Oooops!

I usually try to post early and have my blog ready so it posts automatically. However, I've been painting my house and then my mom came into town and I haven't checked my emails and missed my reminder. Fortunately I found it today and not tomorrow, huh!
So, I'm not sure I have anything relevent to write today. So, I'll post this. One day in April, I went into my room and found a paper on my bed. I picked it up and instantly knew it was from my six-year-old. This is what it said. (complete with picture)

Abinadi by Lylli Rager

To my mom and dad for all the teachings about the prophets and having faith in him. I love you very much.

Abinadi was one of Heavenly Father’s prophets. He told Abinadi to come to a king. The king’s name was King Noah. So Abinadi walked to King Noah’s kingdom all alone but with Heavenly Father’s help. When he got into King Noah’s kingdom, he told them to repent or else their enemies would destroy them.
But they said, “No we don’t want to repent. Go away. Now!”
So Abinadi walked home all alone again. A few months later he came to King Noah again.
They said, “We have not repented, young man.”
Abinadi said, “All right. Your enemies are going to destroy you.”
King Noah punished him for telling the truth. His punishment was for him to walk to prison all by himself. King Noah put him in prison for two weeks! After two weeks in prison, Abinadi walked halfway home until he started thinking about the message Heavenly Father asked him to tell King Noah. So he went back to his home. He taught him about Jesus and Heavenly Father. After that King Noah wanted to kill Abinadi. So it happened. He burned him down. And that was the end of Abinadi. The end.

Reading this was one of those awesome moments as a mother when I knew I was on the right track! May you all have a wonderful Sunday!

My Writing Story

By Nichole Giles

I got a phone message the other day. My neighbor’s sister heard I write books and wanted to ask me some questions. Though I haven’t talked to her yet, I definitely plan to call her back. It’s easy for me to remember the day when I consciously decided to start writing—for real.

I’ve always been a big reader, and had recently read several books in which a main or supporting character was a writer. (Yeah, goes back to us writing what we know.) Believe it or not, reading those books was the first time it occurred to me that people could actually write as a career. I mean, you know, there are authors, and they do it, but they’re like actors and supermodels. At the time, in my mind, I might as well go apply for a job at Nasa and ask to be an astronaut. But the idea was planted, and no matter how I avoided starting, it grew until I decided to write anyway. Not for fame and fortune, but because I needed to do it. Because it was something for me. I’d supported my husband in his career, my children in school and sports and babyhood, and this was something I wanted, and that I could do for me.

The catalyst, though, came one day when I was reading a parenting magazine and came across an advertisement for a writing class. It seemed too good to be true that I could take this college accredited course (I’d had zero college) through the mail—and they promised to help me produce at least one publishable article by the end. What I didn’t realize was that they didn’t guarantee my article would be accepted anywhere—just that it would be good. That class was the first interaction I ever had with another author, and it was absolutely liberating for me. I learned a lot.

As I communicated with my instructor, she encouraged me to find and attend some writing conferences. But I had no idea where to even look (this was before the days of Google and having information available at the click of a mouse—or at least that I knew of). Then one day, I was in the library checking out, and came across a flier for a writer’s conference by a group called the LDStorymakers—and it happened to be the very next weekend. I took the flier, and hung onto it for two or three days before I got brave and called the number to talk to a lady named Tristi Pinkston. She told me they had room and that I could pay at the door.

I had no idea what to expect when I went, but let me just tell you, I never, ever in my wildest dreams expected what I got. That weekend I learned a lot—but what’s more, I made some amazing, incredible friends. Also, I joined my very first writer’s group, where I’ve had more encouragement than I could ever had imagined. These people have taught me more than any college or class ever could, and I’ll forever be in their debt.

See, even as I was searching for that special thing for myself, I was fighting incredible amounts of guilt. I was the wife and mother—and it should be enough for any woman, right? Why should I need something for myself? But I did, and somehow, I knew that if I didn’t do this, I would lose myself entirely.

It’s been several years since I started this journey. This year, I’ll have two books published—something that I never could have dreamed was in my life path before I started it.

But the very most amazing thing is the comfort and support I’ve received since I started. Heavenly Father has shown me over and over again how important it is that I magnify my talent, and use it to better myself and those around me. I almost didn’t do it—but I am infinitely grateful that I did.

Just in case my story isn’t enough inspiration to help give you a boost, watch this video. I promise, there will be no more doubt and no more guilt—but you may shed a few tears.




See you in two weeks!