Category Archives: real life

my creative process

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This is what mine looks like:

1) Freewriting.  With or without prompts, I just write like a maniac and try not to censor myself at all (which often results in some of my best ideas).  While freewriting, I am shocked to meet characters whom I never intended to write about, whom I am meeting for the very first time as I type.  I am surprised by what my characters say and do and the events that occur while I am writing without censorship.  Granted, this draft usually makes little or no sense, can stop in the middle of a sentence, and will include scenes that will never make it past this stage.  Themajority of this draft will disappear by the end.

2) Organizing.  I look back through the junk I’ve generated and try to make some sort of sense out of it.

3) Editing.  Now back through it again to make it look and sound better.  Cut excess words, add better imagery.  I am terrible at description and don’t include it very naturally, so at this stage, I’ll try to graft some into the paragraphs so that others can see what I’m seeing.

4) Feedback.  A MUST.  At this stage, my writing group and some select other friends will need to look it over, or I can’t go any further with the piece.  I NEED constructive criticism and outside eyes to tell me what works and what doesn’t.  I need people to tell me “I don’t think Joey would say such-and-such” or “if Stacy finds out about that secret that early, you won’t have any tension in your story.”

5) Repeat steps 1-4.  For a long time, maybe years.  And I pray about what I’m writing too.  I ask God to move me in the right direction with my stories.

What does your creative process look like?

Currently reading …

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Currently reading …
The Narnian by Alan Jacobs … a biography of C.S. Lewis, based primarily around his imagination, not his life events. I only just started it yesterday, but I’m enjoying it so far!
The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger … pretty brilliant.  I keep wondering– if I would have written this book– if I’d have planned everything out beforehand or just written myself into and out of messes.
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis … I honestly have only been “away” from Narnia for like 3-4 weeks, and I was craving it again.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith … John Green gave this book his thumbs up, so I decided to just buy it instead of waiting for the library to have an available copy, yet it hasn’t completely sucked me in yet.

On my radar …
Mister Death’s Blue-Eyed Girls by Mary Downing Hahn (I didn’t know she was still writing!)
Broken by Laura Hillenbrand (apparently this one is life-changing)
World War Z (started it awhile ago and then got distracted by some other stuff)
plus I have been missing my favorite Hogwarts trio, so I might need to dive back into Deathly Hallows.

Just finished …
Ender’s Game by Scott Orson Card … fascinating!  Really loved this, even though I was skeptical at first that I would.  Now I need to decide just how big of a sci-fi nerd I want to become: there is a host of other Ender-related books, and I don’t know if I should just let Ender’s Game stand alone for me or if I should dive in.  Thoughts?
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak … as always, it was brilliant.  Cannot get over this book.
Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger, which inspired me to read Time Traveler’s Wife

What’s on your reading plate right now?  Any suggestions?

my friend erica

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Today I’d like you to meet my best friend Erica.  I call her “Eir.”

In 2001, I met Eir at summer camp when she was a camper and I was a counselor.  A couple months later, we ended up talking at another retreat, and this time I got her email address.  What followed was this incredibly fun adventure of getting to know this bright, young high school student whose faith defined her identity.

It’s hard to say when I realized she had transitioned from being one of my campers to being my best friend.  There are so many memories packed into the last eleven years that it’s difficult to choose a moment of definitive realization.

Here are some of my favorite memories with Eir:
* our picnic with dear friends at the Plummer House gardens
* taking her to a college Bible study while she was still in high school
* crying and praying together that night at Moody Bible Institute
* ringing in so many new years together, but especially these last two
* creating and playing our own camp version of Apples to Apples
* developing a DYNAMIC long-distance friendship while she lived in Chicago and the Czech Republic
* years and years of camp memories, including when Eir threatened to kiss Sir William and all the time spent on the dock
* White Ribbon Day … huh?

Erica has such a beautiful heart for at-risk youth and for families in hard situations and for missions and for the gospel.  She is lovely, and she does things that matter.  At the same time, we love to spread a blanket over our knees and watch ridiculous shows on cable; we love looking at pictures of babies online; our jokes never seem to get old.  We pray for each other andwitheach other.  Just like Jonathan and David, our hearts are knit together.

my roommate Desiree

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I’ve been blessed to live with Desiree for five years this May.  She is incredible: a woman of deep faith in Christ who sincerely loves people.  As an obsessive-compulsive, I have been incredibly grateful to have a roommate like Des, who reminds me of the truth and who lifts me up in prayer.

Des is a math teacher, and it is so refreshing to see someone who is enraptured with mathematics and who intensely cares about the kids she teaches.  Des is a thinker, a student of the Word, but she can also be crazy-silly.  When, like me, you have lived with someone you adore for this long, you begin to think so similarly that you have inside jokes of which you can barely remember the origin.  I love that.

Here is how Desiree and I ended up living together.  I love telling this story.

Des was the leader of a club at the college where I recruit, and I was the advisor, so we ended up meeting from time to time to talk about “club business”– which usually meant a couple minutes on club business and then catching up the rest of the time.  After I’d known her for a couple years, my living situation was about to change, and I was intrigued when I realized that I wanted her to be my roommate.

I didn’t know what she would think of this idea.  After all, she was a college student, and I was on staff at her school.  I decided I’d sneakily broach the subject during our next coffee date.

Des walked into Caribou that night, and the first thing she said was, “I’m living with you next year.”

Yes, you read that right.

“Funny you should say that …” I said.  The rest is history.

Thank you, God.

Photo credit: Ryan Murray

cared for

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My past roommate Becky said she has been reading my blog and is so happy to see that I’m doing better.  She told me, “When we were living together, you were really deep into it.”  It’s true.  The years that I lived with Becky and Tricia (or rather, Biz and Trix) were some of the darkest, most OCD-saturated years of my life.  I am so grateful that God gave those two to me to take care of me in those days when I could not take care of myself.

“Have you had supper?” Tricia would ask.

“Not yet,” I’d respond.  Then I’d begin to consider the whole enterprise.  It exhausted me to ponder opening a loaf of bread, untwisting the twist-tie, pulling out two slices of bread, locating a clean knife, finding a jar of peanut butter, and—it collapsed me—spreading the peanut butter over the bread.  That didn’t even take into account finding a paper plate to put the sandwich on, or cleaning up afterward.  I’d go sit on the couch, my heart racing, a heaviness in my chest.

“Want to make mac and cheese?” she’d ask, browsing through the cupboard’s offerings.

I breathed in and then exhaled deeply.  Macaroni and cheese was so involved—butter and a saucepan and boiling water, milk and cheese mix, and so many dirty dishes.

“Jav?”  (Their nickname for me.)

“I don’t think I’m gonna eat anything,” I peeped from the living room, hoping she would let it go.  I closed my eyes and willed myself to relax.  You’re not going to make anything, I told myself.  You don’t have to do anything.  Just rest. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, poking her head around the corner and seeing me collapsed on the couch.

“Yes,” I said in a voice that screamed, “Not at all.”

She walked over to where I was lying and stood, towering above me, with a frown on her face.  “What is wrong now?”

“Supper overwhelms me,” I said quietly.  “I’ll be okay.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Relax.  I’ll take care of supper.”

“I’ll be okay,” I repeated.

“You have to eat!”

This became something of a routine.  When Tricia and Becky had evening plans, I either didn’t eat, or I tore open a granola bar—something simple.  I lost about ten or fifteen pounds at this time, but I hardly noticed.  But it was an arduous time; I was very dependent and needy, but I was very well cared for.

Thank you, Bizzers and Trix.

me, bec, tricia

brokenness

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After we watched the Blue Like Jazz screening, my former writing professor Judy and I went to the St. Clair Broiler for some late-night breakfast and conversation.

A few things you should know about Judy: she is brilliant, a gifted writer and teacher, and she loves Jesus very much and connects with him in lovely and unique ways like Taizé and lectio divina.

One thing she said to me over pancakes and French toast was this: “Some people hold their brokenness at arm’s length.  Some people embrace their brokenness.  And some people celebrate their brokenness.”

That’s what I want to do– celebrate my brokenness.  I am not ashamed of my obsessive-compulsive disorder.  The Lord’s power is perfected in my weakness.  His grace is sufficient.

“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Corinthians 12:9b).

How about you?

the very worst thing

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There were days when my OCD would tear my worldview out from under me.  Things that I had thought were solid things to stand on (GOD-IS-GOOD, I-AM-SAVED, IT’S-OK-TO-MEET-NEW-PEOPLE, HUMANS-ARE-REALLY-HUMANS, etc.) turned into vapor beneath me, and there I was, seeming to free-fall forever.

A real, only slightly altered conversation with a former roommate:
Fanny Fakename (frustrated): I can’t believe this!  I can’t believe this!
Jackie: What?  What happened?
Fanny (in anguish): I just found out that my tennis retreat is the same weekend as this political rally I wanted to attend!
Jackie: Oh.
Fanny: The same weekend!  This is terrible.  What am I going to do?  This is the worst thing that has EVER happened to me!
Jackie: thinking harm thoughts even though that is not her regular type of OCD 😉

One thing that OCD has engendered in me is perspective.

Right now, I am trying to lose weight, and it’s been a tough battle for me, but tonight I was praying aloud in my shower and what slipped out of my mouth was, “Thank you, God, that this is not an OCD thing.  I can handle this.  OCD was the very worst thing.”

Perspective.  Love it.

What is the very worst thing that has ever happened to you?  What it OCD-related?  Have you been envious of friends and family when their very worst thing seemed tamer than yours?

scrupulosity and the unforgivable sin

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Scrupulosity: OCD centered around religious themes.

The story of my life.

The obsession: for many years, my head would repeat blasphemous things over and over, sometimes triggered by certain sounds and sometimes by non-specific phrases about hell, demons, souls, the devil.

The compulsion: I began to repeat one particular phrase– “Father God, I love You”– over and over in my head as a way to stem the other thoughts.

It became very difficult to handle everything that was going on: these blasphemous thoughts would crowd me– I mean, really crowd me (the image I have is of these thoughts bumping and grinding on me like dirty brutes at a dance club), and I’d be warding them off by repeating this repetitive prayer over and over (and over and over and over).  And on the outside, it didn’t look like anything.

Those who were closest to me (dear friends and roommates and family members) knew that I was going through hell, but they couldn’t see the battle that was taking place.  They only knew of it when I told them (or on nights when I broke down sobbing in fear of eternal damnation … thanks for speaking truth to me those nights, Desiree!).

It is hard to describe exactly what it feels like to feel as though you’re wearing a sentence of hell on your shoulders.  Here’s a shot:

Condemnation (or supposed condemnation) is like being in a tank of water with only inches of air at the top.  You have to lean your head back to put your lips to the air, and the whole while you must keep treading water.  There is no opportunity for distraction.  It consumes every moment of your life.

Anyone reading this understand me?

If so, please read this sermon.  I think it might help.  My heart aches for you, but there is hope.  Lovers of Jesus Christ don’tbelong in hell.  Let’s talk.

Did God give me OCD?

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Q: But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, “Why have you made me like this?” — Romans 9:20 (ESV)

A: Thanks for asking.  I’m Jackie Sommers.  I guess you could call me a sass-pot. 

Why do we get OCD?  Is it a punishment from God?  Is it a result of the fall of mankind?  Is it completely arbitrary?  Bad karma?  Simply genetic?  Strep throat gone awry?

I believe that my OCD is indeed from God, given to me for three reasons:
1) To drive me to Him.  The times that I have known most intensely my desperate need for Christ have been some of my most OCD-riddled seasons of life.  When I am given something impossible to handle, then I have to turn to Someone bigger who can take it from my weak hands.
2) So that I would use it to glorify Him.  I wrote a novel about an obsessive-compulsive, a book written for the Lord, to use my talents to honor Him.  I think it’s a beautiful picture of redemption to see the way God allowed me to turn my history of OCD into a creative and beautiful result.
2) To help others who are suffering.  Simply put, I would not be able to sympathize with other sufferers in the same way had I not crawled out of those same trenches.  God was with me every step of the way, and I know that it was He who guided me to cognitive-behavioral therapy, of which I am now a strong advocate.

So, what do you think?  Is OCD from God– or is it something else?  Would love to hear your thoughts!

Who is Jackie Lea Sommers?

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I know my dear friend Ashley loves my blog– but she also knows and loves ME.  She suggested the other day that I let my blog followers in on who I am.  Sounds like a marvelous idea.

The details: Jackie Lea Sommers, 30 years old, as single as a girl can be.  I live in a suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota, and I grew up in a small town of ~700 people.  I’m the recruitment manager at Northwestern College, the most wonderful Christian university in the world.  I’m also a proud alumna.  My degree is in English-writing.

 

I live with Desiree.  She is a math geek.  We are like yin and yang in that way.

 

My family includes my dad and mom, my sister Kristin, my brother Kevin, and Kevin’s girlfriend Samantha (who is essentially a part of our family!).

 

I am passionate about a handful of things: Jesus Christ, people, and writing & literature. 

Jesus: my REASON FOR LIFE, my gravity, my Rescuer.  Jesus is the lens through which the rest of my life makes sense.  I am so proud of my Savior, so proud of the cross.

People: so many wonderful people in my life … camp friends, college friends, favorite students at Northwestern, kiddos I’ve met through years of youth ministry, plus Emma, Ava, and Elsie, my littlest loves.

Writing/literature: I love to read, but I LOVE to write.  I finished my first novel this January, after working on it for nearly four years.  It’s a story about a girl with OCD, and it draws heavily on my own experience with OCD.  And now I am working on my second novel!  Favorite books:

yes, I really do have a wardrobe in my living room that functions as a life-size diorama of Narnia … nerd alert!

Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, Peace Like a River by Leif Enger (whom I had lunch with this month!), The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, all poetry by Billy Collins, and (new!) The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.

What else would you like to know about me?