What’s an “intelligence quotient” anyway? It means, roughly, what one’s mind is capable of in terms of intellectual activity and comprehension.  How flexible are the thought processes? What are the problem-solving capacities of a person?

We tend to distill this to, “How smart I am,” giving one a distorted sense of self.

The sad thing is that, for a long time, these numbers truly affected people. Maybe not so much now, but I know they were in play as I was growing up.  Maybe it’s because I went to school with “the gifted kids” in many instances, and so many of us had taken “IQ tests” and knew our scores and where we ranked on a scale.  I knew my brother, for example, was “one point shy” of being “a genius” as far as the official tests went. Knowing I wasn’t  ”as smart” as he was could have been a problem to my fragile feminine psyche.

BUT. See, I was blessed to live in a house where there was balance.  I was taught, as I indicated at the beginning, here, that that number over there? Only a mark on a chart. It didn’t mean anything practical. It is an indicator of potential, not possibilities.

I grew up knowing that yes, I had potential, but unless I could earn TWO dollars, instead of just having ONE, I still couldn’t buy a cup of coffee.  Applying that “intellect” a test said I had required work and determination.

If we could only measure those qualities on a scale, there’d be a lot more “gifted” people identified out there than there are.  The world is filled with hard-working, determined people who are true success stories.  And some of them aren’t even “test-able.”

Thank you for reading this mini-rant. I just had it on my mind and had to share it.

Now, I’m going to have another cup of coffee.  My husband – who also has a “high IQ” score – worked hard so that I could have a good cup of coffee.

Today, while waiting for my younger son to finish with his day at school, I sat in the waiting area/parent lounge/foyer and just typed.

Chapter Ten
Christmas Day, 1822

And then, without thinking too hard, I decided to give the son of my protagonists his horse. A little Welsh pony about which I did copious research quite some time ago.

Included with this vignette was some nice tension between the Hero and the Heroine.

And when I had plunked out three paragraphs, I allowed myself to engage in conversation with the other parents waiting for their children.

I feel really good about this.

I WILL finish this book. I will.

But not now. I have editing to do.

How Not to be Overwhelmed When Things Appear Overwhelming

“Wow, that’s a huge steak! How’re you gonna eat all that?” the little girl asked her uncle.

He grinned at her across the table and waved his fork.  ”One bite at a time!”

Sounds pretty silly, maybe.  Or too obvious.  But, it is a basic truth that sometimes is easy to forget. It is a truth that is too easy to put into practice, perhaps.

Consider it, however, as you contemplate goals and “New Year’s Resolutions.”

Possible Project:  Post-Holiday Clean-Up

Problem:  Too many new things, too many old things. Not enough time or room to put them away.

One bite at a time solution:  Start in one room, in one corner, and work your way around that one space.  Give yourself the “bite” for a first goal.  The area where you display the cards?  The holiday centerpieces? The decorative, seasonal throws over the sofa?  Start in one place. Sort, store in a box in the room in question, tidy that one area, including dusting or sweeping or anything you feel is needful.  Call it good and reward yourself.  When you have gone through a room in its entirety, you’ll have boxes that need tucking away. If you had a place for them before, return them there (garage, attic, basement). If you need to find MORE space, give yourself the permission to make it by judicious pruning of your current items in storage.

One bite at a time, one area, one room at a time, and the clean-up can be achieved. How long it takes is up to you.

Possible Project: Finish the Manuscript

Problem:  ”Did you read that? FINISH?  A whole MANUSCRIPT? For a NOVEL, maybe?  HUH?”

It’s intimidating to look at a possibly empty screen, or a paragraph of an idea, or an outline that goes nowhere and think that one can finish a project like this in a matter of weeks.

Yes, weeks. One year is only fifty-two weeks.  Or if you’re quick and organized, you can complete the manuscript in a month or three (depending upon your speed and dedication). That brings the time involved down to maybe twelve weeks.

Impossible? Not remotely.

One bite at a time solution:  If you look at a whole project as a whole, it can be daunting, so break your writing project up into smaller projects.  Research.  Basic storyline.  Outline.  Writing (in whatever sequence feels comfortable for you). Then, when the pieces are defined, you can break each section up into bite-size morsels of accomplishment.  Word count goals for a day’s writing, for example.

Saying, “I resolve to write a novel by Christmas” is a hugely intimidating prospect.  Saying, “I resolve to write 500 (1,000, 2,000, etc.) words a day” is much more manageable. Especially as you discipline yourself and find that you can whip off 500 words before breakfast if you’re in a good place, mentally.

For any kind of project, there are sub-goals.  Smaller things you can do, one bite at a time, to achieve your end.  Often, the only difference between a success and a failure is the willingness to take each bite with a smile.  Be willing to work at it and move on to the next.  You can chart your progress with To-Do lists (my favorite!) or a graph on a wall or by the amount of rewards you give yourself for each sub-goal reached.

And when you’re done, you might perhaps see that it wasn’t really as impossible as you thought it was going to be. After all, YOU DID IT!

I wish you all the best in 2012!

I’ve made the To Do List for the week. It includes the writing of chapters, the processing of laundry, and the rearranging of household objects.

I just wonder if I’m missing something.

SLEEP, maybe.

Happy Monday!

I was singing Christmas carols this morning. Well, no. I was singing along with Kathy Mattea’s album, Good News. And one verse of one of the songs (“Emmanuel”) mentioned the angels singing of Jesus’ birth.

Now, I know I’m a pain on many occasions, but I guess this is one of those things that bugs me.  Because the Bible does not say the angels sang.  Because when the Almighty God, Lord of Heaven and Earth, sent out a birth announcement, he didn’t send a singing telegram. He sent an army.

The Lord’s people had been waiting for a king, you see.  For thousands of years, the king had been promised.  Hundreds of years had been spent in preparation.  Hundreds of years of hope. Of waiting for a king.  A LORD. A ruler who would lead the people of God.

True to this royal image, when this King was born, God the Father sent a royal birth announcement.  Because back then, when kings wanted to communicate something of import, they didn’t send a letter. They sent a messenger. The more important the message, the larger the entourage that accompanied it.

When God gave his only begotten son to the world – a world he knew would vilify his son, a world he knew was undeserving, but a world he loved beyond comprehension – he sent an army to bring the message.

Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.  But the angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid, for look, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people:  today a Savior, who is Messiah the Lord, was born for you in the city of David. This will be the sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped snugly in cloth and lying in a feeding trough.”

Suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:  ”Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people He favors!”

(Luke 2:9-14, Holman Christian Standard Bible)

The first angel was the messenger. I am guessing that the others were doing some supernatural stealth maneuvers while one of their number shared the news, because it is highly likely that the shepherds wouldn’t have been able to comprehend the message due to sheer terror.

Angels, you see, weren’t meek little cherubs that sit on the shoulder.  The angels in the Bible almost always show up having to say, “Don’t be afraid!”

An odd thing to have to say when one is announcing the birth of a baby, but this was no ordinary little boy. He merited a birth announcement fit for a king.

For so he is.