Into the Fire

I wonder sometimes if there is a limit to what we can do to improve our writing. Certainly it comes after a long time of preparation, practice, and putting to paper (screen), but then is there a time when we finally admit we’ve done pretty much all we can do?

As a reader, I see the voice of my favorite authors slightly modified over time—especially if they’ve published a lot of books. The early ones read differently than the latter ones. You know what I’ve found interesting in that observation? Some of the earlier novels seem better to me. Guess what. They’re less formulaic, more detailed in their story components.

There does come a time when we as writers have to arrive at a place where we know who we are. We take the necessary time to discover this and venture through the mistake-laden decisions as we construct our stories, but eventually we have to sit back and evaluate who we are. If we write consistently, put together enough books, enjoy the stories we compose, technically improve, clarify, define, and ultimately decide the evolution of our voice has come into its own, I think we have to stop looking at all the didactic manuals we’ve already studied and declare: This is me, who I am as a writer.

When that time comes is different for everyone. And the motivations to improve are also different for everyone. If publication is the primary objective, one might never stop studying because the trends change, and, as I said, those trends aren’t always indicative of better writing and better books. If the desire is to remain published, the structure and storylines might have to be altered to compete. Why else would there be so many publishers rejecting the new work of authors they’ve already published? The writing itself, as a general rule, only improves after time. So why after a three book contract will a house dump their author and reject their new proposal? Sales. An impatience to stick with the author to see if more time will afford them the word of mouth boost to those sales. It’s similar to the professional sports’ leagues now. Loyalties are bought. Money talks.

Don’t assume I’m condemning the people at the helm of these publishing houses because there are some genuine Christians desiring to serve their authors and regretting the decisions to dump them, but it doesn’t change the facts. Someone who was given significance with a publishing contract is now not a viable client and sent elsewhere for any number of reasons, but really it’s always about earning dollars.

So, what determines when you stop saying, “I have to improve, I have to get better.”? When does the satisfaction of writing the last word of a story feel good enough to know you’ve done your best and with a few technical tweaks, a word change here and there, a slight deletion of a paragraph . . . you just know this novel is good. It represents who you are as a writer and storyteller. You take ownership of it.

Some of you will answer, “Never!” I could never reach that confidence level—there are too many great writers out there. This business is too competitive. A writer can never stop improving. And these are the published professionals.

Well, this writer has just about reached the outer limits of her talent. Each new story takes into account all she’s learned along the way—which has been many, many years of reading and, yes, writing. I have a voice I can’t change. The style is what it is, and, while I know from a multitude of test readers for six of the seven novels, there are those who like and enjoy my work and want to read more of it. So far, for the most part, the professionals do not.

So why listen to me? Maybe for only one reason. The Lord God Almighty is the One in charge. If you’re convinced He wants you to write, for whatever reason, then you press on and write. You remain attentive to His voice because He should be the motivation for you to go where you go with your writing. He will require certain things of you, and what He asks you to do might not be what He asks me to do. All along the way, He should be the leader, not us. He dispenses the talent, but how we evaluate talent might not be the same as His evaluation. There are certainly more facets involved from His perspective as He allows and encourages us to develop our writing—God’s purposes never seem to be one-dimensional as ours often are. We improve so we can offer Him our best, and if our best isn’t as good as someone else’s best in our eyes—or theirs—He will accept our offerings with equal joy.

Developing your writing is a training exercise. Employing your writing is the result of your training. Enjoying your writing is the fulfillment of your calling.

As a writer, you must come to the place where you accept your work, take joy in the opportunities to create, realize where improvement is necessary, continue to craft your stories, but don’t in false humility degrade your work, compare what it lacks to those who are “known”, and generally demean your efforts and what they’ve produced. If those are your true feelings, give it up. There is no just reason to deride the “Call” from heaven’s holy One. If you’ve taken up the craft for the wrong motives, leave it behind or modify your inspiration.

There is a place for satisfaction—as in contentment. Accepting who you are and who you will never be. And always, through it all, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.” (Romans 12:3).

Thank you, God, for the blessings of writing. You are the Creator. May I be empowered by your Spirit, in the Name of Jesus, Amen.

*Please continue to pray for Kristy Dykes.*