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Category: Writing

Does Your Need Motivate You to Write?

There is no school for caregivers. So where does the caregiver turn for help? I struggled through the first year of my husband’s “No Hope” rare cancer diagnosis in 2003. Through that time, I developed a new strength and a new title, The Lionhearted Kat.

I also created a lionhearted motto to keep me going and to share:

“Be Bold! Stay Strong! Spring to action!”

My husband survived the rare cancer, Pseudomyxoma Peritonei (PMP). He lived seven years from the day he first saw a doctor and then died suddenly of a heart attack.

That first near-death experience brought reality to our home.

Gary often said, “Life is short and then you die. It is what you do with the minutes in between that count.” He used those last seven years to help make a difference in the lives of others. He also encouraged me to write, write, write.

At the beginning of Gary’s illness, I searched libraries and bookstores for help. I can still feel my desperation in a Barnes and Noble store when I said to the teen clerk, “I need a book for caregivers.”

“I’m not sure what that is, maybe try self-help.”

I found nothing. Later I wrote and published, “Capsules of Hope: Survival Guide for Caregivers.”

A rare cancer moved me to supply a need for others.

Not all of life is death and dying—today I’m determined to find something ridiculous to write about. A tidbit of laughter to share with others.

Above all I know this:

Nothing I write will be read by others and possibly make a difference in their lives, help them to find help and hope unless I share it or submit it.

online writers meeting

There are those who want to leave behind a legacy. They are happy to write the family history or their memoir. In the past, our grandparents were the story tellers. They didn’t write the family history, they shared it. And we listened. Sometimes we learned life lessons from what we heard.

But today, too much of the family is split apart. Often, we learn from a short snippet we read in a magazine. Maybe an “Upper Room” devotional in the doctor’s office.

At the last conference I attended a woman I’d never met before sat across from me.

“I’ve been writing my memoir for twenty years,” she said.

For two seconds I thought I’d choke on my bite of salad—twenty years is a long time to wait to share the pain or joys of life with others.

I am encouraging my new friend to write her book. Still, there is a part of me wants to scream. I wanted to say,

“Write one article at a time. Help others now. Don’t wait. A memoir might sell if you have a giant platform on which to reach out to the masses, but what about writing for a Sunday School handout? Or shape your story into a devotional for ‘Upper Room.’”

Today I’m encouraging myself and other writers I come in contact with to remember:

Your words are nothing more than scratches on a paper until you have a reader—one who is changed because you took the time to share what God has done in your life.

Don’t Just Write Something–Submit It Without Delay..

 

Stronger Verbs Stronger Writing
Stronger Verbs Stronger Writing

After writing about caregiving and such tough places in life, I searched out a fun teaching tool I wrote myself years ago. My critique partner at that time, Audrey, pushed me to learn a stronger vocabulary. Instead of studying, (see the ing word) I played (yep, an ed word.) I shared (an ed word) my fun poetry with my writer friends and we laughed (see another ed word.)

This writing exercise and lots of practice taught me to write with stronger verbs.

ED, YOU SAID?

“Ed, it’s said, is a stronger verb than ING.
I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.
Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.
I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.


Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.
So, I jumped and bounced and ED words compiled.
I dabbled and drizzled till my lips really smiled.
I hurled and furled and agonized, too.
I bristled and blundered and bandied my way through.


Skewered, slithered, sniveled, and sniped
Whacked, wallowed, warbled, and wiped.
Yawned, yoweled, yodeled, and yipped.
I gasped for air as I giggled and gripped.


Yes, I clicked my tongue and chimed delighted,
“Look at those ED’s they promenade as if benighted.”
My tongue relished the sound of a toughed end.
Words that rippled, rolled and even I comprehend.


I’ve weathered, and warmed. Trounced and trashed.
I’ve screamed and squirreled. Hobbled and hashed.
And what, you ask, was accomplished by this?
Why, I raised my knowledge, at my editor’s wish?


I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.
Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.
So, I jumped and bounced and ED words compiled.
I dabbled and drizzled till my lips really smiled.


I hurled and furled and agonized, too.
I bristled and blundered and bandied my way through.
Skewered, slithered, sniveled, and sniped
Whacked, wallowed, warbled, and wiped.


Yawned, yoweled, yodeled, and yipped.
I gasped for air as I giggled and gripped.
Yes, I clicked my tongue and chimed delighted,
“Look at those ED’s they promenade as if benighted.”


My tongue relished the sound of a toughed end.
Words that rippled, rolled and even I comprehend.
I’ve weathered, and warmed. Trounced and trashed.
I’ve screamed and squirreled. Hobbled and hashed.


And what, you ask, was accomplished by this?
Why, I raised my knowledge, at my editor’s wish?
“Ed, it’s said, is a stronger verb than ING.
I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.


Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.
So, I jumped and bounced and ED words compiled.
I dabbled and drizzled till my lips really smiled.


I hurled and furled and agonized, too.
I bristled and blundered and bandied my way through.
Skewered, slithered, sniveled, and sniped
Whacked, wallowed, warbled, and wiped.


Yawned, yoweled, yodeled, and yipped.
I gasped for air as I giggled and gripped.
Yes, I clicked my tongue and chimed delighted,
“Look at those ED’s they promenade as if benighted.”


My tongue relished the sound of a toughed end.
Words that rippled, rolled and even I comprehend.
I’ve weathered, and warmed. Trounced and trashed.
I’ve screamed and squirreled. Hobbled and hashed.


And what, you ask, was accomplished by this?
Why, I raised my knowledge, at my editor’s wish?
“Ed, it’s said, is a stronger verb than ING.
I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.


Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.
So, I jumped and bounced and ED words compiled.
I dabbled and drizzled till my lips really smiled.


I hurled and furled and agonized, too.
I bristled and blundered and bandied my way through.
Skewered, slithered, sniveled, and sniped
Whacked, wallowed, warbled, and wiped.


Yawned, yoweled, yodeled, and yipped.
I gasped for air as I giggled and gripped.
Yes, I clicked my tongue and chimed delighted,
“Look at those ED’s they promenade as if benighted.”


My tongue relished the sound of a toughed end.
Words that rippled, rolled and even I comprehend.
I’ve weathered, and warmed. Trounced and trashed.
I’ve screamed and squirreled. Hobbled and hashed.


And what, you ask, was accomplished by this?
Why, I raised my knowledge, at my editor’s wish?
“Ed, it’s said, is a stronger verb than ING.
Try like I might, Ed leaves me befuddled.
I smote my head and said, “For me, ING sings.
My mind sifted ED’s and ended up jumbled.


So, I jumped and bounced and ED words compiled.
I dabbled and drizzled till my lips really smiled.
I hurled and furled and agonized, too.
I bristled and blundered and bandied my way through.


Skewered, slithered, sniveled, and sniped
Whacked, wallowed, warbled, and wiped.
Yawned, yoweled, yodeled, and yipped.
I gasped for air as I giggled and gripped.


Yes, I clicked my tongue and chimed delighted,
“Look at those ED’s they promenade as if benighted.”
My tongue relished the sound of a toughed end.
Words that rippled, rolled and even I comprehend.


I’ve weathered, and warmed. Trounced and trashed.
I’ve screamed and squirreled. Hobbled and hashed.
And what, you ask, was accomplished by this?
Why, I raised my knowledge, at my editor’s wish?

© 2003 by the Lionhearted Kat