Confessions of a Flibbertigibbet by Lorrie Orr

 

Explore

This month’s prompt is taken from July 2014, written by Sandi Somers, and asks you to explore, to travel in new directions. Perhaps you tend to write in only one particular genre, or in one particular voice and style for a particular audience.

This month, become an explorer by selecting a genre or a voice/style that you haven’t worked in before (or rarely). Write for a different audience. Do a little research. Then tell us how you saw with new eyes, what you discovered, and if you would consider further writing in this genre.

I married a curious and adventurous explorer, and I've embraced much of his spirit, albeit with more trepidation. We've lived in and visited places that have my heart pounding and my hands sweaty. Our most recent adventure took us along two infamous roads in British Columbia. The portion of Highway 20 (Heckman Pass) known as The Hill descends from 5000 feet to sea level in 10 kilometres. There are no guardrails, up to 18% gradients, hairpin curves, and a very steep drop off the edge. "My life is in your hands," I kept reminding God as we crawled down the road in four-wheel drive-low range. The views at the end of the road, in Bella Coola, were well worth the chewed-off nails.

Exploring can be uncomfortable in any area of life, writing included. And it can be a grand adventure, full of unexpected twists and turns. Jane Austen's words "Indulge your imagination in every possible flight," taken with the idea of writing in different genres, fit my writing persona well. When asked what I write, I have to think for a moment to come up with a concise answer that doesn't make me sound like a flibbertigibbet. My writing life runs the gambit of genres from poetry to fiction to devotionals to nature writing. And I'm currently writing (nearly finished) a memoir. Whew! A children's story or two lurk at the back of my mind, as well.

Writing is a way of exploring my own heart and mind, and a way to communicate with others. Lists keep me organized. Pouring out my heart in written prayer connects me to Jesus. Journaling crystallizes my thinking. I hope that devotionals encourage those who read them. Louise Penny says that she began to write mysteries because that's what she enjoyed reading. That inspired me to begin a mystery of my own, now set aside until the memoir is finished. In my limited experience with fiction, I pray that spiritual truths will be made clear even if the name of Jesus is never written. Nature writing is inspired by the wonders of creation, from the tiniest ladybug to the grandeur of stars moving across a night sky.

I have always been one to try new things; hobbies, recipes, books, and crafts. My interests are varied. Several years ago I read Refuse to Choose: A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything You Love by Barbara Sher. She groups people into two loose categories, Scanners and Deep Divers. How free I felt after reading that Scanners like me need to do different things, often have multiple careers, and can be involved in parallel fulfilling activities. This is the way God made me. I use my character trait without guilt, but I am careful to make the effort to focus on finishing projects rather than just having many unfinished pieces. Sticking with a project until it's done is important.

As Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God," and although Hopkins was speaking about Nature, God's grandeur includes human minds, created in God's image. I pray that my writing will, in a tiny way, reflect the glory of He who gave me the desire to write.

I will go anywhere, provided it be forward.

David Livingstone

Lorrie Orr writes from her home on Vancouver Island,

from where she accompanies her husband on adventures near and far,

always taking a notebook and a camera along to

record her thoughts and impressions.

It's Up To You by Vickie Stam

           

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good." Romans 12:21

A thin silver moon casts a shimmer of light across the midnight sky. You're unaware of the tiny moon's existence. The den you burrow in your blankets each night would make anyone believe you possess the skill of a wild animal even though your demeanor proves different. You feel cozy and warm but not entirely protected from the wilderness that looms not far from your lair.

Six months of living in your apartment in the city's shadiest part of town makes you wish you could sleep with one eye open. The break and enters and purse snatchings dictate the monthly rent you pay molding a price that fits your budget. You keep to yourself. Don't make any waves.

Tonight, just like any other night, a noise outside your window wakes you from your not so deep sleep. You lunge forward. Your heart throbs. You call out in a loud voice, "Who's there?" But no one answers. Eyes wide, you search the room and breath a sigh of relief when you realize there's no one standing between you and the light you purposely leave on each night.

You shutter at the sound of breaking glass outside your window. A familiar scene plays out in your mind. You cast your gaze on an old pine chest that once held a family heirloom. The words, "Nothing ever changes around here," ignite a fire inside you, yet you don't call the police. Instead, you lay back against your pillow, close your eyes and wait for the silence to return. How dare you?

The next morning, cops are milling the street questioning anyone who might have witnessed what happened to your neighbour's car. Shards of glass line the sidewalk in front of your building. You tip toe around the crime scene hoping to go unnoticed.

With your nose to the ground you take up your usual quick pace and head west in an attempt to veto any questions the cops might hurl your way. The smell of evil burns your gut. You taste its wicked bile.

"Not so fast!" A tall man in a blue uniform jumps in your way. You swallow hard resisting the temptation to throw up your own shame. The man means business. You see it in his eyes. You know what he needs. A full description; something you can give him. It's time for you to turn this no-good neighbourhood into a good one. It's up to you to change things.

You clear your throat and run your fingers through your short brown hair. Just when you're about to ante up, the man's complexion turns a deep shade of red.

"Someone around here knows something!"

Caught between the battle of good and evil you know what you must do. You must confess. That someone is....you.

This month's theme "New Explorations" challenged me to write in a different voice/style so I chose to write something fiction in the 2nd person narrative using you, your and you're. I prefer to write non-fiction so this was a daring choice for me and my first attempt at such a narrative, one that I just might try again.