The Queen of Sophistication


I am sophistication personified.  I am a walking testimonial to grace and elegance.

I am a big liar.

Okay... I aspire to be seen as someone who has her act together. But what is one to do when their own body gives their lack thereof away? 

Some might say I have two left feet. Au Contrare. My feet are a perfect set. Unfortunately, they each have a mind of their own. Put me in stilettoes and watch me 'dance'.

I am tripped up by my own two feet, sidewalk cracks and shadows. I've tripped over wind, fallen on air and did the Miss Congeniality splat more than I care to mention

The harder I try to Runway Walk it, the worse it seems to get.

I've been stuck in road tar, stuck in the hem of my dress, stuck in mud.

I fell into an open manhole.

A manhole?  Who falls into a manhole?

If it were just my clumsy feet, I might be okay, but...

I've gone to school with panty hose hanging out my pants. come out of the bathroom with my skirt in my pantyhoses. Tracked toilet paper down the hall. Broke a red pen (or two) when I sat down and forgot it was in my front pant's pocket. Broke a blue pen when I sat down and forgot it was in my back pocket, broke a black... you get the gist.

I've spent many a days tying my shirt around my waist for other reasons than I was warm.

I've sat in enough food and spilled enough on my person to feed a third world country.

Even nature knows my name or target. I've been pooed on by more birds than I care to mention. I've taken to telling friends they'd do better to walk a few paces away from me or in the least carry an umbrella.

I've been thrown by horses and chased by bats, bit by dogs and clawed by cats. (golly I'm a poet)

What I've shared is a short list of my personal pitfalls.  I could fill volumes.

Invaritably these things happen when I'm in the mist of company or many times while trying to catch the eye of a school crush. (That's a story all in itself.)

You may wonder why I share these foibles. 

Maybe it's because my lack of sophistication is one of the reasons I love to write.

When I write, no one can see that I can't walk a straight line and chew gum.

When I write, the words flow and carry me away to new worlds, places beyond my clumsiness. I can formulate a sentence and not trip over my tongue.

When I write I find grace at my fingertips, elegance in my characters.

I am no longer the klutz vying for a hint of sophistication, I am the story teller, ruler over the minions that reside in my stories, queen of an imaginary realm.

And perhaps I share these things to remind you if God can use me, he can use you.

Write on...

Last time we shared some of our fears as writers

This time let's share some good news .

I've heard of the Snoopy Dance, high fiving, screeching and screaming.

I've heard of wailing and crying and people just being plain dumbfounded

Maybe you moon walked, did a triple flip on the furniture or cartwheeled.

Maybe you didn't jump so high you landed it a tree, but... 

Tell me what you did when you got your book contract.

And if you're not a writer, share what you did when you got some exciting news.

THE HUSBAND TREE by Mary Connealy

I won Mary Connealy's book The Husband Tree in a contest. And I promised her I'd even try and read the book. But I didn't have to try. From the first line I was drawn in. I got the book in the mail and finished it within three hours the same day. Now I know what the buzz is about.

The Husband Tree is the story about, Belle, a woman who lives in a hard country, Montana. After marrying and burying three husband's, and raising her four daughter's, she's become as hard as the country in which she dwells. Men have given her nothing but grief and she's decided that she doesn't need help from any no account males. Belle can take care of herself , and her daughters. She's done so for years.

Silas Harding, has lost in love himself. And in the process was forced to leave his home just to get away from the no account females in his life. He decides women are nothing but trouble and life would be better spent with out one in it.

His metal is tested when he signs on to drive cattle with Belle and her daughters (who are all memorable in their own right). At first, dealing with the contankerous lot of stubborn females, Silas is certain he'll be able to hold true to his promise and never care for a woman again. But Belle isn't anything like the whiny, weak women of Silas' past, she doesn't use her wiles on him, doesn't try to trap him and turn his head. No Belle plum confuses him, because She doesn't need him or want him for nothing more but a hired hand. So why does he find himself falling for her?

And strangely, once Silas begins to help on the drive and take care of her and her girls, Belle finds herself questioning her vow to never marry again. Silas has done more for her in a month than any of her husbands before. He heart opens toward him, but she wonders if a man can truly be trusted.

Even her daughter's hearts begin to thaw under the warmth and care that Silas gives them.

I don't want to give the story away. But The Husband Tree is funny and heartwarming. Mary Connealy has spun a tale that will pull you in and take you along for a wonderful ride. Let me encourage you to take the ride.

Writer's are a strange breed. That's what I hear anyway. We have some funny quirks.

For example: The more rejections the better, they are badges of honor.

Writer's have fears.

We are afraid we'll never get published.

But some are afraid they'll get published and people will find out the're phonies.

Some are afraid they'll only sell one book.  Others are scared they'll sell a million.

Some are afraid they'll lose their imagination and never be able to write again.

Others are afraid they'll go brain dead from imagination overload.

What are some of your fears?