Into the Fire

This is a somewhat difficult post to write. Not because it's unreasonable and critical but because it targets some of my fellow authors. I simply ask that those authors who read this would consider what I'm discussing here and try not to be offended or scoff at the suggestion(s). 

Regarding mid-list to top bestselling authors of Christian fiction, it's a given that you have deadlines, marketing duties, appearances to make, classes to teach, speaking engagements, and all the rest of what can come with a successful writing career. In that brief segment of free time you're granted, you undoubtedly have lined up pleasurable and relaxing things to do with family and/or friends to recharge, refresh, and renew your inspiration. Within the hustle of writing novels, you do your best to allow time to commune with the Lord, perhaps even fitting a personal retreat into the mix of allotted time "for you." 

For the reasons above, this post might feel like an "Aw, c'mon! Really?!" moment. And perhaps for you it might be. 

Down here at the bottom of the stack of authors, those of us who write books that haven't managed to rise to the next level have noticed that as we attempt to get to know our favorite authors, promoting their work however we can, writing reviews that praise their stories because we truly enjoy them, mention them and their talent on whatever social media where we're engaged, ask for and supply questions for interviews, offer contests to win one of their books, etcetera, we do it for two reasons. The first is because we think their work deserves the attention we give them. Two is because we know that the more positive publicity/promotion an author receives, the odds are the more books will be sold.  

Personally, I've read novels outside my favorite genres because I'd communicated with the authors who wrote them and decided I'd do all I could to make others aware of their entertaining, meaningful work. 

Christian authors of course have their favorite genres and their favorite authors. The question I'm asking here is who among the mid-list to A-list group of authors will go that extra mile in promoting those who will benefit from their endorsements and promotion? They've earned their positions in the literary world. And no one that I know expects any author to promote a novel they don't like. But some of us down here on the lower rungs do, in fact, write some pretty good stories and could sure use a nod from those authors at the top of the ladder. Why? Because you have a status that influences a large audience, and we would appreciate the smallest effort to point a reader or two our way. Your recommendation matters. It's influential. Simply: we need it. 

Now. I'm not whining about my lowly position in the bookselling realm. I'm speaking for a few authors I know who are very talented, write in popular genres, and, quite frankly, we could all use a boost. It's no fun to be ignored by those we've shown respect. Especially our fellow Christian authors. 

Let me add a personal addendum here: I know that my novels are for an audience that will appreciate my tagline: Raw Romantic Redemptive. The most important word in that tagline is Redemptive. But some will see the "raw-ness" of portraying the world as it is (without graphics and profanity) offensive, so I concede: author or not, they will not typically be my audience. 

I would just encourage other Christian authors to take a step away from your usual friends' books and take a chance on a few other authors. If you like their work, say so because it matters. 

Thank you. 

Father, you know my heart here. Please direct my words to those who will appreciate and understand them. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

For all you "seasoned" citizens, we've been there, done that, thought that. Memories . . . 

Father, thank you for all the talent and gifts you so benevolently give. May each one know from whom their talent comes. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

I'm currently reading a novel which shall remain nameless at the present time because it is filled with all kinds of mistakes. Okay, you say. So who is this inept author? A bestselling novelist, writer of multiple series in the mystery/thriller genre.

Here's the thing. With so much personal success, does it matter enough to stick to a high standard of publication? 

Does this author (or conglomerate of authors) care enough to use an editor, a proofreader, a beta reader, or any of the safeguards generally used before publishing? Because if this book is indicative of self-editing, it's a major failure in that department. Overused phrases appearing very close to each other. Descriptions "borrowed" from previous novels in the series whose storylines are too similar to this one. Words left out of sentences. Habits previously attached to one character show up in another character doing it when they never have before. And, frankly, the list goes on.

Believe it or not, as an author, I'm capable of overlooking some errors. No publishing professional is perfect, and mistakes do get overlooked. But this? This looks like a first draft which no one felt needed to be reread. 

Father, I know this: apart from you, I can do nothing. Help me to be the one you designed me to be, to give it all my best. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He will not grow tired or weary,

    and His understanding no one can fathom. 

Isaiah 40:28 (NIV)

Chapter One from my novel Race:

Race

MONDAY

One

It was hard to say what witnesses noticed first—the shrill piercing screams or the nearly naked young woman uttering them. Apparently she woke up next to a dead boyfriend, both of them allegedly passed out from too much alcohol consumption. The designated “sleeping” tack rooms at the track were located at the end of the long shedrows. Though not large this couple’s was tidy with a few creature comforts such as the mounted flat screen, a queen-size bed, a sturdy and colorful throw rug, a small locked black metal file box, and what looked like a well-preserved near-antique chest of drawers with a pole rigged above it to hang clothes on.

     When I arrived at the scene at 3:30 AM, Carmella Ortiz stood barefoot on the dirt in the shedrow, now clad in the couple’s bedspread concealing her apparently barely there lingerie. She spoke fast with intermittent tears and a hint of a Latino accent. Her story was she’d gone over to her sister’s place for some girls’ night-out event and proceeded to get too drunk to drive back, so her sister dropped her off at one of the racetrack gates, and after she staggered into the tack room, she passed out. When I spoke to her I asked if Mr. Wonderful was present at the time, she said she thought so but couldn’t really remember. Must’ve been some girls’ night-out. Easy to verify.

     After speaking with the young woman, I took a few moments to survey the group huddling behind the tape and to inhale the familiar fragrant aroma of horses, listening to the whooshes of their nostrils, some of them pawing their hard rubber mats at the fronts of stalls wondering what all the commotion was about. Brought back memories of high school summers spent working at the track, of underage drinking and girls who liked taking their clothes off, guys who loved it when they did. Funny how some things never change. 

     Next I needed to ascertain Mr. Wonderful’s whereabouts the previous night and wait for the determination of cause of death. Turned out his name was Roman Diego, the assistant trainer for Walter Casey who was kind of a local big-shot, perennially in the top five leading trainers. Lying on his right side at the edge of the bed, Roman’s only clothing was the beige sheet covering his manhood, no blood anywhere, and it looked like he fell asleep—or passed out—and never woke up. Long dark wavy hair obscured his face, but his torso and left arm bent at the elbow and resting on the mattress were well-muscled which made me think he probably exercised the Thoroughbreds at his barn.

     The crime scene tape forbade entrance to the immediate area which would surely annoy the people who had to work at this end of the barn and live in the neighboring tack rooms, not to mention spook a few Thoroughbreds with its unfamiliar yellow color flapping in the cool breeze.

     Death always presents an inconvenience.

Father, thank you for all the help on this one, for giving me what I needed to get it done. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Anyone remember this summer replacement series that CBS kept switching the nights it was on? Reckless (2014) only lasted one season. It was incredibly cast, superbly written episodes, terrifically well-acted, and ended on a cliffhanger. So angry that it didn't become a regular. 

Lord, you've dispersed talents and gifts. May each one realize from whom their talent comes. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

I do judge books by their covers frequently but not by their first lines. As far as I know, there's no hard rule concerning those first lines. Of course we want to make them intriguing, but sometimes it's not really necessary, is it? Do you have favorite first lines of novels you've read? If you do, please share them in the comments. 

Here are my novels' first lines.

WIP

She showed up with a bewildered look on her face, having braved the tree-shrouded gravel drive to the isolated cabin I occupied on my heavily forested 30 acres.

Then . . . you

"What the hell?" 

. . . in a love song

The first time he looked over the half-empty pitchers of beer on the oblong rough-hewn table and past the cheeky smiles and loud laughs of the men seated there, he caught a glimpse of her pulling the tap lever while smiling across the counter at a kid he’d swear was under 21.

Seeing . . . 

I was 8 years old when I saw Jesus Christ in the flesh.

Race 

It was hard to say what witnesses noticed first—the shrill piercing screams or the nearly naked young woman uttering them.

Breath of Life

She could make smoking a cigarette look elegant, seductive . . . and dangerous even.

Destination

Now he wondered why he thought this would be a good idea as he stepped onto the first of five stairs that led up to the front door.

Sweet Release

Claudia Madelyn Rutheford hated her name.

The Famous One

Attending this funeral on Easter Sunday seemed especially sad to me — but fitting, nevertheless. 

Hope of Glory

The colors were awakening beneath a sky filled with the intensity of a striking sunrise. 

The Fixer (unpublished)

The rain assaulted the trees, the gutters, the double-pane windows, hard and cold, leaving even the midday seeming like the darkness of evening.

Wounds . . . and Healings (unpublished)

Faith Daniels looked up as the tiny bell over the door tinkled quietly.

Father, you are the Author of Life, every good and perfect gift comes from you, and we are all desperate for you whether we know it or not. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

This man is a master of music, mood, and smooth jazz. Love his music. 

Father, please bless Brian for the beauty he creates with your talents and gifts. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Dark Waters by J.B. Turner is Book 2 in A Deborah Jones Thriller Series.

Deborah Jones is back at it when her journalist spirit is intrigued by the anonymous call she receives from a young hacker (John Hudson). The action that follows that call starts her on another investigation which will result in several deaths – and nearly her own. John Hudson is her boss's and boyfriend (Sam Goldberg) godson. 

In this second novel in the post-9/11 series, the "Conspiracy Theory" regarding the setup of 9-11 is validated by the discovery of the missing 28 pages of a report. No one in the CIA wants any of this report to become public knowledge, meaning whoever ultimately is in charge of all of "it" will do anything to silence those researching it and those who have the information and aren't willing to keep quiet any longer. 

As the body count begins, the serious warnings follow. This story is NOT to be published and Sam's boss is pressing hard. Deborah can work on it at home, but she's unaware of how compromised her home has become. Her contacts in this investigation impress upon her that neither she nor they are safe.

As is often the case – certainly visible in the present day – the lust for power slash money governs these wicked hearts who desire to control/rule the world. Eliminating obstacles – people, namely – comes with the territory and they use a former soldier (Nathan Stone) who they've molded with MKUltra techniques and drugs, using his mentally ill sister as leverage to manipulate him to do their bidding. 

For many characters in this story, their past or present sins are used as formidable blackmail agents to engineer the results desired by this cagey cabal. 

Probably more realistic than many readers might want to believe, Turner captures the essence of the current and past CIA and the corrupted leanings of the alphabet agencies.

(Profanity present.) 

Father, since the Fall of man, the lust for all kinds of sin has existed on earth. You are the only reason we're still around to depict it. Thank you for rescuing me. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Please bless J.B. and help him to write the stories you have for him to tell. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

     Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"  John 11:25-26 (NIV)

     Jesus answered, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."  John 14:6 (NIV) 

               HAPPY RESURRECTION DAY.