Into the Fire

Those who know me acknowledge that I can cry at just about anything – even when trying not to do so. Passionate, emotional, sensitive (make that over-sensitive) with a cyber hard finish and an extremely tender heart. That's who God created me to be – without all the stupid mistakes, sinful decisions, etcetera. It is who I am. 

Having said that, I will confess that it can hurt at times when my novels don't sell, don't generate a buzz or recommendation, or that my writing isn't mentioned as commendable, and all that other affirming "stuff" we authors love to hear, read, or notice discussed. Now, I'd like to make exceptions to that previous statement because of the efforts of the following authors who I personally respect, admire, and celebrate for their choice of genres and how they write them. These are good authors and good writers and I highly recommend them. Brenda S. Anderson, Barbara Ellen Brink, Karin Kaufman, Sibella Giorello, and Robert Liparulo all have commended, recommended, and/or endorsed me for my work. I am beyond grateful to them. They've personally responded to my reviews of their novels – and reviewing their stories is always a huge privilege and pleasure.  

I confess when I see a low but meaningful number of reviews on Amazon for my books (and a few reports from those who've tried but were not "allowed" to post one for whatever befuddling reason[s]) – the exception being the solo 1-star review received – and knowing that more than those have spoken to me privately extolling my story/stories, it's not easy. I detest having to ask people who just want to read a book to please review it on Amazon. It just doesn't feel "right" for me, but you all know I've done it. 

So. Friday is come clean day about those things that can bother me as an author. It is what it is. Confession muted.

Father, you know them all. You know me better than I know myself. You created me for your service. May I continue to seek what you ask of me. I can never do enough to thank you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.