I was very interested to read the Church’s statement on what members could do to help mitigate the tragedy in Haiti. 

“Money is not the only need in Haiti. People are frightened, bewildered, and wholly uncertain about their future. In addition to what people can do in helping with food, water and shelter, there needs to be a calming influence over that troubled nation. We invite our people everywhere to supplicate God for a spirit of calm and peace among the people as urgent aid and reconstruction efforts continue” (lds.org/Newsroom 22 January)

The only balm for disaster in our lives is the Spirit.  I think of those patient, stunned children lying in the road in Haiti, too ill and dehydrated even to move.  I know they are traumatized, but I also know that they are not forgotten.  The Light of Christ is within them, and should they die from this horrendous event, they will be clasped in the arms of their Savior and know more love than they ever thought possible.

How can we apply this to our own, equally fragile lives?  Should we fear?  Should we be anxious?  The answer comes in the above scripture from the Lord to Oliver Cowdery.
Fear, doubt, sin, and pride .are the greatest stumbling blocks to faith.  So, as part of following the standard advice, “If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear,” we need to concentrate not only on disaster preparedness, but most importantly on spiritual preparedness. 

It is past time that we set our spiritual houses in order.  For many years, I was beset by fear and anxiety that totally crippled me, and prevented me from gaining the faith I needed to be healed from a long illness. I had repented and continued to repent from every sin I could think of, and my illness had humbled me to the dust, but I held on to my fears.  I could not give them up.   However. the more I came to understand the atonement, the more I realized that to “look to me in all things” meant that we had to develop trust.  We aren’t looking to Him in all things if we are concentrating on our checkbooks, our children’s faults, the news of the world.  Looking to him in all things means literally that.  It is a form of consecration. Consecration of our hearts, souls, and minds, so that we are conditioned to pray each day about all our fears, worries, and concerns and lay them all on the altar, summoning the faith in the atonement to know that “I can do all things through Jesus Christ which strengthened me.”  If we truly take this as our watchword, we will have the faith necessary to feel the peace of the Spirit, and will be enabled through the grace of the atonement of our Elder Brother to endure what must be endured, and to do what must be done.

I learned this lesson in a very dramatic fashion.  As soon as I finally understood the reality of grace to help me trust my Savior in all things, I put my whole life’s worth of worries and fears on the altar.   I felt them physically leave my body.  My chest was no longer constricted.  My breaths were no longer shallow.  And then, within the week, the new medication that dramatically healed me was found and administered to me by my doctor.

A habit of a lifetime of worry cannot be easily overcome, so I spend many hours in the Celestial Room, trying to be very quiet in my heart and soul so that I can identify new worries and give them to the Lord.  At the same time, I often receive instruction.  But, always I leave with the warmth of the Spirit comforting me, validating in my mind and heart that no matter how things appear to me, the Lord of the Universe is in control.  I leave my doubt and fear at the doors of the temple, and strengthened beyond my own capacity, go out into the world and do what is requisite for the mission and responsibilities the Lord has given me.

Everyone, I’m in serious trouble here.  Does anyone know of a twelve-step program for Gadgetaholics?  My husband’s obsession is searching the Internet for new and interesting gadgets, which he promptly purchases.  Since I have been laid up with my last two hip surgeries, I can understand the Roomba (robot vacuum).  However, why does he need THREE flashlights of varying sizes attached to plug-in rechargers by his bed?  He only has two hands.

And what is with this new thing that will turn off all the lights in the house one by one (it has to have a code or something) from his bed?  For Christmas, I asked him if he had any particular requests.  He responded that I should check his wish list on Amazon.  There was something called a Dremel.  Because he had been so generous to me, I ordered it, having no idea what it was.  On Christmas morning I asked him, and he said it was “something that would get into little tiny places.”  Whatever that means.

When Jack came for Christmas, David bought this ridiculous blue thing that you hold up and aim at someone.  When you activate it, it sends an “air bomb” that will ruffle the target’s hair.  I mean, I ask you!

The other night was the absolute limit.  We were sitting in bed talking (about the need for all those flashlights) when suddenly a police siren went off in our bedroom.  We were both quite startled, as you can imagine.  I looked closely at the flashlights, thinking that was the logical place for some reason.  He checked the alarms.  Nada.  Finally, the source of the racket was discovered to be his I-Phone, which was warning him of a speed trap way down in the valley next to the freeway.  We live on the bench above Provo.  I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard.  I mean, really!  It was eleven p.m. and I think it would have served him right if it had awakened him!

Does anyone have a cure?

POSTCRIPT:  In the very few hours since I have posted this, my son arrived with a black bag.  “Here’s your computer, Dad.”  As I processed this during dinner, I realized that all three of our computers were present and accounted for.  After dinner, I said in dulcet tones, “Is this a new computer?”  His brown eyes were innocent as he said, “It’s used.”  He has just bought a new gadget: a Mac Computer.  I am so excited.  I have always wanted a Mac.  I can hardly wait to use it.

All my life I’ve been a drama queen.  While this comes in handy in my profession, it is a distinct disadvantage in real life.  I ache over Tchaikovsky, Dvorak, and Rachmanifnoff.  They speak a musical language that goes straight to my soul.  To me, Anna Karenina is the greatest of all books, because Tolstoy understands the human condition better than any other author I have read.  The number of disastrous romances I had as a young adult defies counting.  Truly.  There were that many, including a death and a schizophrenic fiance.

As most of my readers know,I am bi-polar.  So were my Slavic greats.  Genetically we speak to one another in a language that is the most intelligible there is for us.  Such a would-be Slav am I that I got both my graduate and undergraduate degrees in Slavic history, politics, and economics.

My finest work as a novelist is about the fall of a great Slavic Empire, and is full of tragedy, angst, and neverending love.

Most of you probably do not know that I just went through a semi-emergency hip replacement—my second in six months.  Because of my delicate mental state, these major surgeries are a great trial.  Having overcome my twenty-five year bout with depression only three and a half years ago, you would think that I would remember what it was like.  But, no, the black beast always falls on me, taking me by complete surprise.  It is entirely chemical and only happens after I have blissfully lived in a manic state for close to two weeks.  Then the crash comes.  I can’t begin to describe how horrible it is to revisit this country where I lived for so many years. 

I know there is a God, because as I gained a true testimony of the atonement, I held on until hope came in the form of life-changing medication. 

However, once having lived in that black place, those emotions are never erased.  And that is why every taste I have is informed by Slavic melancholy.  I haven’t known much mania, but that unnatural state is one of high vigilance, seemingly clear vision, and non-stop creativity.  Before my late crash, I wrote for hours every day, starting directly after surgery, and including one complete night.  I plotted a very complex novel, peopled by extraordinary characters and happenings I never would have dreamt in my normal state.   So, it’s a tradeoff.

And that is why I’m Slavic.  I guess my final word on the subject should be thank heavens that:

1.) I live in the day of mood-stabilizers, and

2.) I married a stolid Swede.

Thank you,, Lord.

Merry Christmas to Family, Friends, and Fans!

This has been a great year for the Vandagriff family!  Highlights were our research trip to Florence (see October archives of my blog for diary and David’s pictures.  Also the reason I now call him Herc) and the long-awaited announcement that we will have a new grandchild in 2010!

However, I know most of you are interested in where Christmas finds your favorite characters.  So here’s a Christmas greeting from each of them:

Briggie and Richard are now in their seventies. (See http://www.ggvandagriff.com/books) Briggie writes that she is finally tired of globe-trotting, and has convinced Richard to go on a senior couple’s mission.  For some reason (not to be understood by the rational mind–but you know Briggie), she settled on Italy.  Unexpectedly possessed of a talent with languages, she is bullying poor Richard who has a tin ear for Italian.  They are the only missionaries in Italy who ride twin Vespas,  and Briggie loves to weave up to the beginning of the intersection when the light is red, and then drag race with all the other Vespas  when the light turns green.  They have taken over the investigator we came across in the leather market, and Briggiie has Aldo committed for baptism, which Richard will perform.

Alex and Charles (See http://www.ggvandagriff.com/books) are in the Punjab in India researching the genealogy of a Silicon Valley billionaire.  With them are their two preteens: Rose (12) and Anthony (11).  They are enjoying the adventure, and thinking of traveling to the mountains in search of a Christmas tree.  Both the children have become fluent in Hindi and are being home schooled by Charles in the Classics. He insists that they must have a firm foundation in Greek and Latin.  On their way home next Spring, they plan a trip to Greece to see the ruins, and to Italy to see more ruins, and of course, the art.

Unfortunately, Amalia’s communications have been sparse and cryptic.(See http://last-waltz.com) They arrive through a wormhole in the universe which carries them from France, 1942, where she is undercover as a Special Operations Executive spy in Lyon.  She acts as a courier, receiving and delivering messages from her British controllers to the French resistance.  Though a bit old for this work (she’s in her forties), she was driven to it in hopes that she could make contact with Rudi, an RAF pilot who was shot down over France, but is being hidden by a French family near Lille.  Christmas is tense, because Klaus Barbie, the Butcher of Lyon, is on a relentless hunt for Jews, Resistance Fighters, and SEO operatives.  Separated from her husband for the first time during the war, poor Amalia is not only frightened, but lonely.  However, with her customary courage, she is helping English fighter pilots find their way back to Britain, and is full of hope that she will find Rudi before the Germans do.

Lastly, Maren O’Neill (see http://www.arthurianomen.com) was married this year (to whom?  Can you guess?) and with her family matters settled, is now free to mother Claire as she has always wanted to.  She has settled with her little family in Wales, where she hopes to make a fresh start with her new husband.  They are renovating a charming cottage in North Wales, and are both teaching part time at the University of Wales.  Their Christmas is full of rejoicing, as Maren has just found out she is expecting another child.  A boy this time, who will no doubt be initiated into the mysteries of the Arthurian Legend as soon as he can talk!

Merry Christmas also from the Crazy Ladies of Oakwood, whom you haven’t met yet–Roxie, McKenzie, Sara, and Georgia–who are enduring a Midwestern winter by looking forward to their cruise to the Greek Isles in May.

May your New Year be filled with lots of fun and lots of good reading!

People continually ask me where I get such quirky characters for my books.  Actually, I tell them, the quirk is in my head, passed down from who knows how many generations of eccentrics.  Those who know me well learn not to question this truth.

Therefore, I am extremely gratified to see my grandson, Jack, aka Aniken Skywalker, exhibit signs of said eccentricity.  Last summer when he was 3 1/2, he said to me, his voice very firm, “Nana we need to have a talk.”  I knew I was in trouble for something.  He took me into my bedroom and pointed to my little round table full of knick knacks.  “What are these doing here???

Gulping, I said, “What are you talking about?”  Promptly, he held up a gray pebble, an inch-long piece of driftwood, and a small, razor sharp shell.

I informed him that they were things I got on a special vacation to a beach.  He replied,  “This belongs on a rock pile (the pebble), This belongs on the beach (the driftwood), and This belongs in the ocean! (the seashell).  Nana, this is very bad!  You are breaking Heavenly Father’s rules!

This at 3 1/2?  I feel full of the felicity Mr. Bennett (that wonderful character of Jane Austen’s) must have felt when entertained by the eccentricities of his friends, neighbors, and family.  De-pending on how long it takes me to get Alzheimer’s, I look forward to many years of enjoyment as Jack grows in the subtleties and nuances of his own particular brand of quirkiness.  (I swear, his parents are not runaway environmentalists!)  If only his great grandfather could have known him!  What fun they would have had!

I

It is no news that ever since Harry Potter, fantasy books have been in high demand. New authors are sprouting up all the time. Adults are even reading children’s fantasy books, and the adult fantasy market is burgeoning. Why?

Obviously, people are looking for escape from the world they live in and are looking for alternate realities. What characterizes these realities? Almost all of them have a clearly defined sense of good and evil—something that is missing in today’s society. Good and evil still exist, of course, but they are not acknowledged. In the fantasy world, there is no such thing as political correctness!

People are hungry for heroes. So often fantasy has "Christ figures"—a character who will perform an act that will set the fictional universe to rights. By the number of people who crave these stories, it is quite obvious that we possess an internal archetype that knows good and evil and believes in the possibility of redemption. So, while politicians and media pundits are trying to eradicate a belief in absolutes, people are buying more and more books that deal in absolutes.

If the world we live in today were a fantasy, how would things be made right? It is certainly possible that an author would allow things to play out until they became much worse. Until we were on the brink of total annihilation. Then there would be an apocalyptic ending, where the evil are destroyed and the good redeemed.

My novel, The Last Waltz, (http://last-waltz.com) tells the first half of this story, the decline and fall of Austria as a world power that eventually embraces fascism. Something that isn’t very well understood is that Hitler was seen as the hero of the fantasy that all could be restored to rights. Only a very slim part of society saw Hitler for what he really was. Watching the film "Triumph of the Will" reminds me of a scene in Star Wars where the evil Emperor’s storm troopers are marching on display. It is indeed chilling, and one can see how so many people were deceived by its pageantry.

Germany and Austria’s intellectuals, who might have saved the day, had given up on God and morality and embraced decadence as a way of life. After the horror of World War I, they could no longer believe in the code of ethics that had guided Europe for so many hundreds of years.

This disenchantment with the past also gave rise to socialism as an answer: let’s demolish the class system and nationalism altogether. The socialists represented an alternative to fascism that was very attractive to many intellectuals, including Americans who fought with the Communists in the Spanish Civil War in the early ‘thirties.

So history tells us that we must be careful when we choose our heroes. And the present day preoccupation with fantasy tells us that we must be careful not to confuse fantasy with reality. If "thinkers" give up on the real world, who will save it?

My poor hip is screaming so loud that I have decided to give it a rest and stay in bed for a week with ice packs, etc.

Fun podcast just uploaded at

http://www.ldswomensbookreview.com/wordpress/?p=118  We laughed a LOT!!!

My favorite thing about G.G. Vandagriff’s ‘The Hidden Branch’ is that it doesn’t try to take itself too seriously. The character of Briggie is as fun as her name sounds. She’s a senior lady who lands in jail more than once, yet none of her friends seem nonplussed by the news. And even though the story is whimsical at times, there is some serious action and intrigue. There are plenty of characters, which means plenty of suspects and plenty of reasons to keep turning pages. If you read my review of ‘Last Waltz’ you know that I think Vandagriff is one of the best authors around. ‘The Hidden Branch’ shows that she’s able to adapt to multiple genres with amazing skill.

Do you want a fun read with lots of intrigue that has sleuthing by two wonderful main characters who would rival Agatha Christie’s Poirot? Well I’ve found it in G.G. Vandagriff’s book The Hidden Branch.

This book is just plain fun! Not only does the mystery of the novel twist and turn, but so does your heart as you follow the characters and worry over them. My heart sank when Charles, Alex’s fiancé, has to leave to go to his dying mother. Though I hadn’t read the previous book in the series, which showed the struggle of these two lovebirds getting together, that didn’t stop me from rooting for them to maintain their love. (I’m going to have to read the other books in the series now. Thanks, G.G.) You’ll have to read The Hidden Branch to find out if Charles comes back, and if Alex’s love for him will survive as she works with Briggie to solve this murder mystery.
Grab a warm blanket, a cup of cocoa, and curl up on the couch for this delightful tale.