Cindy Lynn Jacobs Writer

I wanted to post all of these pictures individually, but being that most are taken from AP photographers, I didn't want to infringe on any copyright issues. These are very emotional photos of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. For example, a family being rescued from the roof of their SUV. A makeshift tomb for a body that had been decomposing on the sidewalk for days. Rooftop rescues. A woman grieving for her husband who had lung cancer and ran out of oxygen while waiting to be rescued. A parking lot flooded and full of buses that could've been used to rescue people. Heartbreaking.

I still can't fathom that people suffered like this in our country with all the resources we had available. Seems so many suffered and died senselessly. 

Here's the link:

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/08/remembering_katrina_five_years.html

While doing more research for my book, I unearthed an interesting bit of information about fire ants. During the flood that followed Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, golf-sized balls of shimmery copper could be seen floating on the surface of the water. These balls were fire ants. By using air bubbles and interlocking their bodies, they are able to create a "raft" that has the ability able to stay afloat for months.

This is just one of the interesting pieces of information I've run across that probably won't be used in the book, but I found it fascinating. Click this link to see an actual fire ant colony floating:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzwyxObPx5Y

While journaling has been a huge part of my life throughout the years, it has not always been an experience I considered joyful. In the past, you wouldn't normally see me skipping to my room to pull out my little book, eager to fill up its pages with exciting snippits from my ever-so-colorful life. No, indeed, it was a chore. I viewed this tedious task more as an interruption. A side note from reality. Just a necessity to record events and supposedly grow me as a writer.

I have about 15 journals total that I've written in. And in the past, I was never consistent. Never really sure what to jot down in these crazy little books. It was easy to write if I was emotionally bent or deranged ... happy, sad, angry or mentally instable. But I still struggled with journaling.

The last several years, I journaled very little. I knew I wanted to record my life and thoughts for generations to come. I know I would've LOVED to have journals from my ancestors to mull over. Plus, as I mentioned, journaling is an important exercise and resource to me as a writer. 

Finally I was thrown into a life situation that sent me reeling into a hole of doubt and despair. I questioned God. I questioned my purpose in life. I spiraled downward and lost my vision for who I was and who I wanted to become. As I tried to sort out my thoughts and cried out go God, I discovered journaling helped me keep track of my thoughts, my blessings, my struggles and so forth. It kept me sane ... although some of the entries may not sound so sane. (That was a warning to my descendants who will, more than likely, be reading those wondrous thoughts.)

So, I changed my "routine." It's like exercising. If you grow bored with your routine or it becomes ineffective, change it. Instead of simply recording life's events and periodic ups and downs, I began using my journal as a record of conversations between God and I. Some quite serious. Some quite humorous. Some will make others question my sanity. These were very deep conversations at times. And still are. 

My hope is that others who end up reading them (after I am gone, I hope, because I would die of embarrassment otherwise) will see God's power in my life. That I am human and, even though I sometimes grow angry or lose hope in God, He still loves me and ministers to me. They will also probably note that I am one of God's greatest whiners. Not proud of that, but it seems to be a thread that carries through my journal more often than I care to admit. And regardless of that, God still loves me. 

Ever night I get a bottle of water, turn on my fan (for noise cuz I can't sleep without it purring in the background) and the light on my lamp stand, crawl under my soft, warm blankies and open up my journal. Sometimes I even go to bed a bit early so I can spend a little more time with God. I love to question God, and then spend time seeking and listening to what He has to say. 

Because of this, at age 48, I am a more serious journaler. My previous journals are random thoughts and events. Anyone who tries to organize them is going to discover that sometimes I didn't follow correct journaling protocol. I would often begin in one journal, then misplace it. So I would start another, then return to the previous once I found it again. I apologize to anyone future descendant who takes on the responsibility of trying to organize these in chronological order. Purchase a bottle of Ibuprofen in advance. 

I am more disciplined an much more organized in my journaling now. Writers need to Journal. Writers need to read. I am thankful to finally be back to journaling as it encourages my creativity, generates fodder for story ideas AND draws me closer to a God who loves me unconditionally.

This historical romance brings history to life beautifully through the author's main character Rose. The story relives the 1886 Charleston earthquake which is almost symbolic of Rose's life. Her small world is shaken and torn on more than one occasion. First by becoming a widow. Secondly, by being scorned by society for making a decision of the heart. Then again when her heart is broken. But she seeks strength and wisdom. She continues to hope for happiness despite her many trials. "Ireland Rose" reveals how God always knows the outcome. Even when we doubt and struggle and hurt, God has a plan.  

Read more ...

 
My mid-grade-reader-in-progress provides me with many challenges. But the most difficult challenge for me is deciding and sticking to the Point of View (POV) that is most appropriate for my book.

“Shelter of Last Resort” is a story about Jermaine, a 13-year-old black boy living in the poverty-stricken Ninth Ward of New Orleans, who endures Hurricane Katrina. And I am writing this manuscript in first person.
 
Think about that a moment. Here I am, a middle-aged white woman from Northern Indiana. Imagine my pain and anxiety while trying to squeeze thoughts, words and experiences into my main character so that they come out sounding like a black boy living in a gang-infested neighborhood.

You have heard of writer’s block. This is similar. But it’s more like writer’s constipation.

I consider flushing the entire project down the commode.  

With the prodding of a few of my writing friends, however, I decide the best option is to chew on the foundational fibers of character development. I discovered there are techniques that actually help move things along. Here are the treatments I use to bring Jermaine to life.

• Print off a picture that looks like my main character as I picture him. I find a random picture online.
• Write up a character profile with information about family, friends, school, habits, eye and hair color, likes, dislikes, enemies, etc.
• Watch movies featuring people and topics that accurately represent my character’s ethnic background and setting. (www.youtube.com is also a good resource for this.)
• Listen to music enjoyed by people of the same age and ethnic group as my character.
• Read books with similar characters from similar time periods.
• Write a character journal. I put my main character in different situations and he talks about those situations in first person. Few, if any, of these “situations” make it into my book. They are just exercises in getting to know my character better.
• Visit your main character. OK. You really can’t spend time with your made-up character. Not without being committed, anyhow. But I did spend time in New Orleans on a missions trip and one of our projects was to minister to the kids on the playground. Talking to them and listening to them talk to each other was invaluable.

When I first started, the story was painful to write. I strained to produce a POV that sounded even remotely close to my character’s voice. These treatments helped unclog my mind. Jermaine’s voice now flows through my brain and into my story. Sometimes, as I work through the book, Jermaine’s “voice” slips out into my everyday conversations with people around me. His slang shapes my sentences. His accent becomes my accent.

That’s how I know I am finally mastering my character’s voice.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must go plunge into my writing.  

 

Shelter of Last Resort originally transpired from my Young Adult Novel Class, taught through Bethel College by Professor Kim Peterson. In addition to writing and editing the first 20,000 words or so of the book, I had to create character profiles and get into my character's head by creating a journal. The journal was an account of bits of Jermaine's life that may or may not be used in the book. It just helped me get a better feel for who Jermaine was and what his life was like so I could apply those characteristics and experiences into the book, usually indirectly. Here is an example of some of those entries.
 

Week 1

Entry 1

   So much death. Jermaine watched the events unfold on the TV. as if they were taking place around him. The continuous popping of the rifles as both sides sought to slaughter each other. He felt as if the bullets were whipping pas this own ears. Men were dying. When a whizzing bullet blew through the brushes and planted itself into real flesh and blood, the noise sickened him
   Yet it was just a movie
   The courage of the American soldiers seemed foreign to Jermaine.In the heat of battle, where bullets burned and bombs dismembers, soldier shelped their brothers in need. They protected each other. They tended to the wounded. They stayed focused on their mission. 
   Jermaine wondered if he could ever be that brave.
  
Entry 2

    “Get that dog outta here!” Jermaine’s mama shouted from the kitchen.
   “What’s he doin’ now?” Jermaine’s eyes rolled and he made his way across the livingroom. Suddenly a brown and white blur of fur darted past him and up the stairs.
   “Finchley!” he shouted after the dog.
   “That’s it! One more time he steals food off the table, he’s out on his butt!”
   “Mama, he’s just a pup.”
   “I don’t care if he’s a pup or a full-blown dog. He needs to learn him some manner.”

Entry 3
  
   The alarm clock set sounded it weak wake-up call reminding Jermaine that the batteries were low. He tapped the back of the clock and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and slipped out from the covers, making his way down the hall. His mama and little brother Kirk still slept.
   After reaching the small kitchen, Jermaine poured cereal into two bowls and sat them at the table. He went to Kyle's bedroom.
   “Breakfast,” He mumbled as he nudged his brother awake. 
    Kyle always woke up easily. He popped out of bed and hustled to the kitchen for breakfast with Jermaine following close behind. Jermaine divided what was left of the milk into the two bowls. Kyle grinned a sleepy grin at his brother and grabbed his spoon.


 

 

 I finally decided first person was the best Point of View (POV) for my mid-grade book. A workshop I attended at the February Write2Ignite! Conference helped clarify this. First person is used when the conflict is within the character. Third person is when the conflict is surrounding the character. With my story taking place during Hurricane Katrina,  there is definite conflict surrounding my main character, Jermaine. However, my goal is to help my readers find strength within themselves by experiencing Jermaine's inner strength. So I am going first person. And since I already wrote 22,563 words in third person, this means a massive rewrite.

One of the biggest challenges I am facing is taking a 13-yr-old black boy from the Lower Ninth in New Orleans' words and bringing the story to life with description and showing, instead of just telling.

I submitted this line of my story to my writers accountabilty group. Following is the feedback I received.

"Jermaine felt a chill, despite the 99-degree weather." (Boooooring third-person sentence.)

Alternate, first-person options.

1. "A chill crawled across me like when Nana talked about the undead in the Mid-City cemeteries. Never know it was stinkin' 90 degrees."
2. "Man, it was a stinkin' 90 degrees, but I got a chill up my back like a ghost done went right through me."
3. "My sweat froze all of a sudden. Never know it was a stinkin' 90 degrees out."

Open to more thoughts, suggestions, or your opinion on either of these three rewrites.

 

 

As writers we weave our lives into our work. Whether it's subtle or blatant, it’s there.

My work-in-progress, Shelter of Last Resort takes place during Hurricane Katrina. I chose this topic because of the devastation I experienced while working missions in New Orleans after the hurricane. Aside from gutting houses, I also spent time in the evenings playing with the kids at one of the parks. They were a rough bunch. They used language I thought shocking for adults, let alone young kids. They threw rocks at each other. Spit at each other. Made crude remarks and threatened one another. A few in our small missions group, sadly, were so turned off by this disrespect and “wildness” that they did not return the rest of the week to spend time or minister to these precious children.

But these kids craved love. I remember two young girls sitting on a bench braiding each other’s hair, smiling and talking. Another young boy clung to me and was very focused on drawing pictures—one of which I was blessed to be gifted with. A couple of little girls shared my lap while big Bobby Morton (former Notre Dame offensive lineman) presented a Bible story, complete with his unique dramatization. Then the kids flocked around the picnic table for face painting and I watched as they took their paint brushes and completely covered even inch of my son’s head and face in bright colors. He sat there patiently with a big grin on his face, enjoying every minute. And I vividly remember never being without a little hand to hold.

This took place three years after the hurricane. These kids were survivors. And though their little minds couldn’t possibly comprehend everything they had endured, they each had their own survival story. I wondered as I sat there with them how many lost someone they loved. How many lost their homes, their possessions and their beloved pet? How many evacuated and how many stayed behind? What horrors had they seen or experienced?

My heart broke just trying to take it all in.

Jermaine and Cornell, the two main characters in my book, are the embodiment of these children. In addition, I’ve taken my own experience with “survival” and applied it to their situation. I want kids to gain strength from reading Jermaine’s story and feel they can overcome whatever pains and obstacles life puts in their path.

I am in the final stages of writing the book, but it will still have to undergo several editing phases and editor evaluations. I am beginning work on the book proposal, which in itself will easily exceed 25 pages.

I draw my inspiration from a lot of venues. I do a lot of research (articles, videos and books) and read stories from Katrina survivors. One song that still remains a strong inspiration for me is Rascal Flatts’ “Stand.” But my most powerful source of inspiration are those rough, but amazingly strong kids that I had the privilege of spending time playing with in the park during those few hot and sticky evenings in New Orleans.

 

My son Nathan and Bobby Morton (former youth pastor and Notre Dame offensive lineman) tear apart a fireplace in a hurricane-damaged home in New Orleans.