Into the Fire

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

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Passionate: right or wrong. Writes love stories with a passion. Raw Romantic Redemptive

  • Nearly . . . Beguiled

    Beguile: To deceive by guile; to delude. To take away from by guile; to cheat. To divert. To cause to vanish unnoticed or without pain.

    Beguiled is a novel I looked forward to reading on the CFBA Tour because of the unique partnership featuring two authors (and friends) who collaborated on this story. Having heard good reports time after time about Deeanne Gist’s historical romance novels, I looked forward to finally reading her work in a contemporary setting since I rarely read historicals. And finally I’d get to experience some fiction, albeit in partnership, from the talented J. Mark Bertrand before his solo debut novel Back on Murder releases in July of this year.

    Rylee Monroe, the lovely dog walker for privileged clientele in Charleston, S. C., meets local newspaper crime reporter and pre-published book hopeful Logan Woods when the Mastiff named Toro behind whom she’s rollerblading scares him up the Confederate Soldier Memorial in the darkness of her late night stroll—or skate. Fearful that this character in a baseball uniform has been following her in the shadows, she dials 911 and their unlikely association begins amidst snickers from the police who arrive at the scene.

    There’s a robber on the loose in this old money section of Charleston, dubbed the Robin Hood Burglar by Logan Woods, but the prowler is only taking certain items among far more expensive and valuable fare and planting some of them at unusual places. When it’s discovered that most of the thievery and vandalism occurs at the homes of Rylee’s clients or former clients, she becomes the primary suspect. By this time, Logan is captivated by the woman and realizes her innocence in spite of some damning evidence against her.

    This is a suspenseful tale which gives a vague hint of who the perpetrator of these weird crimes might be only to camouflage it with an escalation of damage and creepy additions to personal attacks against Rylee’s limited possessions. The raucous confrontation which takes place before and as the perpetrator of the burglaries and vandalism plans to flee, gives the reader a rush, a scare, and much satisfaction at the conclusion of events. It’s only through the final discoveries preceding this scene that the novel’s title comes into play. Fittingly.

    Having some limited familiarity with J. Mark Bertrand’s writing and none with Deeanne Gist’s, I found it a challenge to discern who might’ve written what in the story, where their words met and/or meshed. I must say some of the writing was downright fun, other snippets very clever, and ultimately concise. This was one of my favorite examples from these two authors found on page 187 in the Advanced Reader Copy:

    Liz stepped back, allowing him in. Also giving him his first glance of the fabled pirate barmaid outfit, consisting of a short, clingy shift and a bodice cinched tight enough to squeeze cleavage out of a tree trunk. There were knee-high boots, too, with skyscraper heels and a hundred yards of lacing.

    Fabulous! If you can’t picture that, you’re seriously in need of glasses. There are of course many more examples of fine writing, but overall this is just another entertaining Christian commercial romantic suspense novel with low-key but solid faith elements. The ARC from Bethany House Publishers had a lot of mistakes, so hopefully they’ll be absent in the final copy.

    It might not have been easy writing for these two friends to collaborate, but their first effort proved to be worthwhile.

    Father, you know these people intimately. You’ve gifted them with the art of writing and the wonder of friendship. I pray you would continue to supply them with stories and that each one would glorify you in the process of writing. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Sunday’s Offerings

    Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!”

    Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else–to the nearby villages–so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

    Mark 1:35-39 (NIV)

  • Saturday Sample

    As Dick was shaving in the bathroom, he smiled to himself. The girl of his dreams slept, still lying there in his bed with her blondish hair tousled and covering most of her face. He stepped over to the doorway just to look at her and thanked God for helping him through their courtship. He would have never been able to resist her if he hadn’t finally understood the pure covenant of a marriage commitment—that the commitment wasn’t just to each other but to Him. That’s why it had to be holy. The value of that holiness became apparent on their wedding night when two people who had previously bought into the lifestyles of this world had been able to present themselves as new creations bound not only to each other but to Jesus in an acquired innocence never before experienced in its fullness by either of them. Lovemaking done the way God designed it to be proved beyond all description. Truly and inexplicably thrilling. And it continued to be.
    He admitted to himself that although he still loved his job as racing secretary of The Willow Racing Park, he no longer felt bound to it. In the last couple of months he’d turned his job completely over to the Lord. It was no longer his job, it belonged to the Lord. What that would eventually mean he tried not to think about or imagine. No point. He wasn’t going to backtrack. No matter what, he was going forward with the Lord.
    He’d welcome Harry and Helen at the track tomorrow putting up the signs Cee had made to announce the Tuesday meetings, and once again racetrackers would be challenged to investigate Jesus Christ. He realized he was anxious for them to start, anticipating this season more for what the Lord might do through those meetings than for the racing itself. Last year he would’ve chastised himself for it, thinking he was being negligent toward his job. Not anymore. He would give his job his very best just as he’d always done only now he knew it no longer held the number one priority in his life. For some reason, that gave him peace.
    The four of them would be having dinner together, and he cherished those times. Once a month they faithfully managed to go out to dinner together, and he soon realized those dinners produced some of the best times of his life.
    He finished getting ready and went to sit beside his wife on the bed. Bending down to kiss her, she surprised him by pulling him close to her.
    “I love you, Dick,” she said, her voice sleepy.
    “I love to hear you say that, beautiful.”
    “I’ll never stop.”
    “Neither will I.”
    He prayed for her, and she for him before he left her there and went to the track in the darkness.

    (Excerpt from For His Glory; sequel to Hope Of Glory)

  • Football Analogies (***Warning: Not PC***)

    The athletes have proved their abilities. Wide receivers making extreme catches. Defensive backs shadowing opponents after hearty bumps within the first five yards. Quarterback avoiding sacks. Decent running game. O-line working together to provide a reasonable pocket. D-line rushing the passer.

    Coach retires. New coach steps in. Confident. Ready. With a whole new scheme. Proclaiming a new emphasis. Brings in his guys. More guys than the last coach.

    The new scheme severely contrasts the familiar scheme of the previous coach. Radically different. Not easy to convert to workable cohesion. The O-line falters and the quarterback is soon sacked more frequently than in the entire last season. The wide receivers look confused running their routes. Interceptions erupt. The D-line can’t seem to get to the passer nor can they stop the run effectively. Although the team wins its first and third games against inferior opponents, the season is quickly lost in the games to follow.

    The strengths of this team which made the playoffs repeatedly in the last eight years now seem destined for the basement in all statistical categories. Because the players believe in each other, they remain quiet and thoughtful in the public forum. However, in private meetings they realize this system doesn’t work. Not for them. Not for anyone. It’s a bad system. Doomed to fail in this league, the system with all of its built-in weaknesses has been proven to be unsuccessful whenever attempted.

    Now in football, in spite of all the contract mumbo jumbo, there’s always an out clause. At least for coaches. It’s very possible to get fired after only one year.

    Hmmm.

    Father, protect us from evil schemes. Not because we deserve it but because you are powerful and merciful. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Thursday Thoughts . . .

    I’ve said this before, but it’s important to me. I’d rather have my work respected than published. Probably doesn’t make sense to most writers. There are only so many spots available for publishing these days, so it’s somewhat logical to me that the majority of those will go to “hot” authors and “hot” genres in commercial “reads”.

    If an agent or editor told me they enjoyed or liked or anything positive concerning my writing, that would go a long way for me on my writing journey.

    How ‘bout you?

    Father, you’re the audience I must please first. It’s an honor to write for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Less of Moi?!

    More of Jesus, less of me. That’s our mantra as Christians. Subdue the flesh. Escalate the Spirit. In all areas of our lives. Period.

    I’ve yet to hear a convincing argument to reconcile self-promotion when pressed against the “less of me” principle. Marketing is selling. That’s a fact. Figuring out the most effective way to sell something comprises the world of advertising and, yes, the world of publishing.

    I find it amazing how some advertisements—think of the plethora of Super Bowl ads over the years—entertain us to the max with their humor or make us ponder if the agency who produced them extrapolated the idea from their recent hallucinogenic ingestions. One thing I know for sure is an ad can entertain with its clever ideas but when no one remembers the product when it’s all said and done: Woops!

    Selling my own novels requires more innovation than I can muster. Seriously. There must be a way to do it, but it offends me to see how it’s often done. Overkill. Pressure. Constant reminders to see this review or visit this blog. Some authors integrate the marketing superbly with no objections, seamlessly chanting the ever-present phrase: “Who better to sell (promote) your book than you?” Others of us shrink into a fetal form at the coercing nature of pushing our work in front of some reader’s glasses.

    If it was simply a matter of discussing our work, pointing out who we think would most be attracted to it: no problem. But it’s rarely that. Nope. It’s pressing all readers to look at the book, buy the book, win the book, love the book.

    Mercy.

    God, help me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Positive or Negative?

    The old discussion about writing positive and negative reviews goes on perpetually in blog-dom. I suppose to qualify authentic meaning to the terms “positive” and “negative” when referring to reviewing a novel, it depends on the individual.

    For me, a negative review is one where the book is not liked and the reasons for this dislike are given in a clear and concise manner. I do not take any pleasure whatsoever in giving a negative review, and I try to acknowledge somewhere in the review that there are those readers who will no doubt enjoy the story. I can count on one hand the number of negative reviews I’ve written. They’re no fun, but if I sign on to receive a book for review, I feel it’s my “duty” to do just that and to do it honestly. Period.

    A positive review is my simple stamp of approval. The book satisfied my reading tastes, and I will tell you exactly why—even if it’s abstract reasoning. It’s always fun to share a good reading experience, and I try to make it clear what appeals to me so that other readers can gauge if their interests will be piqued by my review.

    The only other kind of review you occasionally see here might be called the “lukewarm” review. To me this means there was nothing inherently “wrong” with the novel, but it didn’t really justify a rave review. The writing is usually satisfactory, and the plot is in no way poorly constructed, but the characters don’t grab me, and usually there is something which either annoys me or seems too “pat”.

    I acknowledge that all reviews result from personal tastes; things like an individual’s background, experiences, and relationships. Always subjective. Some readers pay no attention to the writing itself, truly not recognizing what constitutes “good” or “bad” writing. All they care about is story, and within that story the characters must touch someplace personal or recognizable or relatable.

    As “they” say: There’s no accounting for taste.

    God, I’m thankful for all the different ways you’ve given your people to create. Amazing ways. Help each one of us who writes to bring you glory however we can. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Sweet romance with . . . Jenna’s Cowboy

    I gotta admit every now and then I enjoy a sweet little romance. Call it a guilty pleasure if you like because I don’t indulge it very often—not necessarily because I don’t want to but because the good ones are hard to find.

    Enter the Revell Book Tour for Sharon Gillenwater’s Jenna’s Cowboy. The title and cover give it away, but the delightful story about a young soldier returning from tours in both Afghanistan and Iraq to his parents’ farm, to help his recovering-from-surgery father harvest his cotton, takes a gentle but authentic look at the trials of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

    Speaking of book covers, there seems to be some reasonable research about readers preferring not to see full faces illustrated on the front of covers. Many readers, myself included, like to imagine the portraits of characters in the story without their pictures being provided to perhaps contrast one’s mental images. In this case I’ll make an exception. The illustration of Nate Langley captures the essence of the character perfectly.

    Big city people usually don’t understand the ties that bind together generations of farming and ranching families and their communities. As huge conglomerates buy up family farms in trouble across this nation, the traditional family units that inherit and pass on these farms and ranches begin to disappear, and it’s a real loss in so many ways. This old tradition is just one more reason why Jenna’s Cowboy tells a touching tale. The bonds of family are featured and demonstrated in the solid Christian values of the Callahans and Langleys.

    Nate Langley returns to his small hometown with a Silver Star and a Purple Heart and the admiration of nearly everyone including his first and only love, Jenna Callahan Colby, now divorced and the mother of a two year old boy. Facing recurring nightmares which prevent Nate from soothing sleep and much needed rest, every backfire and loud noise sends him looking for cover and pumps adrenaline through his system. Mini memory black-outs and a terrifying fear of fire find him muscling through crowds and not remembering how he arrived at his location.

    Dub Callahan owns the huge cattle ranch where Nate worked as a kid and fell in love with Dub’s daughter Jenna while being best friends with Chance, one of her brothers. Nate needs a part time job to provide an income while he helps out his dad at the farm, so he asks Dub if he will hire him to return to the role of the job he loved: being a cowboy. Many years before Dub made it clear to Nate that he expected someone of more prominence to romance his daughter, a decision Dub’s come to regret.

    Jenna is a wounded divorcée, a rancher at heart, a single mother who needs and appreciates the love and support of her family. When she meets up with Nate over a flat tire, the old attraction sparks meaningful memories and ignites the hint of hope.

    Jenna’s Cowboy takes the reader through the love story of two people who must learn how to heal and the inspiration they provide for each other to find a way with God’s help. These are Christian people who live their faith, and Sharon tells their stories with an honesty, respect, and sweetness which avoids the triteness that can often arise in this kind of simple romance.

    Well told and well done.

    Available January 2010 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

    Lord, I pray your continued blessing on Sharon for her heart after you. I ask that you would give her open doors for the stories you’ve given her to tell. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Sunday’s Offerings

    A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”
    Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.

    Mark 1:40-42 (NIV)

  • Saturday Sample

    FRIDAY

    Hutch opened his eyes to the illuminated red numbers on his clock reading 2 AM. He could hear sirens somewhere and rain drops outside his window. “Geez,” he groaned and contemplated getting any more sleep now that he was awake. So tired of waking up in the middle of the night . . . and always with Susan on his mind.

    Without any warning he began to sob simply unable to hold back the sorrow any longer. The pain seemed to eat him from the inside out. After fifteen minutes of the gut-wrenching emotion, he wondered if his wife still cried over them, if she gave him any thought at night when she was all alone like him. Did she still love him as much as he loved her?

    He knew she kept busy. She’d quit her job at the track after the incident with Marilyn, the humiliation too great. Now she drove for a van service doing the 2-horse shuttles. Bacie was lucky to have her—she’d work her tail off for anyone who employed her. Great help, and she’d been driving horses around since she was 16 years old. An amazing girl. Dom Bacie knew it, too. Too old to be hustling her, but Dom would take her in a heartbeat if she gave him the slightest inkling of interest. Good-looking Dom managed all the charm he needed to get whatever he wanted. And had the money to do it if that’s what it took. But Susan would never go for him. She had too much class to play the seduction game.

    Hutch sat up and grabbed the telephone next to his bed. He got his outside line and made the long distance arrangements. Slowly, he dialed her number. The sound of the ring startled him, and he quickly hung up the phone. He dropped back into bed and let the tears pour out again.

    The solitary ring startled Susan out of a not so sound sleep, and she quickly picked up the phone to hear a dial tone. Had she actually heard the phone ring at all?

    (Excerpt from For His Glory; sequel to Hope Of Glory)