It has been a lot of fun (and educational!) to have John Ferling featured on the OUPblog this week. Be sure to check out his original essay and his Q and A. Below we have excerpted the beginning of the introduction to Almost a Miracle: The American Victory in the War of Independence, entitled “My Country, My Honor, My Life”: Bravery and Death in War.
October 18, 1776. Captain William Glanville Evelyn, resplendent in his British uniform, stood tall in a coal-black landing barge, the first orange rays of daylight streaming over him and glistening on the calm waters of Pelham Bay above Manhattan. Men were all about him, in his craft and in countless others. They were soldiers, part of an operation that had begun hours earlier during the cold, dark night. (more…)
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Yesterday John Ferling, author of Almost A Miracle wrote a piece for the OUPblog about the turning of the tide in the Revolutionary War. Today he has kindly agreed to answer some questions about his work. To learn more about Ferling keep reading and be sure to check back tomorrow for an excerpt from his new book!
OUP: Compared to the Civil War and America’s twentieth century wars, the War of Independence appears to have been pretty tame. Do you agree? (more…)
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John Ferling, author of Almost a Miracle: The American Victory in the War of Independence is the author of nine books and numerous articles on the American Revolution and early American wars. In the article below Ferling looks at the turning point in the Revolutionary War. Be sure to check back tomorrow for a Q and A with Ferling. (more…)
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I find myself always searching for ways to integrate all the many parts of my life: my family--those dear grandkids whom I never get enough time with; my writing, ditto, my church sharing group, those ordinary business-y things like grocery shopping and paying the bills, a time for solitude, journaling and prayer. Not necessarily in that order--but all these things and more compete for my energy and attention.
This week I've found an answer to my dilemma, a new way of looking at my life and integrating all the parts of it. I'm reading a wonderful book, immersed in the sacred, by Kathy Coffey, In it she talks about what she calls the sacraments of the world--signs and symbols of daily life that point beyond themselves, to something mysterious and holy. In her words, "This world shouts of the sacred."
And I realize this is what I yearn for in every part of my life, from my writing to my daily small encounters with others, to find meaning, to find the sacredness in all of this. So giving a cup of juice to my two-year-old granddaughter can be a sacred communion. Writing a fiction story about the Flower of Forgiveness connects me with all others who have struggled to let go of a hurt, big or small. Smoothing on my favorite Rose Lotion in the morning is a symbol of the sacred annointing I want to give each person I meet, a tenderness to carry through their day.
I'm excited! As I read more about sacrament and symbol, I'm more and more finding a connecting meaning between each small action of my day, a richness that makes my throat ache.
And now, as I sign off to head out and do some gardening, I look forward even to the weeding of the dandelions--another sacramental sign. I'll be pondering all those things I want to weed out of my life. I'll remember this the next time I'm revising a story--weeding out the dandelions, making room for those azaleas and spring pansies instead.
What a wonderfully busy Easter weekend! I had such a great time with my family here. My whole family came (mom, dad, sister, two brothers, and a soon-to-be sister-in-love--speaking of which--if you know where I can find a cute light pink dress to wear to the wedding, I'm all ears.) We also had an easter party at my parents-in-love's house. And thanks to Vivian at hipwritermama, my daughter was able to participate in the sugar cookie decorating. THANKS so much to everyone who sent suggestions for finding eggless sugar cookies!
I also made fresh bread and rolls with my new Bosch mixer. Mmm. So delicious! I think I'm going to make some cinnamon bread today for some people in my neighborhood. Or orange rolls. Or pizza dough. Am I making you salivate?
My talented sister sang "In Humility, our Savior" at my church yesterday. It was so beautiful. I accompanied her on the piano. I love the piano.
On the other hand, I do not like the organ. But I had my own little Easter miracle yesterday. I am the back-up organist for our congregation. And yesterday I was asked to play. I was out of my mind stressed about it because I just did not have enough time to practice. I prayed that the music would invite the Holy Spirit, and that I would be essentially invisible as the organist. I figure that the best compliment an organist can get is that nobody notices them. People only notice the organist when they make mistakes.
Well, I made a huge mistake on the most important song. I hit a couple wrong notes and then, when I couldn't get back on track, I stopped playing for about half a measure. But here's the miracle...NOBODY NOTICED. It's so weird. I asked a million people (give or take), but nobody heard it. I believe my prayer was answered...although not in the way I expected. I hoped I would just miraculously play perfectly.
Anyway, this post isn't remotely writerly or even readerly. I thought about making my organ experience or bread/roll-making into some sort of analogy for writing, but I'm going to leave the analogy-making up to you. My house is an absolute psyclone from my whirlwind weekend.
But what a wonderful whirlwind it was!
Love lots,
Emily
