Thursday, March 15, 2018

“Each photo has a prologue, a theme, and an afterword.”

He held up just one. “Of all your pictures, this is the one that makes me tear up.” He went on to tell a whole story related to that one picture.

Powerful. Don’t you agree?

And my daughter Karen said this upon looking at this old picture taken at the home of our friends, the Randles:

“I remember that day, and it looks as fun in the picture as I remember—the sweetness of childhood, friendship, and ice cream. And the foggy beauty of contentment and excitement from long ago. I remember the color of the floor inside, the voices of moms, the sliding back door, and the thrilling smell of someone else’s bedroom and toys, and the tingling of imagination, and ‘Let’s pretend….’”

A few years ago, my kids and I messaged back and forth about the next photo of my son, Matt, holding a piranha (piraña) he had just caught in South America:

Matt: “Nice. I still have the teeth from that very fish. Sweet hair, too.”

Karen: “I love so many things about this photo.”

Mom: “Me, too, Karen—the Branks’ house, the steep hill, the basketball hoop.”

Karen: “…the hair, the facial expression, how un-steep the hill looks now….”

Matt: “Hill still looks steep to me.”

Mom: “The sunburnt, blistered, peeling nose, the gigantic freckles.”

Using that one snapshot and the memories it stirred up, I wrote this in my soon-to-be-published memoir (working title, Please God Don’t Make Me Go!):

The three boys [Matt, Glenny, and Tommy] went fishing, too, catching pirañas and barracudas. One day Matt came home with a piraña on a line dangling from his hand—a piraña more than ten inches long. A dead piraña. “Let me take a picture,” I called, running for my camera. 
Then Tommy and Glenny’s dad, George, moseyed over to inspect the prize. “Ah,” he smiled. And paused. Did I catch a hint of a gasp? 
 “Those teeth are sharp enough,” George said, “and those jaws powerful enough, to slice off a man’s finger with just one bite.” 
 And suddenly I looked at my son, and myself, through different eyes. What kind of mother would let her child do such a dangerous thing? I tried not to make a scene but couldn’t help glancing at Matt’s fingers. They were all there. I could only pray silently, Thank you, God, for keeping my boy safe. 
 But Tommy, George, and Glenny took it all in stride. “Now Matt,” Tommy said, “cut off its head and bury it in the dirt. Come back in a day or two. Only the jaws and teeth will be left—ants will eat everything else. You’ll have a great souvenir.” 
 Tommy turned to me. “You can fry that fish for dinner. It’ll have lots of bones, though.” We did, and it did. But that was okay. The memories were worth it. All these years later, Matt still shows those razor-sharp teeth and jaws to his daughters and nephews.

Julie Silander writes, “As we crack open the dusty albums of our memories, we take a few minutes to stroll through the snapshots that comprise our lives. Each picture has a story. A prologue, a theme, and an afterword.”

Julie also finds words for what you and I know so well but might not want to admit: “We would like the smiling snapshots to represent the total picture of who we are. Yet there is more….” How true.

While you read what Julie says next, think of a specific photo related to your memoir. Better yet, hold it in your hand while you read:

“Veiled behind the surface, there is always a deeper story. The argument that happened hours (or minutes) before the picture was taken, the deeper ache just below the surface of the smile, the unexpected turn of events that was to come just around the corner.”

What is your photo’s prologue?

What is its theme?

What is its afterword?

What is the deeper story that pops out of your photo?

Give yourself plenty of time to ponder that deeper story and,
when you discover it, put it in writing!

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

How one old photo led me to write a memoir

Let me tell you how an old photo led me to transform a scrapbook into my soon-to-be-published memoir.

Like I was telling you Thursday in The power of pictures, years ago I put photos in three-ring binders—photos from three years our family spent in South America when the kids were just starting school.

I also typed stories from letters I’d sent my parents, adding them to the photos.

I thought the story was finished—until one day I noticed something in one picture, something I hadn’t noticed before.

It was a picture I took on day one at our new home in South America and it’s always been one of my favorites. I had made copies of that picture and passed them out during speaking engagements. And I had framed it and hung it on the wall. A magnet holds another copy on my refrigerator.

But one day, long after I’d assembled the scrapbook, I saw in that photo something deeper and broader. The earth lurched when I recognized it, and I asked myself, Why did you never notice this before?

After thinking it over, this became clear: In the letters to my parents, which I had based my stories on, I never told them about the scary stuff.  

That meant the narrative in the scrapbook was a list of selected facts, just the everyday surface stuff.

And with that realization, I knew my story was not yet finished.

That photo foreshadowed stories that made ongoing international news—events that touched our family and friends and changed many lives forever.

I had a bigger, deeper, richer story to write—a story about hostility from guerrilla groups—their bombings, ongoing threats of violence, kidnappings, and murdersand what God and courageous people did in the midst of it all.

And now those stories will soon be ready to publish as a memoir. (Its working title is Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go!)

Enough about my discovery and my story. What about you?

Did you examine one or more key photos related to your story?  

Reread our previous post, The Power of pictures, and peel back layers, asking yourself:
  • What is the deeper story behind this photo?
  • What is the bigger issue?
  • Does the photo symbolize or capture a theme in my memoir?
  • Does it contain a secret or solve a mystery? If so, do others now need to know about it? (If someone would benefit—if that would help heal an old wound, right a wrong, or bring forgiveness or hope—think and pray about revealing it.)

Maybe you still haven’t pinned down 
the real meaning
the central idea, or message of your memoir. 

Perhaps a photo will help you discover it.

For a few days, 
think about a key photo and what it represents
It might hold more significance than you now realize.

Thursday, March 8, 2018

The Power of Pictures

Photos play a big role in your memoir: Among other things, they help you, the writer, remember details. But they can also help you recognize big stuff, like your memoir’s theme.  

Don’t believe me? I discovered something profound in an old photo, something I’d never noticed before, and it propelled me into writing my soon-to-be-published memoir.

Dig out a key photo related to your story. Take a few minutes to examine it and jot down what comes to mind.

Let’s start with the easy stuff: 
  • When was the photo taken?
  • Why were you in that place?
  • What did you do there?
  • What was the weather?
  • Who was with you? If a main character in your memoir, note his or her relevant characteristics: physical appearance, quirks, tone of voice, attitudes, values, talents, endearing qualities, maybe even odors.
  • What emotions does the photo stir up?
  • Jot down sensory details: What did you smell? What did you hear? Taste? Touch/feel? See?

Next, dig deeper. Look at those photos with fresh eyes. Read between the lines. What’s lurking (or percolating) under the surface? What are the vibes? Is there an elephant in the room?

  • How did the event or place or that person in the picture change you?
  • Or prepare you for the future and make you the person you are today?
  • Or warn you?
  • Or inspire you?
  • Or make your dreams come true?

But don’t stop there. What’s the bigger picture?

Does the photo symbolize or capture the theme in your memoir? That is, the central idea or meaning or message. A memoir’s theme is about the big picture. Ask yourself, What is my story about?

For a few days, think about your photo and what it represents. It might hold more significance than you now recognize.

Years ago, as keepsakes for my kids, I compiled photos of our family’s three years in South America, and the stories that went with them, and snapped them in three-ring binders.

I assumed I had tied everything together and that the story was complete. But I was mistaken.

“Sometimes you think a story is completed
and all wrapped up.
But then, decades later, something happens
and you realize that it’s not done yet,
it’s still in process.”
Lawrence Kushner, 

Decades later, I looked at one of the photos—one of my favorites, one I’ve framed, one I’ve used in speaking engagements. That day I looked at it and saw something I’d never noticed before.

Why had I never seen it?

And suddenly I knew there was much more to my story than what I’d included in the scrapbook for my kids.  

I had based those stories on letters I’d written to my parents from South America, but those accounts were just the facts. Just the surface stuff, the day-to-day events.

Here’s what the snapshot showed me: It foreshadowed stories that made ongoing international news—events that touched our family and friends. Events that changed lives, forever.

The photo begged me to write additional stories, much bigger than the ones I’d already written, and make them into a memoir.

Come back next week and I’ll tell you how that ordinary old photo took my three-ring binder accounts and transformed them into my soon-to-be-published memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go!

Between now and then,
look at a couple of photos pertaining to your memoir.

Perhaps you, too, will find clues that shout,
Your story is not yet finished!

My photo of Mt. Kilimanjaro as seen from Kenya

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Tuesday Tidbit: We have no idea where our writing will take us

Mick Silva finds that his writing “is prayer and it’s abiding and it’s getting away to be alone with my Inspirer, the anchor of my life.”

Henri Nouwen recognizes that same type of prayerful abiding:

Is prayerful abiding a part of your writing?

Perhaps you’ve already noticed: When we start writing, we have no idea where our memories and ponderings and writing will take us.

Prayerful abiding can make a significant difference in our writing.

It can open our eyes.

Prayerful abiding can change how we hear.

It can adjust the way we remember.

It can transform our hearts.

Prayerful abiding can help us recognize the bigger, broader, higher, deeper story.

In those ways, prayerful abiding can change our stories.

Be a listener.
Listen to the Spirit.
Hear that deeper sound, that different beat
and write your stories.

Be a listener.
Listen to God’s guiding, healing voice
and write your stories.

And there you have it, your Tuesday Tidbit.

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Tuesday Tidbit: Writing about prayer doesn't need to be stodgy or stuffy or boring

Did your heart make a little skip when you read Thursday’s post—about including stories about prayer in your memoir? I hope so. Such stories can be powerful for your readers.

Stories about prayer can:
  • encourage readers to pray themselves,
  • watch for God’s answers,
  • enrich their relationship with God in infinite, eternal ways,
  • and change their lives!

Stories that include prayer don’t need to be stodgy. Or stuffy. Or boring.

They can include humor, suspense, play, adventure, joy, drama, science, and all kinds of lively, fascinating, exciting stuff.

The following quotes will bless you and, I hope, inspire you to write those stories that include something about prayer.

“Prayer is … putting oneself in the hands of God … and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts.” Mother Teresa

“It is impossible to carry on your life as a disciple without definite times of secret prayer. Prayer is not simply getting things from God—that is only the most elementary kind of prayer. Prayer is coming into perfect fellowship and oneness with God.” Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

“Prayer is the heart of fellowship with God. In it we open our total self to God in adoration, confession, thanksgiving, and supplication. Prayer is communion with God in which He speaks to us through the thoughts engendered in our minds and the decisions of our wills. How wonderful: we can share life with the Lord and Creator of the universe!” Lloyd John Ogilvie, God’s Best for My Life

Teaching kids, grandkids, and others about prayer
is one of the most important things you can do.

Your prayers, and your memoir, can outlive your life.

And there you have it—your Tuesday Tidbit.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

What can you write in your memoir about prayer?

Does your memoir include a story about prayer? If it has a spiritual dimension, and if our theme verse resonates with you:  

“Always remember what you’ve seen God do for you,
and be sure to tell your children and grandchildren,”

then you probably will include something about prayer.

To help you, here are some questions to ponder:
  • Who taught you to pray? Or who modeled for you the importance of prayer?
  • Was there a time you were flat-out helpless to do anything but pray?
  • Think about key times in your life in which you prayed and you saw God answer.
  • What happened when God responded to your prayer with silence? Or when He answered your prayer differently than you hoped for?
  • When did a “No” to your prayer result in something even better?
  • What’s the most important aspect of prayer that you can impress upon your kids, grandkids, and great-grands?
  • What stories can you write about prayer (yours or someone else’s) to teach readers about forgiveness, grace, wisdom, and hope? And about loving God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength? (Mark 12:30)

Here are inspirational tidbits to get your ideas percolating:

“Dear God, so often in my prayers I present You with my own agenda. I ask for guidance, and strength, and courage to do what I’ve already decided…. Help me to think of prayer throughout this day as simply reporting in for duty and asking for fresh marching orders. I want to be all that You want me to be, and I want to do what You have planned for me. May this morning prayer be the beginning of a conversation with You that lasts all through the day…. Amen.” (Lloyd John Ogilvie, Quiet Moments with God, February 22 selection based on Ephesians 6:18 “praying always…”)

“Give ear to my words, O Lord, consider my sighing. Listen to my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray. In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation” (Psalm 5:1-3).

“He will respond to the prayer of the destitute; He will not despise their plea. Let this be written for a future generation, that a people not yet created will praise the Lord” (Psalm 102:17-18).

“Our prayers may be awkward. Our attempts may be feeble. But since the power of prayer is in the One who hears it and not in the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference.” (Max Lucado, Discovering the Power of Prayer)   

“Have you ever found that your Father has answered a forgotten prayer? I have, and I always feel ashamed; it is so rude to forget.” (Amy Carmichael, Edges of His Ways, June 24 selection)    

“One of the experiences of prayer is that it seems that nothing happens. But when you stay with it and look back over a long period of prayer, you suddenly realize that something has happened.” (Henri Nouwen, The Genessee Diary)

“... Pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44).

“If you are having difficulty loving or relating to an individual, take him to God. Bother the Lord with this person. Don't you be bothered with him—leave him at the throne.” (Charles R. Swindoll)

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your  Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, don't keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:5-8).

“Isn’t it amazing how often people try everything but prayer? It’s like the old saying: ‘When everything else fails read the instructions.’ The same with prayer. When everything else fails, try prayer…. But Elijah [in 1 Kings 18:22-40] didn’t use prayer as a last resort. Prayer was his first and only resort. A simple prayer of faith was his major contact with the living Lord. It set everything into motion.
            “Let me ask you a straight-out question: Do you, personally, pray? Now notice that I didn’t say, ‘Do you listen when the preacher prays or when your parents pray?’ I didn’t say ‘Do you know a good Bible study on prayer?’ I didn’t even say, ‘Have you taught on prayer?’ I asked, ‘Do you, personally, pray?’ Can you look back over the last seven days and pinpoint times you deliberately set aside for prayer? Even just a solid ten or fifteen minutes of uninterrupted time with God?” (Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives, p. 176) 

“ . . . Pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances...” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).  

What stories about prayer came to mind? 

Quick! Jot down a few notes now 
and work on that story in earnest in the next few days. 

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Tuesday Tidbit: Writing a memoir changes you and your memories

In writing our stories, sometimes, maybe even often, we uncover different memories than those we start with.

Your memories will change, as truths you long held about your life begin to unravel,” writes Bahar Gholipour, quoting from a conversation with memoirist Mary Karr. “Ultimately, you may end up a different person in some ways.”

Gholipour writes, “Your understanding of your life story will change, too.” That can lead to making peace with your past and with people in it. Another benefit can be better mental health. By taking a broader look at aspects and events of your life, and by connecting the dots, your assessment of yourself and your life can change for the better.

Gholipour continues,“But writing a memoir for therapeutic effect should not be your primary reason if you intend the draft for an audience of larger than one, says Sarah Saffian…. [I]f you as the storyteller are sitting at the computer roiling with emotion, then you’re probably not ready to tell your story.”

But when the time is right, get your stories into writing. You might not realize it yet, but penning your memoir could change your life.

You’ll enjoy reading the rest of Gholipour’s article, Writing a Memoir Is a Strange Psychological Trip….

And there you have it, your Tuesday Tidbit.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

“Hope is the answer” and you’re cleared to go

“During my intense grieving moments,” writes Dana Goodman, “other people’s stories gave me words to describe the ache that was indescribable. They gave me hope that a new day would dawn, and I would not be stuck in the black forever.”


“Sharing hope truly is the heart of this writing business,” writes Mick Silva. “Words are like packaging. They’re pretty or flashy or sad or boring. And while everyone appreciates good packaging, ultimately it’s the hope inside them that matters…. We each have to ask…whether we want to share hope or not.”

Read that again. “We each have to ask…whether we want to share hope or not.” That zings, doesn’t it?

The Bible tells us to comfort others
with the comfort we’ve received from God.
(2 Corinthians 1:4)

Your memoir can do that.

That means writing your memoir is not a hobby, it’s a ministry.

Eugene Peterson suggests the church should ordain writers in the way they ordain pastors.

“There are never enough storytellers,” he says. “There are a lot of people who want to write stories but they don’t want to go through the discipline, the agony, the immersion in life it requires…. I think writing is one of the sacred callings. I wish, in fact, that the church would ordain writers the way they ordain pastors….”

Is that a new thought to you?

If so, make time to ask yourself these questions:

How different would your writing be if you viewed yourself as ordained to tell your story?

Can you—will you—consider yourself ordained to tell your story?

Let’s take a minute to ponder: What does it mean to be ordained?

It means to be approved, authorized, appointed, anointed, selected, and chosen.

It means to be commissioned, empowered, assigned, entrusted, and consecrated. And cleared to go.

Have you thought about that question in the past few days?

Maybe something or someone maimed you, left you blemished, flawed, maybe even deformed—maybe in little ways, maybe in massive ways. Perhaps they left you broken, immobilized. Some scars are visible, some are hidden inside.

But remember: A scar is evidence of healing.

How did God transform your wounds into scars?

Who and what did God use to bring healing?

As a result of your experience, what hope can you pass on to others?

Are you now super-inspired to write your story? Please say Yes!

Believe God has
approved, authorized, appointed you.
He has anointed, selected, and chosen you.

Believe God has
commissioned, empowered, assigned you.
He has entrusted, and consecrated you
to carry out our key verses:

Always remember, and never forget,
what you’ve seen God do for you,
and be sure to tell your children and grandchildren.
Deuteronomy 4:9

Jesus said, “Go tell your family everything
God has done for you.”
Luke 8:39

Like Kellie McGann said, “Hope is the answer your readers are searching for…. Tell them they’re not alone in their dark night of the soul.”

“…Writing your story is the only way
to truly express what God did.
And you can’t believe just how remarkable he is
until you step back and see it for yourself.”
Mick Silva, Higher Purpose Writers

Your story can change a life.

Someone needs the hope you can offer.

So hear this:

You know what you’ve been commissioned to do,
and you—youare cleared to go.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Tuesday Tidbit: “Are you a success?”

You don’t want to miss Steve Laube’s message about being a successful writer. With wisdom and grace, Steve explores what a Christian writer’s definition of success should be—and should not be.

He writes, “This writing journey isn’t about how you feel about success, or how does success make you feel. It’s: What does God mean to happen for you and for your readers? What is God’s intent in this and how is He using you to accomplish that intent?

Be sure to read the rest of Steve’s post, Are You a Success?

There you have it: your Tuesday Tidbit.

Thursday, February 8, 2018

If your scars could talk, what stories would they tell?

Scars. You have a few. So do I. When writing our stories, we’ll almost certainly need to examine one or more of the wounds that caused our scars.

Keep in mind that a scar is not the same as a wound.

A wound is an injury, a laceration, a gash, a blow, a rip. Some wounds are superficial, but others are deep and agonizing.

On the other hand, a scar is “a mark left where a wound or injury or sore has healed” (Oxford American Dictionary).

Read that again: A scar is what you have after healing has occurred. After the bleeding has stopped. After the scab has fallen off.

A scar is evidence of healing.

When we think of a scar, too often we associate it with something damaged, defective. A disfigurement, an impairment.

But isn’t it better to recognize that a scar is something that has healed?

Think of your scar as an emblem declaring you’re repaired, a symbol of surviving, evidence your wound has mended.

So I ask: 

If your scars could talk, what stories would they tell?

Most of us are good at keeping our wounds and scars secret—maybe even from ourselves, but a good memoirist will not leave them in hiding.

Dani Shapiro says, “What we ignore, we ignore at our own peril. What we embrace with courage, perseverance, humility, and clarity, becomes our instrument of illumination.”

Our instrument of illumination. 

A good memoirist will
invite God to stand alongside—or maybe inside—
and help peel back layers,
get out a magnifying glass,
and discover the deeper, broader, bigger story.

A good memoirist will make time
to examine the chapters of his life
in which God used wounds
to turn his story in a different
and better direction.

That reminds me of Bev Murrill’s words about Romans 8:28, “Paul said all things work together for good for people who love the Lord and are called according to His purposes. That doesn’t mean what happened is good, but that God can use even the most terrible things if we will let Him treat the wounds and heal them.”

C.S. Lewis said, “Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.” Your job as a memoirist is to look back and discover that extraordinary destiny God has been working out for youa destiny you couldn’t have experienced if it weren’t for your hardship, your wound. You have a scar to prove it.

How did God transform your wounds into scars?

Who and what did God use to bring healing? 

  • A doctor, counselor, or medicine,
  • a Bible passage or Bible study, 
  • a book, 
  • prayer, 
  • a strategically placed friend or relative,
  • time and distance,
  • writing or journaling.

God has many ways of turning wounds into scars.

Bev Murrill says God is capable of “turning ugly gaping wounds into scars that serve as badges of honor and trophies of the grace of God at work in me.”

What badges of honor
and trophies of God’s grace
will you include in your memoir?

Someone needs to know your story.

Someone needs the hope your story can offer.

If your scars could talk,
what stories would they tell?

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Tuesday Tidbit: I need your help due to Facebook changes

HELP! Facebook has rearranged the content you see in your newsfeed. That means you won’t see Spiritual Memoirs 101’s posts as frequently as before.

If you’ve already “Liked” SM 101’s Page, keep it in your newsfeed by going to Spiritual Memoirs 101’s Facebook Page. Toward the top, click on “Follow.” In the drop-down menu, click on “See First.”

And if you don’t already follow SM 101 on Facebook, YOU’RE MISSING A LOT—quotes and quips and inspiration and instruction. Click here to go to Spiritual Memoirs 101 on Facebook. When you do, toward the top of the Page click on “Like” (you might also need to click on “Follow”). Then in the drop-down menu, click on “See First.”

And since I’m asking for your help: Please let your friends and relatives know about SM 101.

A family’s stories are so important!

There’s a reason God told us to always remember what we’ve seen Him do and to tell our children and grandchildren (Deuteronomy 4:9).

There’s a reason Jesus said, “Go tell your family what God has done for you” (Luke 8:39).

What’s that reason?

God created humankind to respond to stories.

God uses stories.
They are among His most compelling
and successful tools.

Learn more: Click on

There you have it: Your Tuesday Tidbit.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Tell yourself rewriting is not punishment

Writing your memoir’s first draft is an experiment. Even your second and third and fourth drafts are experiments.

It’s like trying on for size—like taking five yellow dresses off the rack and heading toward the dressing room. When you slip into them and look in the mirror, you discover only one yellow is the right shade; you look washed out in the other four.

So, you keep only the one yellow dress that’s the right shade—

and in writing,
you keep only the sentences
and words
and paragraphs
and openings
and endings
that fit—those that work best.

You can also compare writing and rewriting and polishing to arranging flowers in a vase. You do your best to create beauty but when you stand back, you see the bouquet is lopsided, or you didn’t distribute the colors well, or you’ve left a gap, so you rearrange it, tweaking it here and there until it’s just right.

With dresses and with flowers and with writing, we need to stand back, take another look, and adjust accordingly.

We can view rewriting and editing and polishing as a pain in the neck, or maybe even punishmentOR we can consider it an enjoyable process of enhancement.

Amber Lea Starfire writes, “As a teacher, it always surprises me when beginning writers resist the revision process, because that’s often when the best writing takes place.

“I think of the first draft as a kind of rough sketch—the bones of the piece,” she continues. “It’s during the revision process that the skeleton acquires muscles and flesh and features. And I often have to do major surgery, restructuring the skeleton, before I can write what needs to be said.” (You’ll enjoy Amber’s post, Writing is Revision is Re-Writing is Craft.)

Good writers revise and rewrite, often many times.

Dinty Moore says, “The difference. . . between writers who are successful in finding an audience and those who struggle, is when and where in the revision process a writer throws in the towel and settles for 'good enough.’” (Read his How to Revise a Draft Without Going Crazy.)

Don't settle for  just “good enough.”

Tell yourself rewriting is not punishment
instead, rewriting is beautification.

So, beautify! And have fun!