When a friend announces she’s pregnant, our responses tend to be predictable.
Excited squeals. Enthusiastic hugs. Congrats all around. And eager voices that ask, “When are you due?” and “How are you feeling?”
When Ryan and I found out we were pregnant with Brogan, we couldn’t wait to tell people. We couldn’t wait to share our news. We couldn’t wait to share our joy.
And the same was true when we made the decision to adopt.
Our joy was the same. Our anticipation was the same.
Yet the responses ran the gamut.
From absolutely thrilled to absolutely wary.
The wide variety had me wondering why.
Why are the reactions so varied?
I think a lot of it comes from not knowing. So many people just don’t know how to react, because adoption isn’t as common as pregnancy. And there’s this somewhat popular thought that people adopt because they can’t get pregnant. And being infertile isn’t a happy, celebratory thing. So we’re just not sure how to respond when someone we love tells us they’re adopting.
As I travel this journey, here’s what I’ve learned.
When it comes to our response, the why’s don’t really matter. Because by the time a family announces their adoption, they’re excited about it. Sure, there are other emotions too. Just like there are other emotions when a woman is pregnant. But the dominant emotions are usually positive.
So the best response, the one I think adoptive parents most appreciate, is when people react like they would to a pregnancy. With joy and excitement!
Because the family is going to have a child. A precious, beloved child. And that child deserves to be celebrated.
Of course there will be questions. And there will probably be concerns. But get excited first. Ask questions second.
Be like my aunt Peggy, who completely lit up, gave me a big hug, and asked when she could start telling people.
These responses are such a blessing. Thankfully, there have been plenty!
Let’s Talk: Why do you think the responses are so varied when it comes to adoption?
A few summers ago, I spent three months devouring every craft book known to man. You name it, I read it. I gobbled up the words of Donald Maass, James Scott Bell, and Dwight Swain like a malnourished turkey.
I have no doubt it made me a better writer.
I have no doubt that without those books and the ginormous learning curve that came with them, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
I highly recommend craft books to writers. In fact, I recommend several on my writing page.
With that said, can there be too much of a good thing?
I wrote my fourth novel shortly after my craft-book binge. When I finished, I was convinced it was the best of all my novels.
It had the necessary landmarks: the disturbance, the point of no return, the black moment, the epiphany, the climax. I put tension on every page. I had a hero and heroine with clear goals. Every scene had conflict. Every scene ended in disaster. Every scene raised the stakes.
This story was structurally impeccable.
I loved it.
Until a couple months ago.
When I read it again. And as I read, my confidence curdled.
It felt so formulaic. So predictable. So….not fresh. With each scene playing out like the one before it.
Character has goal. Character goes after goal. Something challenges goal. Scene ends in disaster. Stakes escalate. Character comes up with new goal. Character goes after new goal. Something challenges new goal. Scene ends in disaster. Stakes escalate….
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Ad nauseum.
So what’s the point of this post?
It’s not to discourage writers from telling stories via scenes. Because that’s how stories should be told. It’s not to suggest that scenes shouldn’t have conflict, because they should. It’s not to say that stakes shouldn’t escalate, because they need to.
I’m simply saying that sometimes, we can get so caught up in doing everything by the book, that our stories turn sterile.
The longer I write, the more I realize that the must-have’s are simple:
A clear beginning and end.
Engaging characters.
Forward momentum.
Some sort of conflict.
And a theme that matters.
The longer I write, the more I realize it’s okay to step outside the guidelines. It’s okay to experiment. It’s okay to take literary risks. Mastering craft and story structure just helps us do it more effectively.
I think some of the best literary works, the stories that stick with me the longest, are those that step outside of the formula. The Help. Room. Little Bee. Peace Like a River. The Language of Flowers.
None of these are by the book. Yet all of them touched me deeply.
Let’s Talk: What are some of your all-time favorite books? What made them so memorable? Do you think its possible to overdose on craft books? Would you add a must-have to my list?
Fellow blogger, Ruth Douthitt, interviews me on her blog today. She asks some fun questions, so come on over and say hi!
When you don’t know what to post, a game of Would You Rather is a good fall back.