I have a document on my computer, and a folder on Evernote, filled with writer quotes that ring true for me. And I fill it with my own personal rules too. Things like, but not exactly – because this folder is just for me – I won’t follow trends, I’ll write for the love of it, No unnecessary cussing. (Remember these are variations on what I really have in there.)

Well if, and I’m not saying I did, but if I’d been recently struggling to find the courage to develop yet another story, The Golden Globes went a long way toward the effort. Because where you might see a really long commercial for current releases and several DVDs or perhaps a mutual congratulations club among a group of people who take themselves way too seriously as often as they laugh, I see the inspiration to work hard at this thing called art, to believe in what you do, to do what you love, and to say something now and then – something that will last or at least for a moment, matter.

When Nathan Bransford asked, I chose from his multiple choice that I wrote to change the world. But I wouldn’t say that now. It’s more like I write to take the good things in the world and make sure you know they are there. Or sometimes, if I can accomplish it, to take the troubling things and make sure you know there is hope.

I saw two music-movies this weekend. I love music-movies despite the fact that I’m one of those people who watches the VMAs to mostly say, “Who the heck is that?” Aside: I have a few thoughts on last night’s Video Music Awards, though they’ve mostly all been said, and I will only add my own observation that I find a true singer in NORMAL clothes backed by beautiful piano (and/or in a sparkly tux backed by dancers a la Beyonce) such a refreshing breath of BRILLIANCE next to all that exhibitionary crazysauce. Carrying on.

Country Strong broke my heart. That’s the first movie I saw, Country Strong with Gweneth Paltrow, Tim McGraw, and other people I didn’t really know. It’s very country – you should know that going in. And it’s very win-some, lose-some. One character loses the struggle between the pursuit of life and the pursuit of fame. She really, really loses. But between the good things she said and the fact that they witnessed her struggle so intimately, two other characters totally figure it out. I. Bawled. And I bawled at the sad part, so it definitely lives in my mind as a terribly sad film with a powerful message and a couple of memorable songs – if you can stand the country, which I can.

Justin Bieber mended it. I completely missed Justin Bieber as a You Tube sensation and then only vaguely began to notice him when you simply couldn’t not.

Still, I wanted to see his movie, Never Say Never. I believed all the famous people who said it was moving/inspiring/convincing-as-a-reason-to-like-the-kid. And the only comments I heard online were similar to what I expected to feel: Surrender from indifference to some level of appreciation. In fact, I expected to totally like the guy after watching it.

And – I’m going to lose so many of my readers for this – I totally do. It wasn’t the kind of inspiration I expected. He’s neither a musical child prodigy nor a kid with an unnatural diligence for music lessons. He’s just a kid with a really nice voice and a pretty natural sense of rhythm who really wanted to take them both to the stage. He wasn’t poor or sad or alone before he was discovered. And he wasn’t so much an overnight sensation as an over-year sensation based on major persistence. (Mostly with social networking and You Tube – thus the uniqueness of his fame since that hasn’t worked quite this well with anyone else).

The thing is, I cared that he sold out Madison Square Garden when it’s what he aimed to do. I like the song Never Say Never and a couple others on the DVD as well. I love the part where his dad cries, the part where his grandpa cries, and the part where his mom says what she wants most is that he get his worth not from what he does but from who he is. I even told my boys they should watch it because it will inspire you to go for your dreams and it will teach you that you have to work for them. Also – though I didn’t tell them this – it encourages you to pray before concerts, to pray when you’re sick, and to pray over your pizza even when it’s just you and three other teenage boys. I liked that part too.

There’s only one part I’m not so sure about, and that’s the One-Less-Lonely-Girl portion of the concert where he sings a song of the same lyrics and they bring up a random girl from the audience for him to sing it to. She is weeping, and I can’t decide if I like that she gets to feel special or if I want to weep myself with the fear that having Justin Bieber sing to you one time at a concert is probably more likely to increase your future loneliness in life than to cure it. I’d be less likely to show this movie to daughters if I had them than I am to show it to my boys. I didn’t personally struggle with the difference between being inspired by him and being inspired that marrying him is the only way my life could have meaning. Many little girls might. Though I’m probably not giving little girls enough credit here. Infatuations with Bieber-types are, after all, usually just a phase.

Now, I’m kind of doubting any of my normal commenters saw this film, nor many of my readers. It will be so fun if one of you proves me wrong. The rest of you should probably know I will  from now on discourage Bieber-hating in my presence. Though, if you know me, you can imagine I probably would have discouraged this anyway.

Image Source

Now, after crying and aching and laughing and gasping at the movie, I am wondering afresh – in somewhat hushed, don’t-kill-me-tones, if you made me choose, which medium I prefer: Books or Film. When I look at my bookshelf or the recommend-shelf on Goodreads (and in my sidebar), I know there isn’t any question. I love words.

But then I watch the sweeping cinematography of an epic movie or want to wear the fashions or eat the food in a particularly rich and visceral scene, and I think it might be film.

I like books that talk about movies and movies that talk about books. I like books made into movies. I like stacks and stacks of both inside my home.

I don’t have to choose, right? After all, they both have words. They both tell stories. They have both enriched my world and made me want to be a part of the enriching.

Right now I’m revising a novel that celebrates storytelling and story-living and this passion for the business of the first. And I’m desperate to finish it but more importantly to finish it well. And so although I’m writing every night and filled with intense pleasure  when that’s the case and vague despondency when it’s not, I’m also taking breaks to read beautiful things and watch beautiful films and remember why I’m doing this in the first place and attempt to learn the best and brightest ways to do it. It’s not my only job, but it’s my favorite one (second to Being Mama) – this writing and consuming-to-learn. And this weekend, that job brought me The Help, which I can’t recommend enough, along with these wise words someone gave to accompany it: I wonder what our generation believes (a la separate-but-equal) that will one day embarrass our children.

You see what I mean about enrichment? What a wonderful challenge to take away from a theater.

Now it’s my new fave, an anthem for all the best things that have ever happened and all the best things I hope to happen in the future.

This night is sparkling, the lyrics say.

Don’t you let it go

I’m wonderstruck

Blushing all the way home

I’ll spend forever

Wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

The song in her own words describes a night in New York City when she’d met someone new. As she rode away later, the lights of New York City sparkled, and she felt that excited rush of emotions, grateful for the new acquaintance, hopeful for the future, wondering where it might lead. And the music and lyrics capture all that so well.

The words she uses were surely minted with just that emotion in mind: Sparkling, wonderstruck, enchanted. It reminds me of a children’s book I began once and how I stuffed it full of words that made me feel the emotion I was trying to capture. Words like apple and red-and-silver icing.

I love the song because it doesn’t only remind me of its most literal inference – the traditional crush. It makes me think of all the good things that ever happened, all the moments in life that make the monotony worth it. The moment when I first met each of my sons. New friendships that quickly and easily move into old ones. The people and moments that left me starstruck, whether they were famous at all or simply ordinary but wonderful. And definitely, definitely, especially considering the story behind the song, it reminds me of the first time I met New York City.

I’ve said before that there are emotions I wish I could bottle into my writing. I’m thinking of tweaking my personal mission statement as an author to this: Write books that feel like a song by Taylor Swift. Write books that leave people feeling enchanted.

(Image from People.com)

Sledding on splinters in April. Sometime the ideas just flow, don’t they?

**

It happened to me the other day. I was watching a DVD special feature. I’ve gotten TONS of inspiration watching DVD special features. I adore them. They make me want to be in movies even more than I normally want to be in them.

It was for the movie The Switch in which Jennifer Aniston’s character – GASP – has a baby via a seed guy instead of a husband. You may have noticed a slight upheaval in the force around this time because Bill O’Reilly said it was irresponsible of her to promote a life choice like that and she said, What do I care what Bill O’Reilly says? Or something like that. And I say, did he watch the movie? Because if it was trying to promote a message that the non-traditional family is just as good as the traditional one, it did a really poor job. The movie practically screams, kids want a dad. But I’m getting off-topic, because none of that led to the ideas-just-flowing moment for me.

I was first inspired when the featurette told me that the movie was based on a short story from the New Yorker. Because, as you know, I get that magazine now. And I love it when dots connect like that, (i.e., the stuff I read could lead to anything, including future movies). But then the part I really liked. A guy was describing Jason Bateman’s character arc in the movie, and he said:

You might be in New York and be a totally narcissistic, material, career-oriented person; but given enough time and people who intrude in your life, if you open up to it, you have a chance of becoming a much better person than you were in the beginning.

And this was the inspiring thing, because I think people write fiction for different reasons, and this reminded me why I want to write it.

I used to not know what I wanted to write at all. I didn’t know what audience I wanted to write for. I didn’t know what I wanted to say to them or how I wanted to say it. But now, I do know those things.

Some people write fiction, I think, because their head is full of imaginative characters and mysteries and plot twists. My head, though, is full of things like this quote. Things like: Isn’t it cool that people can change? And, Unlikely friendships are the most beautiful ones. And, Sometimes we think our purpose is one thing and life shows us, it’s another. And fiction lets me wrap up those ideas in a million different packages – or several anyway – and tell them in story form, with many different characters and padded with many different settings and details.

This is the challenge: To tell the story without worrying whether the reader can state my idea back to me. Because if they can, I haven’t told a story – I’ve told a sermon.

When I got the attention of my literary agent I’d never tried this before, except in short stories – and only one or two of those. I was used to stating my ideas flat out, like a blog post or a memoir. So I’m still learning the story way. But that comment reminded me how thrilling that challenge is, how awesome it will be someday for someone to talk about a story I told and get from it the idea that I started with in the first place. But also, how amazing it will be if they get a wholly different idea as well, because the characters were just that real to them and the story that full of possibility.

Dan White at danieljohnmusic has links to all the other goodness in case you’re hooked.

**

Dear Artist, Writer, Musician, Creator…

Thanks for pouring your sweat and tears into that painting I couldn’t stop staring at, feeling I was inside, hoping what’s inside me means as much.

Thanks for writing that song late at night after spending what you thought was all the energy you had on loving and caring for your kids, chasing them one more time around the room, reading them Goodnight Moon until you could recite it backwards. The chasing forever changed them. The song forever changed me.

Thanks for spending your days in dark rooms, tiny offices, old studios, and locations far away from home to produce that book or film I’ll turn to again and again for laughter on a Monday, encouragement after a sorrow, hope when hope seems lost, courage when I feel like giving up.

You work so hard where we can’t see you. You press through your own pain or trouble, the fact that it’s easier not to try, the reality that there are plenty of other things to do. And then you put that work out into the world, knowing some of us might stand right up and squash it. There might be criticism, those who love it might not praise enough. You take that risk, because you hope it will find the ones, at least one, who’ll understand. That even though they didn’t see the blood, the sweat, the tears, they’re moved as if they had.

Thank you for inspiring me to create every day, to pour myself out too, knowing that it’s what I’m meant to do, even if I cannot do it only. It’s nice to picture you there, writing the next song that will play behind my tears while I write the next sentence toward a finished something, a thing I’ll eventually put out there too, because you were brave and did it first.

Because we need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet…I mean, what does any one life mean? But in a marriage you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things – all of it, all the time, every day. You’re saying, ‘Your life will not go unnoticed, because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed, because I will be your witness.’

I love this as a marriage quote, but I think it has other uses. A reminder to listen as much or more than we talk. A reminder to be there for people, relate to them, convince them they’re not alone.

I saw some performance art the other day that was a woman sitting in a chair staring at the person who was sitting in the other chair. She just looked at them, straight in their eyes. She cried sometimes. So did they. And the guy describing the piece said, “We all want to feel connection.”

Isn’t that the truth?

I want to be a witness to my husband and to my boys. I want to notice my friends. I want to see a stranger do something nice at the grocery store and then I’ll smile at them and let them know I saw. Notice, notice, notice. Notice somebody else and I guarantee you’ll stop feeling like just one of six billion people yourself.

If you know the blog at all, you know the Oscars delight me. So you’re probably wondering if – well – if they did. Plus, the last post was sadness wrapped in heartbreak, so you might be waiting to find out if I’ve unwrapped from that.

So this is a yes to the first and a mostly to the second.

I adored the Oscars. I loved Anne Hathaway. I even loved James Franco, and there’s really no good reason for that. I loved Billy Crystal, Reese Witherspoon’s ponytail, all the red, THE KING’S SPEECH, Tom Hooper’s mom, Mark Whalberg’s mom, every single mom. The set was my favorite Oscar set ever. And I’ve never ever never seen it end so beautifully. Usually, the best-picture presenter just says goodbye and have a great night. But last night those adorable children! And they sang the world’s most inspiring song ever!

And just like the Oscars came through for me as always, so did my friend, the beautiful Michele. She puts out the red carpet for me and makes food to represent the various films, and decorates her home with movie magic, and wraps me in a boa, and places me in front of the show with so much love and so much celebration and so much I-get-you-Serenity that I really don’t know how actually being there could compare.

On Oprah today as I watched the various winners grip their Oscar and talk about it as if it were a person and beam and glow with the thrill of having been recognized that way, I didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy. Not a twinge. Because I thought of the hundreds and thousands of actors who give every bit as much of themselves to even the smallest parts of even the most unknown films in the world who’ve never gotten an Oscar and maybe never will. They have to find within themselves the validation that they gave their all. They have to know in their own heart that it’s just as difficult to cry your heart out over your fictional bad day on a Lifetime movie as it is to cry because you just don’t feel like a king.

And that’s what we all have to do. We have to find it within ourselves. I’m doing my best. I made someone’s day. It matters that I wrote to Grandma last week. I rock for remembering my sister-in-law’s birthday. The things I want most I pursue with all my heart. I have friends, which means I behave in some way that makes people hang around and stay in like with me even though they don’t have to.

I love the Oscars because they inspire me. I love them because I want to be there someday. I love them because it doesn’t matter if I never am. If happy little blue birds…so can I.

I was so happy this week when I stumbled out of an I-just-went-through-chemo-oh-my-god stupor to actually turn on the television one night and find The Critics Choice Awards. Strangely, considering my obsession, it wasn’t until last year that I discovered you can learn a lot about awards season if you watch all the awards shows and not just the Golden Globes and Oscars. Watch them all, and you can totally win the ballot game. It was during the Critics Choice that I saw a commercial for the Golden Globes and realized they would be on THAT SUNDAY. In my world, that was a close one.

So there I sat Sunday night, happily nested in front of my beautiful t.v., facing three full hours of beautiful people and the art form they love. Oh the happiness.

It pretty much delivered too, though I am very non-critical of these things as a general rule anyway. It would be hard to disappoint me, I’m just sayin. I took notes, and here’s a list of what made me the happiest during those happy three hours.

Anne Hathaway – Hands down, my favorite person to look at this time. I saw Angelina Jolie’s shoulder-padded dress first and said ew and oh darn, I knew those would come back. But then I saw Ms. Hathaway, and I was mesmerized. I thought she looked beautiful and happy – it’s very hard to win best-dressed lists at these things with your hair down and she DID it – and then she said that she felt that way during the red carpet session (toning it down to, “I feel….very nice….in this dress”) and I loved her for appreciating the dress she was in, the moment she was in, the life she was living. (Click her name for pics of both shoulder pad looks and HERE for one of my other faves, Emma Stone).

GLEE – This show lost a lot of people I know and love because it pushes appropriateness boundaries too often. But “the characters periodically burst into song and dance about the stage”, and this I love. So I enjoyed all its wins last night. Especially Kurt. When he accepted his award, all I could think was that sometimes we could all learn a lot from Hollywood about how to love. This industry is full of people whose personalities and lifestyles range from artsy to unique to controversial. Despite the accolades we give the industry as a whole, its members are sometimes people who know exactly what it means to be outside instead of in. They like to express this in their films. And when those films get noticed, they feel they’ve done something – maybe even changed the world like they always wished they could. This inspires me, someone who kind of wishes that too.

The Social Network – This movie wins the award for Best Example of How Awards Season Will Convince Me to Watch Something if Word-of-Mouth Didn’t. I’m renting it from Netflix this WEEK.

The Snark – Oh my, Ricky Gervais is mouthy. I actually enjoyed the way he came right out of the gate with meanness since I felt he was too toned down last year to be all that funny. But I really loved when someone finally called him out. Robert Downey, Jr., and I quote: “Aside from the fact that it’s been hugely mean-spirited with mildly sinister undertones, I’d say the vibe of the show has been pretty good so far, wouldn’t you?”

Brad and Angelina – I can’t help it. They’re beautiful together. It cut to commercial one time and the camera held on them as Angelina fixed his bow tie, their faces so close together. It was sweet. And then it panned on them a couple other times, and she leaned against his shoulder. Lately I totally believe her that she belongs first to her children and to him and second to Hollywood. She also always seems appropriately grateful for the fortune that is her salary and her job. And I appreciate that.

Michael Douglas – This is the reason I didn’t think about cancer for only almost three hours. Michael Douglas was the last presenter, and the audience was of course highly supportive and grateful to see him there and healthy. After the applause, he said, “There’s gotta be a better way to get a standing ovation.” And Michael and I deeply related.

**Note – this pic is from the Oscars two years ago. I couldn’t find a shiny Golden Globes pic from this year that I could use without stealing it. ;)

I’m writing about how I didn’t even realize Zac and Vanessa broke up until Lori On the Road told me so on my blog. And I don’t know how that’s possible. And don’t even get me started on Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson. I didn’t even know they were together, and now they too have called it quits. I could tell you it’s because I was too focused on cancer, but I’m pretty sure it’s because I was still in mourning over Courtney Cox and David Arquette.

I’m also going to tell you about all the pictures of Katie Holmes and Michelle Williams I’ve been perusing today because my sisters were trying to help me enjoy the idea of a short hair cut. Last month I decided to follow some advice to cut my hair short in order to make the chemo effects less traumatic. My mom and sisters – I gotta say pretty gladly – jumped at the chance to offer moral support by cutting theirs as well and keeping it short until mine begins to grow out again when the process is over. I didn’t love any of the pictures I saw because I was pretty sure they didn’t come with celebrity faces, celebrity dollars, or celebrity ability to make every style look on purpose.

While Jaylena cut my hair, I told her she was doing a great job, and she said, “But you hate it?” And I cried, “But I hate it!” But I didn’t actually cry with tears and such. I was pretty brave and the only freak-out moment came when one side was short and the other still had some long pieces, and I wanted to scream at her to STOP THE CUTTING! But the absurdity of keeping those few long strands kept me sane, and I didn’t scream that, and I made it to the end without freaking out again.

The thing is, I wasn’t really nervous about cutting my hair. I was nervous about everything else, and the hair was just a sign of it all.

**Tangled spoilers ahead**

My boys and I saw Disney’s Rapunzel movie, Tangled, together with my parents when it came out. I adored it – I think I told you that – but I cried a little more than I might have normally because the hair parts were just so poignant. You know how her hair glows and is all magical and healing when it’s long? Like magic sunshine? Then it gets cut in the end – I won’t tell you how, in case you don’t want spoilers but just had to keep reading anyway. But then when it’s cut, the magic turns out to still be there.

When we got home I said something about the poignancy and my tears. I said something about wishing I could have her long hair or wishing I had hair that could heal me or just wishing I didn’t have to cut it – something like that, and we can’t quite remember what it was that I said. But Michael turned to me and tugged the end of my hair and said, “The sunshine was inside her.”

And that’s why he’s the best person I could possibly go through all this with. And that’s why I think finding true love and holding onto it for-absolutely-ever is the best gift God has given us and the best gift we can give each other. And that’s why celebrity breakups break my heart.