Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

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    Some writers resonate academician precision before they attempt their first project. They’re well-read, methodical, strive for excellence in anything related to words—whether it’s teaching, reading, listening, writing. Some of these writers invariably become what is referred to as “literary” writers because the way words ultimately come together to create story matters almost more than the story itself.

     

    Other writers serve story. The greater the story, the greater the journey in writing it. They can be outliners or strobe their fast-moving plots along by the quaint term “seat-of-the-pants” writers. Move it, move it, move it—they push those words onto the page and surf the words like a giant curl. Those words look like just another great wave to them, and they don’t mess with them to any great degree other than to ride them out to the end of that story, hoping for the perfect ending to “shooting the curl”.

     

    Others of us fit somewhere in between these types of writers. Some plug away with a careful outline, some of us tap away at our keyboards wondering what these characters are up to next.

     

    In the midst of these styles, efforts, and unique perspectives, novels get written. If the authors write enough of these novels, something else happens. The real evolution. Authors get better, improve, graduate to some ill-defined next level. Given enough opportunities, the evolution of writing occurs. And amazingly enough, it doesn’t take fabricated billions of years, a ridiculous mythological carbon footprint, or an unreliable carbon dating system, and it doesn’t take an imaginary, unscientific means of measuring the process. It simply takes place because most authors pay attention to what works for them, what once might have worked but no longer does, where they want to travel to become the writer they hope to be . . . someday, and whatever now influences them to include in their own work.

     

    Some of us know we will never implement those styles of some writers we admire. Perhaps we write in another genre and know we’ll not be trespassing into an area where our skills limit us. We sit at our computers and silently wish we could do what they do but settle for what we do. And then try to do our best. There will always be somebody better than us at what we do. I think coming to that realization is a positive rather than a negative. To some degree it takes the pressure off. Isn’t there enough pressure to perform in this world? Who needs more of the same? Well—maybe pressure is your motivator. For me, the comparison nature of that kind of motivation leaves me silenced and wordless and unproductive.

     

    Simple adventures into first person Point of View—or second or third person or omniscient POVs if never attempted—mark a new adventure for an author. Evolving into a different approach to the similar story patterns make movement in storytelling new and hopefully effective for the faithful readers.

     

    Our local discount Christian bookstore at the mall has become a great place to buy books. Although they get the New Releases, they also stock the warehouse overruns from all kinds of well known and not so well known authors from past to present. Their sales are fabulous, and the majority of stock in the store is usually carrying some kind of sales tag. It’s not unusual to get a regular-priced $12 to $14.99 trade paper novel for $4 to $5.99 or even a hardcover for anywhere from $5.97 to $7.97. I don’t quite know why it’s comforting to see the best authors with these discount sales tags on their wonderful novels. The point here is if you go back to the original novels of multi-published authors after having read their newest books, oftentimes you can see how their writing journey evolved. They’ve changed. Maybe you like the change and maybe you don’t, but chances are if you’re reading their older novels, and by that I mean several years old, you’ll be a witness to their growth.

     

    The real evolution remains personal. We change. We hope we improve. We take on new perspectives, implement new approaches, and we learn sometimes by what we don’t like in ourselves or what we do like in others. This is the real evolution of a writer.

     

    Father, keep workin’ on me. That’s all I got to say. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Lord, I have heard of your fame;

    I stand in awe of your deeds, O Lord.

    Renew them in our day,

    in our time make them known;

    in wrath remember mercy.

    Habakkuk 3:2 (NIV)

  • As in yours. I need them. Anyone who the Lord leads to pray for me: please do. It's a simple request, not earth shaking in the big scheme but I know the value of your prayers will be measurable and immeasurable in my life.

    I've just re-read one of the novels I started but haven't finished last year. And was pleased. Hallelujah! So . . . I'm asking you who are so inclined to help me finish the novel by praying for me if the Lord brings me to mind.

    Prayer makes the difference. I speak from experience. I've been blessed by the prayers of friends and strangers, and those prayers propelled me on in finishing books.

    I'd be honored if you'd consider praying for me–however the Lord asks.

    There are far greater and more important issues in your lives which require your attention and prayers. I in no way want to usurp your time or efforts that you don't have the time or energy to give. If the Lord brings me to mind, remember me in the Spirit.

    Father, thank you for your people. Thank you for motivating all of us to seek after you, to pray for your actions, directions, affirmations. You are all I'm livin' for . . . In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

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    I wrote my sixth novel titled The Fixer with commercial appeal in mind. My sole purpose and aim was to squeeze and squish the story into the 80-100,000 word count. And although I succeeded, it was a miserable adventure with characters who I felt were short-changed in the process of writing it. And even though I enjoyed those characters, this little romance, which includes the trials of three striking sisters who were the illegitimate daughters of a famous photographer and his favorite model, the audience for this book wouldn’t include me, if I was shopping for a new book.

     

    That’s a fine howdy-do, don’t ya think? No, it isn’t. How can we write a story to please an audience which doesn’t include ourselves? What I’ve come to realize as I’ve been trimming it down even more is I did write a commercial romance novel which would probably appeal to some of those readers who’ve liked the novels to which I’ve given either a negative or “bleh” review.

     

    The novel is what it is, you know? It’s not what it should be. Because I don’t write these tidy little books with trim characters. I forced my writing to accommodate a requirement which inhibited the way I work, what I believe in, and how I write. The process was uncomfortable, no fun, and I’m not pleased with the result. If I hadn’t started two more novels to which I need to return, I’d blow The Fixer wide open and let those three sisters and their guys out of their restrictive cages.

     

    Authors give writers all kinds of instructions. “Write what you know.” “Write from your heart.” “Write your passion.” Whatever. My exercise in compliance failed I’m not happy to say. Maybe that’s why I’m a rebel. Cue: “I gotta be me.”

     

    Lord, you know me. You go before me. You give me my place in this world. Let me honor you in the process of becoming a better me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

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    Okay then. The Pastor’s Wife by Jennifer AlLee, published by the new fiction arm of Abingdon Press, is up this week for the CFBA Tour. To begin this review it’s only fair for me to tell my blog readers that this is not my kind of novel, and I am not the intended audience for this book. It’s my own fault for selecting it from the blurb. A simple misunderstanding on my part.


     



    This short novel, The Pastor’s Wife, will appeal to those ladies who enjoy the stories offered by the Love Inspired line or to those readers who will be entertained by the story of a pastor, his estranged wife, and the congregation of a church in a small town community in Ohio. Perhaps it will minister to those pastors’ wives who struggle with their position(s) and/or role(s) in the church.


     



    Maura Sullivan apparently had no idea what to expect when she married the young pastor Nick Shepherd. Almost immediately the young couple takes off on their way to Granger, Ohio, from her home in California when Nick is offered an associate position under an aging pastor. Before too long he becomes the head pastor, and suddenly Maura no longer seems to have a husband. The needs of the congregation overshadow her needs, and when she faces a crisis and calls to ask her husband to come home, he basically tells her he isn’t able to make it home right then but he’ll be home as soon as he can. She leaves him a “Dear John” note and returns to her dad’s place in California.


     



    Six years of separation later she must return to Granger for the reading of a will after the death of a parishioner, Miss Hattie Granger. Within that will Maura and Nick learn of certain unexpected and alarming requirements they must make if they hope to reap the rewards of the generosity of the dead woman’s provision.


     



    There’s no question young people can be full of exuberance, and along with that zeal certain ignorance and spiritual immaturity can accompany the desire to do the Lord’s work. Expectations might be impractical and impossible to execute, but people often push themselves or others to exceed those expectations. This story touches on the trouble created by trying to meet the needs of those who fill the pews before recognizing and attending to those held by the one who shares your bed.


     



    Once again I had a problem with the female protagonist, no fault of the author’s. It’s not that Maura doesn’t “feel real”. It’s that in her trials she abandons God as if she has no idea that difficulties are inherent in a walk with the Lord and with marriage. I certainly understand her trying too hard to fill the unenviable shoes and the ill-defined role of “the pastor’s wife”, especially as a naïve young woman. However, the spiritual and age-wise immaturity of this couple gnawed at me from start to nearly finish along with their individual blindness to each other’s needs and traits which isn’t unusual in young-marrieds but seems to implode early in this self-centered relationship.


     



    For those readers who want a church centered story with a different take on the troubles of a couple in the ministry ending in a satisfying conclusion, this quick read is the book for you.


     


     


     


     


     


     


     



    Father, you know Jennifer and have given her talents with which to honor you. I pray, Lord, that you would continue to provide the inspiration she needs to serve you. Bless her and fulfill her desires as she delights in you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Just because it's kinda nice . . . The Prolific Blogger Award awarded to me from Rebecca Luella Miller after she won it.

    To find out how she won it, go here: http://linktoink.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-awardand-new-design.html

    Here are my award winners (in no particular order):

    Rebecca Luella Miller: http://rebeccaluellamiller.wordpress.com/

    Josh Olds: http://christian-critic.blogspot.com/

    Mike Duran: http://mikeduran.com/

    Kristen Torres-Toro: http://kristentorres-toro.blogspot.com/

    Rachelle Gardner: http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/

    Relz Reviewz:  http://www.relzreviewz.blogspot.com/

    Tim George: http://www.tegeorge.com/unveiled/

    Brandilyn Collins: http://www.forensicsandfaith.blogspot.com/

     

    But really, look at my sidebar to visit some really good blogs by friends who don't post as often as I wish they would.

    Father, may your blessings rest on each of these friends and your inspiration fill them up and sustain all of their efforts done for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  •  

    I’m convinced it is a rare time when a professional in the publishing industry can go into a fresh piece of writing without preconceived notions. They tell us as much when they admit they’re looking for reasons to reject samples of manuscripts submitted to them rather than reasons to request more of said manuscripts. The rules of writing circulate repeatedly around the blogosphere with agents, editors, and those rare publishers who blog weighing in on the basic skills of how to write in order to ward off amateurish drivel which piles up in their emails.

     

    Instructions for writing queries and proposals surface regularly on these blogs because the mass influx of new writers are just beginning to re-ask the same old questions we’ve all had to face and learn—and realize those answers are nearly all different. Introduction 101 to the subjectivity of the writing biz.

     

    All the good intentions by professionals result in a few of the masses paying attention to the instructions while the majority of the writing masses do not. Amusing anecdotes appear on agents’, editors’, and publishers’ sites regarding submissions as a demonstration of the lack of forethought and total irresponsibility of some wannabe writers—a place where most of us who’ve been doing this for any amount of time started out. 

     

    The various personalities of different professionals affect what they will and won’t tolerate, and, let’s face it, some doofus moves can create a smile from a number of them without also managing to irk them.

     

    Writers are constantly reminded of the huge and laborious slush piles demanding the attentions of agents and editors. The bulk of submissions now lies in the laps of agents, who some publishers regard as the gateway to their world. Many of the limited number of proven agents are not taking on new authors because they’re swamped with the needs of the clientele they’ve built. It’s logical to assume that publishers might be returning to established authors for repeated success and diminishing their searches for newer writers. Diminishing—not eliminating.

     

    As I remarked in a previous post, I might not be able to specifically diagnose why I love a book but can tell you precisely why I don’t like one. It is as such for many professionals when they say: I can tell what it is I’m looking for when I see it. That intangible something which makes them ask for more? For me it’s what makes me turn the pages of a novel with anticipation, stay up when my eyes burn, and exclaim “I love this book” to whoever will listen to such an ambiguous statement. The tricky and indefinable part of all this is the subjectivity factor. What I (or any professional) might love, you hate. And always vice versa.   

     

    Preconceived notions? Even readers have them when picking up a new book by a favorite author. So it figures that professionals keep their own expectations either in full view or hidden in their preferences within the genre spots they seek. Plus, they’ve been molded to look for those stories and writers who fit their publishers’ “style”. While some publishers cover nearly every genre, many others do not. Some publishers have created a spot for outside-the-box niche books, i.e. literary novels. They’re willing to take chances on a small market book if it strikes their fancy—and probably if the author maintains an impressive platform.  

     

    And just to show you how little good it sometimes does to make these preferences, instructions, warnings, and guidelines known: I attended a writers’ conference last year and made an appointment with an agent who couldn’t make the event due to illness. Another professional stepped in at the last minute to help eager writers feel like they hadn’t wasted their time and money. The conference information (and pre-conference pamphlet mailed to all attendees) gave the specific stipulations as to what this agent (and other professionals) wanted. Three of the five in attendance at my appointment presented pitches which didn’t fit into any category the agent had listed.

     

    Preconceived notions? We all have them. Defining them can be a problem.

     

    God, where we fail, you don’t. You choose to lead us, but we so seldom follow with our whole hearts. Forgive me for straying to wrong paths when I do. Lead me in your ways everlasting. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • "My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.  . . .  This is my command: Love each other."

    John 15:12,17 (NIV)

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    Aahhh, Valentine’s Day. A day many men dread. And on which many more women become disappointed. Why? Because the expression of love sometimes has little to do with the depth of the emotion of love. And these are the two areas of love which are featured on Valentine’s Day.

     

    There’s nothing “wrong” with Valentine’s Day because it’s supposed to celebrate the noble state of love. Biblical definitions of love make it untenable for humans because when humans become acquainted with love, it’s all about them. It becomes physical and emotional but rarely sacrificial.

     

    Women pout if the objects of their affections are unimaginative, try to ignore the festivities of the Day, give the same ol’, same ol’ gifts as per the media suggestions. Rarely do one male and one female “celebrate” the Day with the same mind. Men have little time to shop for something “special” to tantalize their current squeezes or their mates in order to hop into bed for the proverbial red hot sex which is expected and promoted by all the hype.

     

    All of which has little to do with the four letter word of “love”.

     

    The definition(s) of Love? God is Love. Period. And within that tiny sentence is an explosion of meanings and realities that we humans cannot grasp, understand, or even imitate for the most part. We screwed up our part in it. Flat out blew it. And we’ve been playing catch-up ever since. “Playing” being the operative word.

     

    And I think that’s one possible reason why, in general, men don’t particularly like Valentine’s Day. Because it reminds them of their inadequacies in loving. It taunts them for not understanding the needs of a woman, for the barrier that exists between the sexes, great or small, but visible and coherent even if unable to articulate.

     

    I also think women tend to love the Day because it celebrates what they always hope to have, to experience, to breathe in, to know in its fullness. Yet it eludes them. The need for touch without consummation, the desire to be the only one their man thinks is beautiful, to be celebrated for their perfection which they are sorely short of in every sense of the word. The Day allows them the tease of “feeling” special. That one time a year.

     

    And here’s where we falter. “Feeling” love and living love can be at opposite ends of love’s spectrum at times. While “feeling” love is wonderful, necessary, and sensuous with a mate, it plays only an innocuous part of the whole experience. It’s the “doing” love that becomes the challenge with the curves and twists and injuries life throws at us. I don’t need to diagram love for you. Read 1 Corinthians 13, the love chapter, if you need real definition.

     

    Remember this, if you have any questions concerning true love: God is Love. And it’s only through Him that you can receive and give the real thing known as Love.

     

    Happy Valentine’s Day.

     

     

    Father, I am still learning. I am still trying. I love you with all my heart even though that heart often pursues you with such lacking. I need you, I'm desperate for you, and am a constant recipient and student of your love. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.   

  • When I was in 6th grade, I received two or three giant Valentine boxes of candy from secret admirers on my desk at school. I mean the great big heart-shaped ones. One of them was a yellow box with a pretty flower on it. I think it stands out in my memory because yellow has always been my favorite color (black was added later, probably after life's bumps and bruises). I never found out who gave them to me.

    I'm a "card" person. Hallmark, American Greetings, Leanin' Tree–doesn't matter. I think I got this inclination from my dad who always bought his family cards for every occasion. It takes time to find the just-right card for a person. The cards I've chosen have been known to produce a few tears in my husband's eyes (sshhh!) or have elicited belly laughs from friends. I've also stood in the aisle of a Hallmark shop and burst out laughing myself from some very clever card-smiths. Good cards really do say so much.

    When I was a kid, girls still had to wear skirts/dresses to school. So a few of us girls wore shorts under our skirts so we could do cartwheels on the playground at recess.

    In 6th grade I went steady with a boy by wearing a ring he gave me around my neck on a chain. We rarely saw each other even at school because we didn't have any classes together. We simply talked on the telephone, but it seems there were a lot of silent moments in our conversations. Funny . . .

    My special gift? This humbling, total blessing for which I am so grateful. It came on a day when I was wrecked in the writing ditch, crashed by thoughts and needing the jaws of life to pull me out of maybe giving up. You know how we always talk about God's timing . . . Well, this was His perfection:

    http://http://christian-critic.blogspot.com/2010/02/famous-one-nicole-petrino-salter.html#comments

    Happy Valentine's Weekend. Remember: God Is Love.