Into the Fire

Not pleased with the Super Bowl results. So not a Steelers’ fan. Huh-uh. Not even a little.

Overall it was a good game, although for awhile it looked like it was going to be a rerun of the last time the Steelers won the big game. The referees won it for them that year. The Cardinals were not disgraced, and it’s a thrill ride to watch wide receiver Larry Fitzgerald play—when he’s not playing against my team. Plus, I’m a fan of Kurt Warner because he’s never ashamed of the Lord Jesus Christ and always gives credit where credit is due, remaining humble through all the hype.

Gimme a break, Mr. Rooney. What in the world does Obama have to do with football?!

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Okay, so I’m not a marketing genius. In fact I stink at marketing. Probably because I haven’t figured out how to recommend my work to the proper places/people without feeling like a proselytizer. Probably because I’m not young anymore and my perspective on what’s valuable to say and do has become larger. Probably because it makes me feel skin-crawly-creepy to push a book on someone who has no business reading it just to up sales numbers. I’m a prime candidate for a publicist who loves to be challenged.

Since I have no platform and won’t be acquiring one anytime soon, what publisher is going to take a second look at my writing? Believe me, having a platform does matter even in fiction.

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You’ve read my making the case for self-publishing. Tomorrow (Wednesday) I will review a novel for the CFBA Tour which exemplifies why the input on everything from title to cover to back cover copy is one of the perks of self-publishing. You’ll know what I’m referring to in the first paragraph of the review.

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Father, help me to follow the course you’ve designed for me, to go willingly wherever you send me, to continue to make the effort to be the one you created me to be. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.