I’m a believer in change through intention and taking things one day at a time. I set goals … I don’t make resolutions because those can be broken, whereas a goal is something you continue to strive toward until you achieve it. But even with that, I couldn’t settle on ONE idea to strive toward in the new year. Until this year. And it’s a phrase I’ll focus on to get me through 2019.

Don’t Mess with the Ness

I received this cup for Christmas from my friend, mentor, and agent, Italia Gandolfo. And it is a perfect phrase for me to focus on in 2019. Maybe for life … although Be the Cat! is my lifetime mantra. Why is the phrase so perfect? Well, I happen to be working on a Middle Grade novel where one of the characters is fashioned after Nessie. But for me it goes beyond the character to the whole mythos of the Loch Ness Monster.

The Loch Ness Monster is one of the most debunked myths around, and yet the myth persists. So as someone who deals in worlds that exist only in my head, yet are so real to me, the persistence of the myth is comforting. Nessie stands the test of time — which is my goal for everything I write. And you don’t mess with Nessie … debunk him over here, and he’ll pop up over there thumbing his nose (snout?) at you. Although, I doubt he has any thumbs either … but you get the idea. No matter how many times it has been “proven” he doesn’t exist, he has continued to make appearance after appearance throughout history.

I had read an article based on busting the sentiment you can’t prove a negative and the article author used Nessie as part of their example of destroying the logic — which in my opinion he failed to do. It was an opinon piece and facts were absent. At any rate, his theory was that all we’d have to do to prove there is no Loch Ness Monster was to drain the Loch Ness. He does have a point.

IF the Loch Ness were drained AND no monster was found, we might conclude the monster doesn’t exist … but I’m not sure that would rate as iron-clad proof either. Because with as many years as there have been sightings of Nessie, there also have been periods of time where there were no sightings. Wouldn’t it be a logical presumption that the monster might reside in the Loch Ness for some of the time, but not all the time?

Now, I’m not arguing for the existence or not of a specific Loch Ness monster, but more that the idea is still possible that one might exist. Where there is the remotest possibility, then there is hope … and hope and faith together is a potent combination. The type of thing that can move mountains. But how does this tie to the year ahead?

2018 had some very good moments, but 2019 is going to be even better. During 2018, I made strides health-wise to be stronger and while I’m still a long way from where I want to be, I’m moving forward. Same with my writing. Little baby steps at a time is what is going to get me to where I want to be, and I have hope, no matter what the actual probability is, that I will achieve my goals, and I am moving forward in faith that I am on the right path and doing my life’s work. So don’t tell me probabilities or statistics — don’t try to sway me with facts.

Unless you’ve drained not only the Loch Ness and the rest of the Lochs and other bodies of water around the world, there is still a possibility, however improbable, Nessie exists. And if the possibility exists, then there is hope, and I will believe I will get stronger, healthier, and the path I’m on will take me to the destination I desire.

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On top of being the holiday season, I have the pleasure of finally working on my next book — a process that allows me to go delve into other worlds and spend time with my characters as they live through their stories. As I often say, I am the journalist simply writing the story my characters share. And the process gives me an immense amount of satisfaction. I recently watched The Man Who Invented Christmas and I absolutely loved how they handled Dickens’ writing process and the way his characters appeared and how he had conversations with them. Because it mirrors so much my own process. Now Dickens’ characters revealed facets of him more than mine do, but as with his, there is no controlling mine … and I no longer try. My characters appear and tell me what their story is. So in a way, the writing process for me is a miracle all on its own.

Which brings me to one of my characters in the Homeless Myths series I am currently working on. Quentin is a ten-year-old from the Solomon Islands and he has the sweetest spirit, even though he does lose it during the course of The Star Warriors and the Scret of the Red Key for a little while. Anyway, part of my process is to listen to whatever songs help my characters tell their story. And Quentin’s choice has been Christmas music (he told me this in July). I wish there was a way to pluck from my mind what happens when the Pentatonix version of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” comes up in the playlist. The first notes hit and Quentin starts dancing … and to me he is joy personified. He dances beside a campfire without thought for what anyone will think, and simply moves to the music in celebration of the moment. I’d love to be able to share his moment with you. Every time it reminds me to be see the joy in the daily moments in life.

I love watching him dance to the song, and what may seem odd, I don’t think it is a part of the story (but if there is even the remotest possibility, I’ll sneak it in). But even if not a moment from the story, I feel blessed to have such a happy feeling triggered by a song.

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When I read, I fully invest in the story. I enter the world of the characters and live the story with them. I did the same as a child whether reading it or listening to my mother read bedtime stories. I remember reaching the moment in Peter Pan when Tinkerbell has drunk the poison meant for Peter and was dying. I cried, not so much because I liked Tinkerbell because I didn’t, but because she was Peter’s friend and he would miss her, and even though she was mean to Wendy, I didn’t want her to die. So when Peter asked everyone who believed in fairies to clap their hands, I clapped as loud and hard as I could, because I knew if Tinkerbell heard she would be saved.

Fast forward a year or two. I would listen to Peter Pan on an album we had and would always clap at the important moment. Not quite so loud and hard as I did in the beginning, but I clapped because I believed. But then things subtly changed. I’d listen to the record or read the story and would think, “But not everyone is reading or listening to the story at the same time as me, so how do I know whether Tinkerbell is dying?” Would my lone claps save her? I clapped. Not because I believed it would save her, but because I didn’t know it wouldn’t. Notice, it wasn’t my belief in fairies that had waned, but my belief that clapping could save a fairy in a far distant land.

Before, I had believed without question. Now, logic played a part and altered my beliefs based on concepts I better understood, like not everyone reading the same story at the same time. And slowly, I stopped clapping … and felt sad because it was no longer in my power to help Tinkerbell live or die. I first believed I had the ability to sway Tinkerbell’s fate because Peter, the hero of the story, had told me so. Later I believed because I had proven it to be true … I had clapped and she lived. Later still, my belief slipped because I had greater knowledge and that knowledge cast doubts on the beliefs I had previously held.

I find the same to be true with all beliefs. We might first believe something because we hear it from an authority figure. Someone we like/revere/trust. As we grow/mature in our knowledge surrounding the belief, there might be some subtle shifts in what we believe and how strongly we believe it. Sometimes we reach a point where we discard a belief previously held. And sometimes the hole, where we once held the belief, is filled with sorrow or even anger.

Back to the kids in the Homeless Myths series. They believe many things adults would say were wrong. But they hold on to their beliefs because they need them. The beliefs help explain the world they live in. A world so chaotic it otherwise does not make sense. And who is to say they are wrong? Because we cannot prove them right doesn’t mean they are wrong.

Yes, I have given up the belief that clapping because I believe in fairies can save one from dying, but who is to say I don’t believe it fairies?

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(Image: Gerald Kuchling/Turtle Survival Alliance)

The Madushan Monster is actually a Chinese Giant Softshell Turtle and the death of Lonesome George, the sole Pinta Island Giant Tortoise, the Chinese Giant Softshell Turtle is the most endangered of all turtles. There are 3 known turtles left. Two in the Suzhou Zoo, that are 90 and 110-years-old, and a solitary (probably) male in a Vietnam reservoir. The zoo has made several attempts to have their turtles procreate, but due to some damage to the male, they have not been successful.

But then rumors from fishermen arose about the possibility of two turtles living in the Madushan reservoir, so hope remains, though faint, that the turtles can be found and saved from extinction. The search for the turtles has been likened to searching for the Loch Ness Monster (a link to another of my projects: Homeless Myths series aka The Star Warriors) And the hunt continues.

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