. (The kidlets and I are to join him later in the week.) But instead of what should have come out of my mouth I said, yada yada "the condom he got." YIPES! *smacks hand on head* I couldn't - and still can't - believe that came out of my mouth. Despite our giggles and the friend's assurance that it was no big deal, I sank low in my seat and turned as red as my mini-van, I'm sure. Then I waved a friendly goodbye and high-tailed it outta there.

...So now we're home. I'm going to stay here, do chores, and keep myself out of trouble. I hope.