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

  • Collaboration?

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    Many authors have successfully collaborated on their novels. Some have become consistent writing partners for a particular series. Others have made rare partnerships for a specific novel. In any case, how they split their work, mesh their voices, or do their research is through their personal collaborative definitions of how they want to work together and make their assignments for their shared story/stories. 

    If I could ever have had the opportunity to collaborate with another author, it would've been the late great Vince Flynn. However, it would only have been with the romantic connections for Rapp's women. As those of you who follow this blog know, I created the woman I thought was right for Mitch Rapp in my few weeks of Fan Fiction back in July 2022. I still think she's the perfect one for him, but talking professionals like Emily Bestler into my way of thinking and then striking that collaboration idea with the next Mitch Rapp author Don Bentley seems unlikely at best. A girl can dream, right? 

    Authors, this one's for you: Have you ever considered a collaboration for your work or working with another specific author? 

     

    Father, you're the One directing my steps. Sometimes I woefully miss the directions. Help me not to miss anymore. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 
            
               

  • Sunday’s Offerings

         A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth. Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on his head. His tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth. The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that he might devour the child the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will rule all the nations with an iron scepter. And her child was snatched up to God and to his throne. The woman fled into the desert to a place prepared for her by God, where she might be taken care of for 1260 days. 

         And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down — that ancient serpent called the devil or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.

         Then I heard a voice in heaven say:

              "Now have come the salvation and the power and 

                   the kingdom of our God,

              and the authority of His Christ.

              For the accuser of our brothers,

                   who accuses them before our God day and night,

                   has been hurled down.

              They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb

                   and by the word of their testimony;

              they did not love their lives so much 

                   as to shrink from death.

              Therefore rejoice, you heavens,

                   and you who dwell in them!

              But woe to the earth and the sea,

                   because the devil has gone down to you!

              He is filled with fury,

                   because he knows that his time is short."

         When the dragon saw that he had been hurled to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child. The woman was given the two wings of a great eagle, so that she might fly to the place prepared for her in the desert, where she would be taken care of for a time, times and half a time, out of the serpent's reach. Then from his mouth the serpent spewed water like a river, to overtake the woman and sweep her away with the torrent. But the earth helped the woman by opening its mouth and swallowing the river the dragon had spewed out of his mouth. The dragon was enraged at the woman and went off to make war against the rest of her offspring — those who obey God's commandments and hold to the testimony of Jesus. And the dragon stood on the shore of the sea.

         And I saw a beast coming out of the sea. He had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on his horns, and on each head a blasphemous name. 

     

    Revelation: 12:1-17 Revelation 13:1 (NIV)

                

     

  • Excerpt . . . again.

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     From Chapter 11 of Seeing . . . 

       

         “What’s it gonna be, Blaine?” Rosie attempted to keep her voice neutral, but she doubted it sounded defrosted.

         “So where is she anyway?” He looked up at the older waitress with a cocky sneer on his immature features.

         “Are you ready to order, Blaine, or do you need a few more minutes?”

         He put his arms on the table and examined her. “She was doin’ your cook in there while she was goin’ out with me. Why do you care about a slut like her?” 

         Rosie was no amateur at dealing with insolent patrons. She’d been a bartender for years before coming to this truck stop, and she didn’t take flak from anyone. She glanced around to gauge who might be within earshot before replying. “You sure you wanna have this conversation with me?” 

         He laughed at the concealed threat. “Nothin’ you can say to defend her, Rosie.”

         Rosie stuck her pad and pencil back in her apron pocket, took one more look around, and bent down with her hands on the table. “You’re nothin’ but a punk coward. A big dumb kid who thinks he’s a man when he brings it out of his pants anytime he has the urge. But you got a long ways to go before you ever make it to manhood, you stinkin’ wimp. Real men don’t beat up on women half their size, and if you was half the man you think you are, she wouldn’a had to be ‘doin’’ Jack in the first place, now would she—which she wasn’t anyway.” Rosie’s words were searing. 

         She watched Blaine’s face redden and she saw raw rage converge in his eyes. “You gonna hit me, too, big boy?” she asked, matching his stare with her own ire.

         He pushed himself out of the booth, bumping her as he strode out of the restaurant.  She watched him go and then went back to the kitchen to find her composure. Jack intercepted her, having seen the whole encounter.

         “You alright, Rosie?”

         “It’d take a lot more than that stinkin’ punk to get the best of me,” she snapped, pulling her cigarettes out of her apron pocket. “I’ll be back in a few.” She walked out the back door and lit a smoke.

     

    Father, every word, character, story – apart from you, I can do nothing. Always desperate for you and thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

  • Throwback Thursday

                                2020-07-29 114048

    Messing with my new 35mm Konica camera, a birthday gift for me from my parents right before my trip of a lifetime to Great Britain and Europe which lasted almost 3 months. An incredible journey with a friend. 

     

    Father, thank you for protecting me during that trip. I didn't yet know you, and you still protected me. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

  • Necessary Differences?

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    Obviously, there are differences between Christian Fiction and General Market (Secular) Fiction. Although certainly not in every General Market novel, many contain expletives/cursing/profanity, and some contain graphic sexual calisthenics which could qualify as literary pornography. To find either of those in Christian Fiction would be shocking to most Christian readers and is perceived by almost all Christian authors as a necessary difference between the two markets. 

    But let's discuss the genre differences between the two markets. First of all, as most of you know, I read mostly thrillers, mystery, and suspense. I think it's fair to say that Christian Fiction offers far less of the thriller genre even though several authors/publishers have labeled their novels as such. It might be, in some cases, the differences in thriller content and style between the two markets are subtle, but for the most part the Christian thriller novels do not presently offer an outstanding thriller-concept author for the genre. Instead, they produce some intense mysteries with some violent and/or fast-moving action scenes, but to sustain the level of thrillers, it's not consistently reached or met even in those Christian novels touted as thrillers. 

    There are those Christian readers who might ask how anyone can read secular literature. I know that because I was one of them for a long time. So. I will tell you why I decided to go to the general market for certain genres. As I mentioned in the previous paragraph, at present there are few pronounced thriller authors in the Christian Fiction market. I do hope that isn't taken as a slam to those authors who've attached the "thriller" labels to their work. Truly, I mean no offense. However, there's a distinct quality to thrillers that doesn't always include a romantic element, a completely "stable" hero, more mystery than action, and predictable reactions to certain circumstances. Now I understand that these are somewhat vague descriptions, noting that even non-Christian thrillers can contain these factors – but in the General Market these will usually show up in one of many novels in a long series featuring a particular hero (i.e. Mitch Rapp, John Milton, Scot Harvath, etc.), not in every thriller novel. 

    Yes, there is a 100% chance there will be profanity in these novels, in some more than others. Do I expect it? Yes. Do I like it? No, but from the standpoint of accuracy and keeping with the established character(s) and actions, it's understandable until it becomes obsessive. Then it's particularly annoying. Rarely in genuine thrillers does graphic sexual content appear. Those are the few pages which are skipped if it shows up. The thriller authors I read are outstanding craftsmen in the genre. I'm usually always sorry when the book comes to an end. 

    I would like to say at one time before the great "transformation" of Christian Fiction, there were more thriller authors available. My personal favorite was Robert Liparulo who had the incredible ability to write stories at a frenzied pace that kept you tightly involved in his deep and intense stories. Truly one of the best. 

    So, yes, there are necessary differences in the two markets. However, if you're a lover of genuine thrillers, you'll probably have to go to the General Market to find them. 

     

    Father, thank you for the talents and gifts you give so generously. Please continue to bless those who use them to honor you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

     

  • Tuesday Tunes

             

    That silky smooth voice of the late great Nat King Cole singing this famous love song. 

     

    Father, you are Love. And only you know all the facets of perfect love. Thank you for sharing your love with us. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

     

  • Revisiting “Confessions of an Author” . . .

                Download (13)

    I believe in self-discipline. I'm just not terribly good at it. I have a tendency to learn the hard way through the mistakes I make – many of them due to being stubborn about certain things. 

    Writing is not something I can control or order. Yes, I know: there are those skilled authors who stake their claims on certain writing periods per day, consistently devoted to their schedules. Those authors advocate for these reserved times dedicated to their creative writing. 

    I'm so far removed from that I can't even imagine it. Nor do I want to. Seat-of-the-pants writer that I am, spontaneous creativity, "undisciplined" if you prefer: that's me. But don't mistake that for not being dedicated to my work. It's a simple case of being unable to force it. And practicing that kind of writing will only produce drivel, meandering gibberish. 

    That's my Monday confessional. So be it. 

     

    Father, I thank you for every moment you lead me to writing words. I treasure them. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

  • Sunday’s Offerings

    The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven golden lampstands is this: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

    To the church in Laodicea 

    "To the angel of the church in Laodicea write:

         These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God's creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich, and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. 

         Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. Her I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will go in and eat with him, and he with me. 

         To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne. 

         He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." 

     

    Revelation 1:20 and Revelation 3:14-22 (NIV)

         

  • Excerpt . . . again.

            Excerpt

    From my Work in Progress:

     

    Chapter 19

    I almost ran to the back door when the knock came. I swung open the door and, let me tell you, my eyes are not my best friends when it comes to women because they don't play nice by any rules. They quickly gave her the once over, the lurid traitors capturing all the "right" places. And they almost swooned in delight. I know: over the top. That's what she did to me in her black cargo shorts and white tank top with black low-cut sneakers. 

         She rushed in, apologizing immediately for her assumption that I wouldn't need her until later in the day and how foolish she felt for that assumption. Even asked for forgiveness and promised it would never happen again. And I felt like an ogre, a salivating ogre because her legs and the way her clothes fit her drove me crazy. I took her hand and walked her to my couch and gently pulled her down beside me, still holding her hand.

         "This is all my fault, Sara. I haven't had a schedule other than getting the books in on time for many years. I can't expect you to stay chained to the house while I fiddle around with my writing and you not knowing if and when I might need your help. It's totally unfair. Listen, I want to put some order to my chaos. For me, but mostly for you. Does that sound acceptable to you?"

         She nodded, and I saw she was holding back tears which only deepened my wound for how I'd caused this. I calmly let go of her hand and stood, walked around the coffee table to protect her from me wanting to pull her as close as I could get her. 

         "Again, Sara, my fault." I paused, gathering gumption to elaborate on what I'd said last night. "I've been more honest with you than anyone I can remember, not that there have been very many individuals in my life where I chose to be. Frankly, Seth was first, Savvy second, my mom much later in my life, Tim O'Brien, and now you. I'm not proud of the fact that I've stretched, eliminated altogether, or omitted the full truth from most people I've known. But not you. 

         "I'm sorry for worrying you with my call, and I'm willing to bet I sounded angry which I was not. Truth is, I sort of panicked. I don't know why. Not knowing where you were caused all sorts of stupid thoughts even as far as wondering if you'd gone, left, had decided this really wasn't for you when the guy you work for knocks on your door with who-knew-what-kind-of-intentions. 

         That last comment made her give me a small smile.

         I shook my head in wonder. "I must've been saving up all these words over the years for a conversation I never expected to have. I truly haven't spoken this much to anyone in too long to remember."

         "i'm glad you're speaking them to me," she said softly. 

         If I wrote erotica, it would be expressed in the thoughts which bounced through my brain. I wanted her in my arms, and I knew beyond what I could fully understand I had to maintain control of myself. Because, I grudgingly admitted, it was the right thing to do.

     

    God, apart from you, I can do nothing. You've watched over me my entire life – even when I never had your divine protection coming. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

  • Throwback Thursday

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