Author: Natalie Hart

How Do You Feel About Sarcasm?

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

In two YA/MG books I’ve read this summer, the female protagonist is sarcastic, both in her own head and with others: Hourglass, by Myra McEntire, and Kepler’s Dream, by Juliet Bell. (Gorgeous covers, both.)

They are very different novels, but Emerson (from Hourglass) and Ella (from Kepler) both use sarcasm as a protective shield. In Emerson’s case, she’s 17, so she self-consciously uses it to keep people distant from her because she sees dead people, spent time in a psych ward, and has secretly gone off her meds — she wants to protect others from her crazy.

Ella has been stuck at what she calls Broken Family Camp with her severe grandmother (who she’s never met) in New Mexico while her mother undergoes a stem cell transplant for leukemia in Seattle. She takes refuge in her sarcastic observations about the people and the place she’s stuck in.

Wisecracking, sarcastic, kick-butt heroines are “in” now. I support the trend to have strong female protagonists, but I wish they didn’t always have to be so sarcastic. Because the thing the character does to keep everyone else at arm’s length or as a sign of her disaffection, keeps me feeling distant from the character I’m supposed to be attaching to. It does to me what it does to everyone else in the story. Being party to the character’s interior talk rarely helps, because they seem so distant from their own emotions. And in the 11-year-old character, it made her seem a little old for her age.

I kept reading both those books, despite feeling an initial disconnect with the point of view characters, and they turned into wonderful stories. Emerson and Ella grew on me as their situations got both better and worse, and as they showed more vulnerability and connected to the people around them. Hourglass is a fast-moving story with loads of tension and strange stuff happening and secrets and paranormal business. Kepler’s Dream is a quieter story, not as flashy and not at all paranormal. But as Ella got to know the people and the landscape at her grandmother’s, the sarcastic names she gave them became more affectionate. At the end of the book, when she slyly clues her grandmother (Violet Von Stern, which is an awesome name) in to the nickname she calls Violet — the GM, for General Major of the Good Grammar Correctional Facility — I got teary, because it was a sign of comfort and security in their relationship, especially when Violet gets the joke on herself.

Another book I read this summer, The Magicians, by Lev Grossman, had multiple characters who were sarcastic and disaffected and kept everyone at a distance, and I could barely finish it. I found almost all the characters unpleasant, distasteful, whiney, bratty, and mean. I have not picked up the sequel, and I won’t. I don’t want to spend any more time with those people.

But it’s an interesting thing to think about as a writer: what do you do when your character’s coping mechanism keeps the reader distant as well? How do you keep them reading until your character starts to mature? Do you show a core of sincerity behind the sarcasm to tide the reader over until the character grows? Some other positive character trait? It brings home to me how difficult sarcasm is, as a voice, to balance. How much is too much?

I tried it, once, in a romance manuscript. I love a wisecracking romance heroine, and I’m pretty snarky in my own head, so I thought I could pull it off, but it didn’t work for me, didn’t sound right. I had to rewrite it with the character generally being more sincere and only very occasionally sarcastic (and even then, the ms. isn’t seeing the light of day). Now that I think of it, there aren’t any sarcastic characters in the first David and Saul manuscript: David is made fun of for being so honest and upright, Saul is sometimes cruel and closed-up and sometimes open, Samuel can be cryptic but with a sense of humor, David’s oldest brother doesn’t hide his meanness. So they certainly aren’t all pleasant, but no sarcastic wisecrackers.

As David matures through the next two books, he won’t be able to remain so honest and upright: he lies to priests, pretends to be crazy, has to figure out how to survive on the run, becomes a mercenary while lying to his host king. He has to learn how to be diplomatic, which is all about maintaining an aura of sincerity while twisting the truth to your purposes. But no sarcasm. I seem to have a problem with it.

How do you respond to a sarcastic main character?

SYTYCD Top 8

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

Back with another So You Think You Can Dance post. We’re at the top 8, getting deep into the serious talent. Here we go.

Group number was cool, the men all in black, dancing a bit minimalist, the women in red with fans, but not just prancing about flipping their hair. I’m getting really tired of all the hair flipping and obscuring the girls’ faces — professional dancers don’t do that. I wish they wouldn’t make the girls do it here.

Solo: Tiffany. Good basic girl dancing on this show, but not memorable.

Witney and Twitch: East Coast Hip Hop
She was so good! Really committed to the sharper, harder movements, and did them way full out. I’m impressed.

Solo: Will. No goofiness! Good for him. Nice work.

Cole and Allison, Sonya Tayek number
LOVED THIS! He plays a soulless character so well, with no sadism-for-fun, just a matter-of-factness that is creepy and scary. Sonya’s choreography was amazing, all the slow movement to sudden fast freezes were awesome, and they killed every bit of it. There was real menace from him and fear from her in this. Cole matched Allison’s intensity, which is saying something. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. This was really so powerful and dramatic.

Solo: Lindsey. She’s really thought out how to make her solo still ballroom, but by herself. Looked good.

Eliana and Ryan, quick step (often the kiss of death on this show)
Her charm in this number was shiny and lovely! The choreographer managed to make a story out of the quick step to give them something other than just steps. Her carriage from the years of ballet transferred well to this formal ballroom hold. The dancing was great, but her charm totally sold it.

Solo: Chehon. I love his solos. He really tries to convey something other than “these are the tricks I can do.” The way he hangs in the air in the middle of his jumps makes me hold my breath. And his spins, his center is crazy. And then he cried because his mother was in the audience all the way from Switzerland.

Lindsey and Alex, jazz to that Gotye song.
Top shelf movement, and I love me some Alex, but their chemistry wasn’t there. There was supposed to be sexual tension, and they made frustrated faces, but I didn’t buy that aspect of it.

Will and Lauren, a Christopher Scott hip hop (which are often some of the best things on this show) in which Will has to be serious
He wasn’t as super-crisp with his lower body as he could’ve been, but he gave an “ordinary guy deeply frustrated” vibe, which was what the piece required. The musicality of the choreography was awesome. He did really well — no goofiness at all.

Solo: Witney. This didn’t do it for me as much as Lindsey’s solo, but she’s definitely hot.

Solo: Cole. Speed, drama, power — a great example of his dance style.

Cyrus and Melanie, jazz
Weird punching moves throughout this number, but cute punching. This one had to be tough for him, because there was a lot of move and pose, so it was so very much slower than his normal style. But his charisma is HUGE, and he papers over a lot of dancing deficits with that. He honestly looks like he’s having fun. He never has one fake moment on stage, and that’s a gift.

Solo: Eliana. She’s never made me cry before, but she did now and with less than 30 seconds of dancing. So deep on those toe shoes.

Chehon and Anya, Argentine tango.
What a different mood for a tango on this show, it was so quietly sexy. So intimate. The come here/go away/now we’re here and let’s be together and abandoned to each other got me a little flushed, to tell you the truth. The flicking leg thing, which usually comes off as aggressive, was so sexy — it looked like they were tangling legs and made me think of … you get the idea. I’m falling for Chehon even more this show.

Solo: Cyrus (I. Can’t. Wait. He is so Sick at what he does.) Loved every millisecond of it.

Tiffany and Ade, contemporary (it better be good to get the pimp spot over that Chehon and Anya number)
The dancing itself was so good, big and impressive and free, and Ade is so strong (with beautiful arms) but to a song about the power of love, there was very little connection between the two of them. I wanted more. I find Tiffany lacking in personality when she dances; I wish she’d waited a couple of years when she developed some gravitas. I obviously disagree with the judges and the voters, but I don’t find her memorable.

People leaving: (I’m SO thrilled Chehon is not in the bottom 2 this week! At this point, that’s what I care the most about.)
Lindsey — first choice I don’t agree with. She’s got more range, both in movement and in emotion than Witney. I would’ve kept her.
Will — I agree with this one. Cole brings more drama and tension to his movement, and he’s more of an emotional chameleon, so there’s more the choreographers can do with him.

I must say how happy I am that the women all had their hair back and I could see their faces this week! Hooray.

This was a really great night of dancing. I’ll be pointing my toes in my sleep. Hopefully, I won’t pretend I’m on the show so hard that I almost fall in Zumba tomorrow, like I did last week.

Samson the P.R. Master

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

So I’ve been reading an amazing book: Tree and Shrub in Our Biblical Heritage, by Nogah Hareuveni (trans. Helen Frenkley). Doesn’t sound amazing to you? Well, it’s the height of perfection for me in my drive to make the David and Saul series as specific and realistic as possible. I’ve finally found the source for trees and plants that David would’ve seen and had available to him for kindling, food, shade, water, etc. It’s full of the kinds of details that bring back the life, the humor in biblical stories that audiences at the time would’ve gotten. Like in this one about Samson, the P.R. master. [ETA: Tree and Shrub gave me the information about the plant and discussed what that meant for the story of Samson and the seven new ropes, but I gave it the imaginative retelling after the starred break below.]

Here’s how we’re going to imagine Samson: Dwayne Johnson, aka The Rock — big, strong, charming. Also, the long hair.

She’s not in my telling of the story much, but if you want to imagine Delilah, let’s say she’s Nicole Scherzinger.
The Israelites, at this time, are ruled by the Philistines. Samson is the Israelites’ Judge, which doesn’t mean he was wise. He just killed lots of Philistines because the Lord gave him immense physical strength. He also goes after women he shouldn’t. Early in his history, he fell in love with a Philistine woman from Timnah (5 miles down the road from where he lived in Mahaneh-dan). On the way to Timnah with his parents to arrange the marriage, he killed a young lion and ripped its jaws apart with his bare hands. On the return trip for the wedding, he saw that bees had nested in the lion’s jaws, scooped out some honey, and ate it.
In Timnah, Samson threw a 7-day pre-wedding party. He told a riddle to 30 young Philistine men. If they solved it, he’d give each of them one plain linen and one fancy robe. This was a big deal. These guys would’ve had one or two plain robes; only the rich would’ve had a fancy robe. “From the one who eats came something to eat; out of the strong came something sweet.” Oh, he was sure of himself, that Samson. Nobody knew about the lion and the honey, not even his parents.
The 30 guys couldn’t figure it out, so they threatened the wife-to-be. She wept and moaned every time she was with Samson until he told her. When the 30 guys answered the riddle he made an unflattering analogy (“if you hadn’t plowed with my heifer, you wouldn’t have figured it out”), went 20 miles to the coastal (Philistine) town of Ashkelon, killed 30 guys there and took their stuff, which he then gave to the 30 guys in Timnah. And then left in a huff without actually marrying the woman although believing she was his wife. See, not wise.
Later, he burned the entire wheat crop of Timnah, killed 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey, and hefted up the city gates of Gaza by its two posts to escape the leaders plotting to kill him in the morning after he was through with the prostitute he was “visiting.”
None of that is our story, though. It’s just the set-up.
*************************
Mahaneh-dan (between Zorah and Eshtaol, in the foothills of the Judean mountains), between 1,200 & 1,100 BCE
Samson sauntered over to the window overlooking the front of his house. He could’ve shaken Delilah for trying to put one over on him. Again. But she got gorgeously angry when he acted like it was all a big joke, so that’s what he did.
He crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall, watching the Philistine leaders and flunkies flee his house, muttering to themselves. He stayed even after they were out of sight.
Delilah came near enough for him to smell her. The late afternoon heat intensified the scent of the olive oil she’d shined herself up with for her performance today. “Are they coming yet?”
“Who?”
She huffed. He didn’t have to look at her to know she was pouting.
And there came the crowd. Mostly men he knew from the village, but not all. They called to him before they reached his gate. “Samson!” “What’s going on?” “What happened?” “What did you do this time?”
Should he make them wait until evening, when everyone was in from the fields and hills? Nah. He flattened his palms on the wall on either side of the window. “I’ve been in my house all day. What could I have done?”
“Don’t play with us,” someone shouted. “Tell us, tell us.”
He shrugged and tried to look innocent.
“Come now.” Elder Raddai stepped forward with the usual scowl on his face. “The Philistines commandeered a dozen of our men yesterday, keeping them out of the fields all day today, and sent them with a dozen on their men on some fool journey to make seven fresh yitran ropes and deliver them here without drying out. They didn’t let our men in and just now ran out of here with their robes in a bunch. Last week the bow strings. Now this. What kind of trouble are you making?”
Delilah snickered. Samson gritted his teeth to keep the smile on his face.
“You mess with them, but we’re the ones who pay.” Raddai shook his finger as if Samson were a little boy.
Some members of the crowd shouted him down, but not enough. Samson stepped to the side and hooked his arm around Delilah’s shoulders and tried to pull her into view, but she twisted away and scooted to the other side of the room.
“Stop it,” she whispered. “They’ll stone me.”
She was right. Better to keep her out of sight. The only reason he got away with her was because they assumed, after he left for two weeks and then returned with her, that he and Delilah were married.
Samson went down the ladder and opened his front door. “I’m not the one creating trouble.” He grinned. “It’s those Philistines. They can’t kill me outright so they keep trying to capture me.”
Some of the men laughed and elbowed each other at that. Samson chuckled with them until they clamored for the story. “We’re all men here, aren’t we?” He made a show of checking the crowd. “Don’t want tender ears hearing this story. So I was enjoying some time with my lady and she asked how to tie me down securely.”
The crash of pottery hitting the wall came from upstairs. Samson cocked one eyebrow. “I thought we were having a little fun, so I told her seven fresh bow strings would do it. Last week, she brings some out and ties me up and we….” He winked and continued. “And then out pop the Philistines to take me away. Obviously, I’m still here.”
“They said he ripped through them like they were nothing,” someone shouted.
Samson shifted his arms away from his body and flexed a bit. “So then yesterday, she’s after me to get tied up again. I knew what she was about this time, so I gave the Philistines such a job. Anyone here want to tell us what they went through? Anyone?”
A hand went up and a young guy was pushed up to the front. “Sorry you got roped into it,” Samson said to him before turning him around to face the crowd.
“The Philistines–” The kid was still young enough that his voice cracked, but he cleared his throat and kept going. “They dragged me and my brother and some others away from the fields yesterday. They were going on about where they could find yitran bushes, but everyone knows they don’t grow around here, so we had to go with them back to their towns, a half day’s walk away. They split us into seven teams, one group for each rope. We slept on the ground by our bushes. They didn’t even let me stop at home to get my cloak, so I got soaked with dew.”
The men muttered about such disrespect before Samson hushed them.
“As soon as there was enough light to work by, we stripped the bark. They were in such a hurry they yelled at us to girdle the plant, but we wouldn’t do it, so that meant running around to several bushes. Then we couldn’t even sit to clean the strips and they wouldn’t give us knives. We had to pick off the twigs and leaves with our thumbnails.”
More outrage from the crowd and Samson clapped his bear paw of a hand on the boy’s shoulder in false solicitude.
“They kept poking us in the back to keep us walking while we folded the strands and rubbed them together while the Philistines twisted them until there was a rope long enough to wrap around my lord, Samson.” The boy sent up a shy glance.
Samson nodded down at him.
The kid relaxed a little more and yelled over the crowd. “They poured more water over the yitran to make sure it didn’t dry out than they gave us to drink!”
“And in this late summer heat.” Samson joined in the scolding of the Philistines.
“Those were really good ropes,” the kid said. “How did you get out of them?”
Samson let a smile build slowly and then snapped his fingers. “Like flax in a flame. Wine all around to celebrate!” He hauled out two jugs and passed them around until the atmosphere was festive. It had worked perfectly. The crazy errand had attracted so much attention, the story would be all over the region in two days, max.

Revisiting the “I Wonders”

~ Natalie Hart ~ 5 Comments

I’ve had the writing blahs. More accurately, the revision blahs. The first book in my planned trilogy (imaginative retelling of the biblical story of David and Saul in young adult novels) is finished. It’s been read by close to a dozen people and is in the hands of a publisher that will hopefully look at it some time this year. That means I move on to the second novel, which is complete in messy draft 1 form.

In late spring, I dutifully read the draft and noted where I needed to “show not tell,” where I needed more information, where I’d gotten the emotional tenor wrong. To the left are 3 of the 8 pages of notes I have — two lines of teeny chicken-scratches per line on the page, not to mention the stuff scribbled in margins, added in post-its, and written on the manuscript pages.

It hasn’t been as bad as pulling teeth. I had 11 of those pulled as a child, one of which had to be broken apart in my mouth and taken out in chunks, at a time when pain management wasn’t as good as it is now (or Australian dentists just thought we needed to be tougher). So revising this ms. hasn’t gone to that level.

But close.

In his book, The War of Art, Steven Pressfield writes about what he calls Resistance (and, yes, it’s always capitalized): whatever it is within you that blocks you from living your fullest life, from doing whatever creative thing you feel the pull to do. The following is from the excerpt that appears on the book’s page on his website:

“Resistance cannot be seen, touched, heard or smelled. But it can be felt. It is experienced as a force field emanating from a work-in-potential. It’s a repelling force. It’s negative. Its intention is to shove the creator away, distract him, sap his energy, incapacitate him.

If Resistance wins, the work doesn’t get written.”

I’ve got Resistance bad, in a way I never did for the first book. I called it any number of things over the summer.

1. My usual summer ADD when the kids are home and extra kids are here and I’m ferrying people about to have their fun.
2. The heat. The first half of the summer was so hot it sapped all my drive.
3. Anxiety over the fate of book 1 (aka It Is You) at the publisher, because the submission did not come about in a normal way and they didn’t get it in the format their website says they prefer, but when the president of the company asks for it in his own way, that’s how you send it, and isn’t it good that the president asked for it and apparently read it and apparently sent it along to the young readers section, but I didn’t get the postcard that they typically send saying that they’ve received the manuscript, and does that mean they don’t have it, do I dare be obnoxious enough to send them a letter asking to confirm whether they have it and whether it contains what they need from me, or should I just trust the wheels that have already been set it motion….
4. Health issues, none of which are lastingly serious, but two of which did interrupt my life for a bit (pleurisy and some kind of neck something that had me moving like a robot).

But now the kids are in school, it’s not so hot, and my neck is mostly okay. The anxiety over It Is You is still there, but I’m working on trusting the process, and on recognizing that, publishing being what it is, when a publisher says I’ll hear from them, “very soon,” two months is well within that timeframe. And so I’ve been beating myself into the chair and choking my way through a few notes, which might cover one page. Ninety minutes of work a day, tops. This is the mark of an amateur, not a pro.

Giving myself serious talking-tos helps a bit. Bible reading and prayer helps. Reading inspiring, butt-kicking words from other writers, such as Justine Musk, Steven Pressfield, and Robin LeFever helps, too.

But none of that took hold until today. You know what it was? What got me into this project in the first place: the “I wonders.” The questions about all those details the Bible doesn’t think are interesting enough to include.

Where did David get water from before he settled in the caves at Adullam? Could he devise a dew catcher out of materials available to him? If he passed by Jebus, could he access the Gihon Spring? Would the Jebusites let a random traveler get water there? What is the landscape like from Gibeah to Nob? What kind of vegetation is around there? Would there be any shade for him? Any caves? What would the evening and day temperatures be?

So I’m obsessing again, one question leading to another leading to another leading my to visiting the Calvin College library again. And browsing through the stacks leads me to finds I didn’t search for. Which will lead me to more specificity in the world I write about, which will hopefully lead to a richer reader experience.

This is good. This is beating back Resistance. For now.

If you have any techniques for beating back your Resistance, I’d love to hear about it.

STYTCD Performance Show 4

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

As much as I loved the Olympics (a lot!), I’m even happier that So You Think You Can Dance is back. Readers who enjoy my more wondering or personally embarrassing posts, I’ll catch you next time.

Tonight, they’ll be doing classic Mia Michaels routines. This will be … telling. Because not only will I pay attention to how well they dance the number, but I’ll be comparing them to the original pair. Who might be better and who will fall short. Mia’s body of work on this show is astonishing. I can’t wait.

Guest judges are actual, trained dancers. Shocking! Maybe their comments will be meaningful. For once.

New Mia Michaels’ group routine was interesting. She actually gave five of the girls something interesting to do [she’s said in the past that she prefers choreographing for boys], although two girls got nada but standing around and flinging roses. Cool move with the boys upside down on the rope and both of them swinging around. Ultimately, given that the song had “ball and chain” in the chorus, it was a little too literal to have the girls actually tied down. Also, stop with the actual kissing. It’s distracting.

Cyrus and Eliana (from the teaser, I think they’re doing “Mercy,” one of my favorite numbers, originally killed by Twitch and Katie)
Very interesting. Cyrus isn’t as good a dancer as Twitch was, but he’s got the body language of this role down cold. I believe that he has nothing but contempt for this woman. That twitchy body roll on the door was incredible! And then again on a pause — nice touch! Nice switch from how Twitch did it. Katie had a manic energy that I loved more than Eliana’s performance. The star of this one for me was Cyrus.

Tiffany and George (Oh dear, they’re doing a Katie and Joshua number. They were the best pairing ever on this show.) (I’m with George on one of his favorite SYTYCD moments: Wade Robson’s Ram-a-lam-a zombie number gave me goosebumps.) (Oh dear, this is one of the best dances ever done on the show. I’m nervous for them.)
Again, I liked George in this, but prefer Katie’s dancing. Because George isn’t as buff as Joshua, he came off as more vulnerable. Which really worked for this number. Ooh was that first guest guy right: there were two solos, they were not dancing truly together. The assisted run was meh, whereas when Katie and Joshua did it, it took my breath away. Tiffany was *dancing* it, Katie made me believe she was living it.

Here’s the problem with tonight: nothing can be a revelation. I can never let myself go into any of these numbers because I’m always comparing. That’s a disservice to these dancers. I’m glad they get to do such top-notch choreography, but I’m finding the experience of watching it a bit of a downer.

Amelia and Will (No idea what number they’re doing. I don’t remember those costumes. Oh yeah, “the butt dance.” Still don’t remember it.)
They gave the quirky dance to the quirky people, which is too much competing quirk. This didn’t do it for me. At all. I don’t remember it from the original season, either. Meh.

Janelle and Darian (ah, the bed routine, originally Kherington and Twitch)
Finally! This one was better than the original! Darian really danced. I remember Twitch flailing and bouncing, but this was heart-rending dancing. And Janelle was wonderful, so emotional. Mia didn’t give her much to do, but she really performed it. Kherington had the inappropriate smiling problem, but these two presented a real story and I felt their heartbreak.

Audrey and Matthew (the piece about Mia losing her father.)
It was nice. The original was a weepfest, but this was sweet. Which is the damning with faint praise that it sounds like it is.

Witney and Chehon (Travis and Heidi’s bench number)
I loved their version. Witney was so tender, so much more tender and hopeful than Heidi had been. They were marvelous together. The dancing was excellent, but what’s special about them is that they manage to be a real partnership, really focused on each other and the story the whole time.

Lindsay and Cole (Addiction number. I think these two can do it. Cole will not have any difficulty being strong and sharp. )
It was interesting. There were moments, there were great moments. Cole looked more like a junkie and less in control of Lindsay than in the previous version, but that really worked sometimes. Cole wasn’t evil-looking and sinister like Kupono was, but he was completely emotionally divorced from her, which ended up working. Lindsay was wonderful. She managed to not be “pretty,” although I wish they’d put her hair partially back; I really wanted to see her face more than I did.

Losing 4 people tonight.

I hope the girls going will be Janelle and Amelia, both of whom are great when they do their own stuff, but can seriously lack charisma in other stuff. Lindsay has been really great two weeks in a row, and seems a lot more versatile than the other two. Also, it’d be a shame to lose those long, long, gorgeous legs.

I think they’ll keep George, as he’s more interesting than the other two. Darian killed his solo, but he has that problem with the lines of his feet they’re always bringing up. And Matthew is pretty, but lacking charisma and connection in anything but his own style. And Matthew’s solo was oddly feminine, with tons of sticking his leg up into the splits and flailing around.

I’m right on Lindsay. Right on George. It’ll be a fantastic top 10. A truly interesting group to watch. Will they be bringing back the All Stars? I hope so. That worked well last year, and bumped up everyone’s game. Yay! All Stars next week. This is going to be gooood.

My Minor “McKayla Maroney Is Not Impressed” Moment

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

I admit it. I enjoy the current meme of putting this image of McKayla Maroney on other photos. I wasn’t all that impressed with George Michael last night, either.

But I also have sympathy for her. Here she is, at the moment she expected to triumph, and that everyone else expected her to triumph, to cement herself as the best vaulter in women’s gymnastics, accepting second best. Of course, second best is pretty darn good. But still, it wasn’t how her story was supposed to end (words that always get us into trouble). And the only one she could be upset with was herself. She was the one who messed up. She’s only 16. It’s the rare teenager who could put a genuine smile on his or her face in that situation.

I was not a rare teenager, either. I was 14. It was at the end of my session at Circle Square Ranch, a Christian horse riding camp in Ontario. I’d spent most of the week in the mildest of romances with a boy — we sat next to each other whenever possible, maneuvered ourselves to be in the same groups, held sweaty little hands now and then. The only thing I remember about him, other than straight brown hair (think early Justin Bieber), was that at one of the evening chapels he sang the theme song of “M*A*S*H,” but changed to lyrics to be Christian in some way. My young heart pounded with love and admiration (now, it’d get an eye-roll).

Mild though the romance may have been, it was recognized and acknowledged by our fellow campers. It was a similar relationship to that of my 3rd grade boyfriend, who I broke up with when he kissed me on the stairs in front of everybody. This camp boy never tried to kiss me, although I may not have minded so much by then.

Circle Square Ranch had what I’m sure they thought of as a charming tradition, an end of the week “formal” dinner. It was required that boys and girls went as dates to this dinner. It was required that boys ask the girls and the girl must say “yes” to the first boy who requested her hand. You may sense where this is going. The right boy got to me five minutes too late. Other kids gasped when they heard about it, so I wasn’t the only one who thought this was a massive disappointment, a violation of how things should’ve gone.

Am I sounding too dramatic? Think back to when you were 14.

But it gets worse. The camp was shooting a promotional video of the dinner. I must’ve stayed for two weeks, because the next week, as a great treat, we got to watch the video. Seeing myself on film has always been galvanizing — the following August, on a family camping trip, my dad brought his newest gadget. He filmed me walking on the beach, from the side, with those grew-tall-too-early rounded shoulders, which I was able to see made me look heavier and depressed. You can thank this experience for my excellent posture.

Lessons learned from the camp video:

1. Do not hunch over my food.
2. Pouting like that only looks good on kids 3 and under.
3. Do not put so much mashed potato in my mouth at one time.
4. To be on the safe side, never allow a photo or video to be taken of me while eating.
5. I was choosing to be miserable — I could easily have chosen to have a fine time with the people at my table.

For the most part, I’ve managed to live by those lessons. This experience may even have been the beginning of my feminist leanings, because, really, the whole only-boys-may-ask-girls-who-must-say-yes was patriarchal and ridiculous, not to mention unnecessary at camp.

So thank you, Circle Square Ranch, for teaching me so many important things, although it was none of the things you intended. Also, just so they feel better, I still remember the memory verse: “And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature and in favour with God and man.” Which I would now change to “in favor with God and with people.” Forget about making them feel better.

 

Anybody Else Need a Hand Slap?

~ Natalie Hart ~ 1 Comment

No, I don’t mean a “you’ve been naughty” slap. Or a “stop that” slap. I’m talking about the practice of volleyball teams to slap hands with each other when a point doesn’t go their way. (Of course, nobody else finds it interesting, so I have no photo to go along with this.)

I have a hard time tearing myself away from Olympics coverage, which means I wind up seeing sports I’d never watched for any length of time before. I’ve been struck by how supportive volleyball teams are. After every point that goes their way, they huddle and clap each other on the back or shoulder. After points they lose, they make a point of going around to almost every player and slapping palms with them, as if saying, “alright, next one,” “we’re still good.” No matter what, they affirm that they are in it together.

It’s part of the rhythm of every point, with every team that I’ve seen.

Which makes me think about failure and disappointment in my life. I tend to make a big deal out of them. I stew about them for a while before I say anything, and when I do say something, I’m rather emotional (this may be an understatement). And then I mull it over afterwards. This takes a lot of time and way too much energy. Maybe that’s why the matter-of-fact hand slap looks so appealing: no emotion, no recrimination. Just an understanding that failure happens, it’ll happen to all of us, we have another chance to not fail in 30 seconds, meanwhile, I’m here for you.

I’m focusing here on those hundreds of little failures: anger and irritation flaming out, saying something that unintentionally hurts someone you care for, not doing something you say you’re going to do. I need to work on being more matter-of-fact about these. On giving myself or my loved ones the equivalent of a simple clap of palms together to acknowledge that this whatever didn’t work out the way we’d hoped, but we’re in it together, let’s get ready for the next thing.

There have been times I’ve done this well with the kids, when I’d send us all to our rooms without a big fuss when it was clear we weren’t working well together. But I didn’t do so well yesterday, when both my kids sprung sudden school activities on me that required outlays of money and time and which they’d never done before, so I let my irritation and anxiety get the better of me. Not horribly, and things will work out fine with both things, but I don’t like how I handled it. I need to give myself and the kids the hand slap and move on.

I might try to cultivate this for bigger things, too. As regular readers know, my family left our longtime church two months ago. It still makes me very emotional; I still cry during every church service we aren’t at our old church. It’s not a crime to cry in church, of course, but I’d like to stop being so actively sad so I can better get ready for the next thing. Because the next thing is upon me. We start at a new church soon, my husband in an official capacity, and I don’t want to give the new people the impression that I’m not happy to be there — because I am glad to be there, I’m still just sad about the other.

Do I need to work on the volleyball hand slap approach? Or is that impossible while I’m still grieving the place I left?

Let me throw in another analogy, just to keep things interesting. In my favorite summer TV show (other than the Olympics), So You Think You Can Dance, dancers are put in partnerships that last about half the season (unless one of them leaves the show and partnerships get shuffled). Some of those pairings have amazing chemistry from the beginning, some pairs have to work up to it. But then, when they reach the top 10, partnerships get switched every week, and every week they have to do their best with someone new. The winners are those who can make any partnership, any style of dance look good.

I had great and immediate chemistry with my prior church partner, but I can’t be with them anymore. I have a new partner. It isn’t the same as the old one, but it’s got its own style. It’ll do some things better, other things not as well. I need to give myself fully to this partnership, learn its strengths, and do everything I can to make this successful, which, in my terms, means that I serve God’s people and bring glory to God’s kingdom.

We’ll see on Sunday whether I managed to analogize myself out of crying.

 

 

 

Sputtin’ on Wisdom

~ Natalie Hart ~ 6 Comments

Spotten is a great word from my youth. It’s a warning that the joking you’re doing about church/God/the Bible is teetering on the line between affectionate and offensive. The line, of course, is subjective, but I’ll try not to go too far. [finally got the correct spelling from my father: a Dutch word meaning blasphemy]

In late 2010, I started reading at Genesis 1:1 with the intention to read the Bible all the way through from beginning to end. I had no timetable. Which was good, because two and a half years later, I’m only at Proverbs 9. There were a few hiccups, a few months-long pauses, but with the kids back in school this week, it’s my chance to get back into routine. Sometimes, it’s a pleasure; it was this project that got me going on reimagining the story of David and Saul. And sometimes it’s a struggle to find “the personal application.”

Like yesterday. Proverbs 6 & 7 are all about keeping away from the immoral woman, on and on about the immoral woman. Sure, I turned this into a warning to keep away from ideas or people who will try to seduce me away from what I know to be right and good, but there was a nagging voice in my head, “As if the man would be pure as the driven snow if only the bad woman didn’t thrust herself right up in his face and offer herself to him.” Hmph.

And then today’s selection (Prov. 8-9) had wisdom as a woman standing at the crossroads and city gates yelling at people. I grew up in Toronto and lived in NYC for several years and this description made me think of homeless people I’d see on the street — dirty, smelly, hair matted, ranting. For someone whose fourth sentence is, “Let me give you common sense” (8:3), screaming at passersby doesn’t seem like the most common-sense way to get your point across.

So I’m not starting off in a terribly holy mental place. It didn’t get much better with, “Good advice and success belong to me. Insight and strength are mine. Because of me, kings reign, and rules make just laws. Rulers lead with my help, and nobles make righteous judgments” (8:14-16). This is fine when about wisdom generally, but put in the mouth of my mentally imbalanced woman ranting on the corner, not so much.

How about our crazy lady coming out with this? “Unending riches, honor, wealth and justice are mine to distribute. My gifts are better than the purest gold, my wages better than sterling silver!” (8:17-19). And then she gets all trippy: “I was born before the oceans were created, before the springs bubbled forth their waters….I was there when [God] established the heavens, when he drew the horizon on the oceans. I was there when he established the deep fountains of the earth….And when he marked off the earth’s foundations, I was the architect at his side” (8:27-31).

So I was constantly fighting with myself, smirking at my mental images and trying to rein them in so I could find the message in there.

And then came this, which smacked me between the eyes. “But the wise, when rebuked, will love you all the more. Teach the wise, and they will be wiser. Teach the righteous, and they will learn more” (9:8-9).

The typical image of the wise person, or the person with the gift of wisdom, is of someone with something to say that you need to listen to. The person may come across as haranguing (see above) or as gentle, but he or she always has a message to improve your life. This is utterly different. This is the wise person as the one who is teachable, the one who is open to correction.

Someone recently told me that I had the gift of wisdom, which really surprised me. I think of myself as having an analytic and occasionally perceptive mind. Now and then, there’s a flash of insight or connection and I do have something to say. But my faults are ever before me. The things say are not always well-thought-out and are sometimes hurtful in ways in didn’t intend. My desires and plans so far outstrip my actions that it’s embarrassing. I have so much to learn.

And that’s where the 9:9 passage gets me: I can pursue wisdom by being teachable. And Christianity being what it is, it won’t be information I’ll be seeking. It’ll be my way of life, my ability to follow through, my regular practice of opening myself up to what I read in the Bible and what I hear from God in all the ways He communicates with me.

So even when my snarkiness gets in the way of what I’m reading, God can still sneak in and teach me.

Review: The Mighty Miss Malone

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

Books like this are why I love to read and why I want to write. Miss Deza Malone is a diamond of a character. It isn’t just that she is bright and has a sparkling personality (both of which are true), but it’s also that she is so clear. Christopher Paul Curtis has given us a child who is clear about who she is. She knows herself, her family, her community.

What a pleasure to read about a child who has been loved and known and encouraged by an intact family for her entire 12 years. I adore the Malone family — not perfect, but real and loving and firm and funny. Deza’s compass for truth and nonsense come straight from what her parents taught her and what she observes of how the world works. The family has a hand signal to warn each other that they know someone is trying to string them along: they put their hands on the imaginary steering wheel of the Manipula-Mobile. The father often speaks in alliteration, and has long alliterative names for everyone. They so clearly love each other. So often, main characters in children’s lit are orphans, or one parent has died, or they have at least one terrible parent, so it’s a testament to Mr. Curtis’s skill that he crafts such a dramatic story for this great family.

Deza is intelligent and curious and asks for an explanation when she runs across something she doesn’t understand. That last thing is a great personality trait in a character, because the author gets to explain things that would be beyond a child’s normal understanding or experience. It is a regular refrain in the book that she will become a writer, that she’ll go to college. Deza lodged herself in my heart and I’m dying to know whether any of that happened. PLEASE, Mr. Curtis, write a sequel some day.

She’s also self-aware. I loved how she’d talk about her reactions when things didn’t go her way or something really bad was happening.

I’m different from most people and one of the main reasons is, I think I might have two brains. Whenever I get nervous or mad or scared or very upset, I have thoughts that are so different from my normal thoughts that there isn’t any way they could be coming from just one brain (p31).

She usually grits her rotting back teeth until the pain stops the bad brain, because she is a child who values truth and honesty. But the couple of times she takes the bad brain’s counsel are fantastic.

 The Mighty Miss Malone is, akin to the Newberry-winning, Bud, Not Buddy, a road book for part of the time. The book takes place in mid-1930s Gary, Indiana and Flint, Michigan, cities that were devastated by the Great Depression, even more so for Deza because she and her family are African-American. She and her mother and brother ride the rails and live in a shantytown — where she meets Bud. Deza appeared in Bud, No Buddy, so here we get the same scene from her point of view. (I didn’t remember this. It had been years since I’d read Bud, so I had to google it.) It’s a sweet little moment.

I won’t tell you all the stuff that happens, but, in many ways, it’s typical of other stories about the Depression: the father leaves to find work, promising to send money, and then doesn’t. Things get really tough. Here’s how Deza describes it.

If somebody came along and saw us walking they’d mistake us for a very quiet parade instead of what we really were, a river of people who didn’t know what city we’d be in tomorrow, or what we’d be eating, or even where somebody would let us stop and rest (p227).

Hoping is such hard work. It tires you out and you never seem to get any kind of reward. Hoping feels like you’re a balloon that has a pinhole that slowly leaks air (p232).

And I won’t tell you how it ends, either, but it makes you root for them to get to where their family motto says they’re heading: “We are a family on a journey to a place called Wonderful.”

Well, this novel is wonderful, and the cover is killer good. Along with being a good, dramatic story, it’s accurate history. I highly recommend it.

SYTCD: Performance Show 3

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

I love So You Think You Can Dance. The dancers are young and at the top of their game. They show every style of dance. It is wonderful and inspiring! And because I have a blog in which I write about things I think are wonderful, I can indulge my passion for the show and my many opinions about the dancers and dancing. If this isn’t your thing, I’ll catch you next time.

George and Tiffany: That was some great, precise, fast hip hop. I was impressed with how they did, although those outfits didn’t do them any favors — way too heavy with the cutesy. Their moves had more toughness than their costumes gave the impression of. And I remember how great Christina Applegate was as a judge last year; love her suggestion to make the slow moves “soupier.” She was right on.

Brandon and Amber: This is one of the new partnerships after last week’s eliminations, and I’m looking forward to it. Brandon is a better partner for Amber than Nick was. She looked so much physically stronger than Nick, but Brandon is big enough to make her look little and delicate. Amber was amazing. Her smile was so personal, not at all a big “I’m dancing on the stage and don’t I look pretty” smile. Her dancing was free and strong and gorgeous. It came from way inside. She way out-danced Brandon. He was fine, but this one was all about Amber. In that way, it kind of reminds me of several seasons ago, the dance Twitch and Katie did to “Mercy” — Katie did all the athletic and amazing stuff and Twitch mostly strutted around looking hot and lifting her now and then.

Darien and Janelle: It wasn’t a particularly sexy Latin dance, and it wasn’t technically great, but it was cute. I have a thing for men on this show who have eyes-only for their partner, and he looked at her like they were dancing for real. I’m worried that they’re in the bottom three, because these comments are worse than I would’ve expected (and the judges already know who’s in the bottom).

Cole and  Lindsey: The first week, they did the best Paso Doble I’ve ever seen on this show. For the first time, the dance didn’t seem like a histrionic joke. However, their choreography didn’t do them any favors last week. Fingers crossed about them getting Mandy Moore this week. I didn’t get the “story,” but that was gorgeous, the two of them so strong with such long, beautiful legs. The lighting was the best ever, not distracting, helped us focus on the dancing. Cole is so explosive with his movement, and can be so light, just wonderful. Christina is right about the hair hiding her face too much. I really liked this one.

Will and Amelia: There really was something about Will in this number. I would never have thought to put him in a white suit, but he looked great in it. His movement worked well with it. I didn’t think Amelia’s quirk fit with this number. There wasn’t enough to connect with. But he did the “care for his partner” thing that I like so much.

Ryan Gosling, oops, I mean Matthew and Audrey: Oh no. I have a sense of foreboding. They are wearing the kiss of death matching red shiny costumes that Daniel and whatsername were stuck with the first week. Fingers crossed that these two pull it off and that Audrey can lose her “cute” for the salsa. Nope. No sex appeal. Great moves and tricks, but little connection with each other. The music was too grandiose for them.

Chehon and Witney (yes I spelled that correctly): I have high hopes for these two, especially if Chehon can finally release his ballet posture. I love me some Stacey Tookie. LOVED THIS. On a purely frivolous note, Chehon should always dance shirtless. But this had emotion and tenderness and passion and I loved it. Great combination of speed and slow. Crazy big opening lift. Insane for the move when he pushed her across the stage from behind. The two times she just put her head on his arm. It was all just perfect. It made me teary and gave me goosebumps. Best number of the night, and possibly of the season so far.

Cyrus and Eliana: Big hopes for this. The last time a real hip hop person and a ballet dancer did a Nappy Tabs routine, it was insanely good. This was really good; not as exhilarating as Twitch and Alex Wong, but so, so good. The charm of these two dancers was off the charts. And Eliana locked and isolated so well. Actually, Christina came up with the best word for this routine: sublime.

Nervous about the bottom three. This time, it contains people I really like, and people who danced really well tonight. I predict Amber and Brandon will go home. Their solos didn’t connect; they were too flaily (yes, I just made up that word, means “too much flailing about”).

And we get Alvin Ailey dancers. I am a happy woman. Although I am also a little shallow. The skirts these men are wearing look like the kind of skirts the women on this show often wear during the paso doble — reversible matador capes. This is a little distracting to me, but now that I’ve gotten that comment out of my system, maybe I can concentrate on the dance a little better. I’d call this, “histrionic androgyny.” It was physically demanding and cool, but I wasn’t feeling it.

I was right about both. At least Amber got to go out on such an amazingly high note.