Charis Connection

NH: Rejection

2007-11-02T06:00:00.000-04:00

I’m in a bad mood today. Give me a couple of days and I’ll bounce back—I always do. My bad mood is from the same source as your bad moods: a rejection. This one was particularly painful because it was from a publisher I’ve published two prior books with and my new proposal was for my best book yet….in my opinion. They did not agree.

I wish I could say that rejections get easier as the years go by. And for some people, I suppose they do. But I’m not one of those people. I actually have warm blood running through my veins. Smiley here.

If you too have warm blood, you likely go through some variation of the following stages when faced with a major rejection:

1. The first stage, of course, is the What are those stoopid editors thinking stage. This proposal is GOOD! Why can’t they see that? And compare my novel with what IS selling these days! Ack! (Of course, when I reject a novel from an author, it’s always the right decision. I’m clearly exempted from the inept editor category). Another smiley here please.

2. Next comes: I’ll show them! I’ll send it out to a really knowledgeable editor who will publish it to great acclaim. A year from now they’ll be holding meetings trying to remember which editor was responsible for letting this masterpiece slip away!

3. Step three is the food and TV stage. Lots of feel-good food, like pizza, donuts, chocolate chip cookies, Breyer’s ice cream (vanilla, of course). TV-fare like old “I Love Lucy” reruns. Anything that’s funny and mindless. Barney Fife is a great restorer of one’s soul at times like this.

4. Next (after a day or two of misery) I might actually pray about the rejection. Okay, okay, I know this should be step one….but somehow ranting for a couple of days is more fun, if less spiritual. But after the rant and after the gorging, there has to come a time where I must acknowledge that which I’ve known all along: God is my agent. God is the one who directs my writing path. Long ago all of this was surrendered to Him. And yes, another rejection is a clear reminder that God has not seen fit (once again) to consult my timetable. Prayer calms me down. It starts to bring me back into focus. During this phase I may even do some repenting for steps one, two and three.

5. When I think I might be ready to face life as a writer once again, I usually drive over to Barnes & Noble, get a venti-sized mocha, and browse awhile. Usually I’ll pick up a few attractive books and read the first few lines. For some reason, this motivates me. Why, I could have written this, I think. Being in the company of all those books is like finding comfort among close friends. No doubt many, if not most of the books on the shelves at Barnes & Noble were rejected at least once before finding a publisher. I recall the story of Patrick Dennis and his manuscript for Auntie Mame. He started sending it out by working his way through an alphabetical list of publishers. It was finally accepted by Vanguard Press.

6. By the time I’m ready to drive home from the bookstore, I’m beginning to think clearly again. Actually there are two places where I do my best thinking about my writing: in the driver’s seat and in the shower—neither of which is conducive to jotting down all the insights that sprout up. But somehow on the drive home or somewhere during the next day or two, the creativity kicks in once again. The well that I thought was permanently parched by rejection has once again started to accept the trickle of ideas and what-ifs that might make for a great new book idea—or an improvement on the tear-stained manuscript still sitting where I left it after reading the dastardly rejection.

Hope springs eternal for the writer who won’t allow himself to become hardened by rejection. And even if I never publish another book, I’ll still endure gladly (okay, gladly probably isn’t the word here) the process that includes rejection. It’s in my blood, after all. That same warm blood coursing through my veins doesn’t know what it means to give up writing. I suppose that’s a good thing. I’ll be in a better position to decide in about 48 hours.

AH: Broadcasting Foolishness

2007-11-01T06:00:00.000-04:00

I was reading the other night and ran headlong into this quote by Jane Smiley: "If to live is to progress, if you are lucky, from foolishness to wisdom, then to write novels is to broadcast the various stages of your foolishness."

I think that's one of the most profound statements I've read lately. The other day I was talking to a friend about how my theology had changed since I really began to study theology . . . and how I once wrote a novel predicated on the idea that God has a permissive will and a perfect will, and that we can fall short of the latter and have to settle for the former.

"But I don't believe that any more," I said. "I believe that in God's sovereignty, everything I do, even my mistakes, are part of his plan. Why do we always assume that mistakes are bad? That tragedy is undesirable? Because God is going to use even these things to mold us into the people He wants us to be."

Those of us who've been writing for a long time often cringe when we think about our early books because our writing styles have changed--most of us tend to write tighter and leaner with experience. (I edited a book for re-publication the other day and cut out 9,000 completely unnecessary words).

But there are other things that change as well. Novels, like it or not, do put forth a world view; characters learn lessons and change in ways that reflect the author's view of life. So it's crucial that we get it right from an eternal perspective.

The responsibility could be overwhelming, if you thought about it very long or very deeply. Those of us who are believers are presenting and/or justifying the ways of God to man . . . as if He needed our help . . . and yet He chooses to use us.

Wow.

Jane Smiley says that a novel is an ontological construct, which is a fifty-cent way of saying that a novel says, "the world is like this." Smiley also says "as every novelist has a style, so every novelist has conviction" . . . and convictions can change. Which is a good thing, because, according to Smiley , "if the conviction simply dissipates or grows stale, the novels do, too."

So I'm glad I'm changing some of my convictions and adopting new perspectives. As I grow as a person and as a follower of Christ, my work will grow, too. But if I'm saying "God is like this . . .", I must take pains to speak the truth.

So . . . what have I done about the novel based on a premise I no longer support? I went back and skimmed it again . . . and found that the premise is so subtle, I doubt many people will pick it up. Plus, the book is out of print. And I've written a new book, The Novelist, on the sovereignty of God and how it works in our lives.

But the experience has reminded me of my responsibility as a novelist: to take every care to get it right.

Father, help us in our task and forgive us our foolishness. Make us better writers than we are, for your name's sake.

Amen.

Jane Smiley quotes are from 13 Ways of Looking at the Novel. Angela Hunt quotes are from her computer.

BJH: Hope in a Doubtful Age

2007-10-31T06:00:00.000-04:00

In Reality and the Vision, Calvin Miller wrote an essay titled "Ray Bradbury: Hope in a Doubtful Age." He discussed some of the reasons Bradbury's works appealed to him and had deepened his understanding of "how to get along without the burdensome world at hand." In this same essay, he stated that optimism is "Bradbury's great gift to a despairing culture" (and to Miller personally).

That's an observation that resonated with me. I've always appreciated Bradbury's enthusiasm, his positive portrayals of goodness and hope. Many of his stories are written--or seem to be written--with a childlike faith that allows us to share his excitement and his optimism. There are times when I can almost sense him rubbing his hands together, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he works.

I find that that's something I look for in my reading choices. In novels and short stories, I seem to gravitate toward the writers who don't leave me feeling hopeless or helpless but instead let me enter a fictive world that's made up of at least a few characters I can like and even cheer for, a world that offers hope instead of total, bleak despair, and a world in which no matter how difficult or challenging life may be, there's more to it than misery.

I'm not talking about obligatory happy endings. No one in today's world can be fooled into believing that "real life" will be free of trials and heartache, so why would we expect the arts, fiction included, to ignore the reality of suffering and sin, wretchedness and hopelessness? On the other hand, I don't believe that it's at all "realistic" to paint life as nothing more than a succession of meaningless disappointments and tragedies. Some would argue that the "literary fiction" of today is altogether void of the optimism of a Bradbury, but I read widely in both, and I'm convinced that you could make the same argument for much of our commercial fiction as well. It's a matter of searching out authors whose work doesn't deal in unmitigated despair, whether you prefer "category," mainstream, or literary.

John Gardner said that "in our pursuit of greater truth we have fallen to the persuasion that the cruellest, ugliest thing we can say is likely to be the truest. Real art has never been fooled by such nonsense: real art has internal checks against it. Real art creates myths a society can live by instead of die by, and clearly our society is in need of such myths." (On Moral Fiction)

That's why, like Calvin Miller, I appreciate writers like Ray Bradbury--writers acclaimed for their genius and their mastery of craft, writers who are thoroughly familiar with the classics as well as the literary achievements of today, writers who continue to reject mediocrity as they create stories that search for morality and spirituality, at the same time offering excellence--and hope.

BJ
BJ Hoff is the author of the Mountain Song Legacy, An Emerald Ballad, and An American Anthem.

http://www.bjhoff.com/

http://www.bjhoffgracenotes.typepad.com/

NH: Felt Life

2007-10-18T12:22:00.001-04:00

I’ve just finished reviewing another pile of fiction manuscripts. Sadly, I had to reject most of them. A few, though, made the first cut, which means I will re-read them more closely and may ask one of my trusted colleagues here at Harvest House to offer a second opinion.

Of the manuscripts I rejected, some are actually quite good—but just not appropriate for Harvest House. Others were not so good—but not so bad either. Ten years ago we might have published them; but nowadays with fiction so competitive, we really have to be more selective in what we publish. Readers are (well, I hope anyway) becoming a bit choosier about the quality of the fiction they buy.

And then there is the third category of rejected manuscripts: those that are just not good at all. And if I could find one common denominator among these manuscripts, I would have to say they simply have no life. They are plots, they are stories, they are pages of a would-be author’s typing, they are perhaps many things—but they are dead on the page. Even so, sometimes when I read one of these manuscripts, I see promise. On these occasions I wish I had one of those machines Dr. Frankenstein invented where he could put a lifeless body under the zapper, push a button, and jolts of electricity would somehow impart life to the corpus.

However, as any good writer knows, giving life to a manuscript is not easy. In fact, I wonder if any writer really understands the process of giving life to words on a page. I’m quite sure there’s no step-by-step process. As Somerset Maugham said, “there are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.”

I do have a couple of hunches though. First, we know that different authors write their novels through a process that works for them and is often unique to them. Some outline their novel first, while others start with an idea and write their first draft in a stream of consciousness effort. Some authors rewrite as they go, others wait until they have a complete first draft, then go back and edit. Others can even skip around; working on chapter six one day and chapter sixteen the next. So I suspect that imparting life to a novel can be done in different ways too. I can well imagine the revise-as-you-go author requiring his or her muse to supply the necessary life as the writing occurs. The race-through-the-first-draft author may wait until the second or third go-round to call the muse into action.

A second hunch is that life in a novel comes more naturally to a character-driven novel. After all, “life” is in the characters, mostly. We say that a character leaps off the page, or is memorable long after the turn of the final page, or draws on our sympathy. We root for the character, because we believe he or she really exists in the way a character should exist in a novel.

The point that a character is sympathetic (mainly that we are sympathetic to the character’s plight) probably works best for me in defining what I mean by “life” in fiction. An author who simply has a good plot, but has no sympathetic character to carry out the plot is at a disadvantage, it seems to me. Creating a character with “life” surely comes about because the author has first known this character internally and felt the necessary sympathy long before the first word is typed on page one.

One of my recent novels to edit was The Battle for Vast Dominion by George Bryan Polivka. This concluding book in the three-volume Trophy Chase Trilogy is just as full of “life” as the first two volumes. After his final look at the galleys, Bryan told me he once again broke down reading the climactic scene (as did I when I edited it). Fortunately, Bryan had the requisite tissues at hand. Bryan once said that he began this trilogy at least a decade ago. All those years of living with lead character, Packer Throme, in the back of his mind, no doubt added to the emotional impact he felt at this critical scene in the final volume. No doubt his feeling it first, enabled him to write it in such a way that I, too, would feel it—and ultimately every reader as well.

Another author I edit, Roxanne Henke, wrote her third novel, Becoming Olivia, about depression. The main character, Olivia Marsden, is a Christian. She’s a mom and a wife. She’s also very, very real to the reader (who, by the way, first met Olivia in Roxy’s first book, After Anne). When Olivia’s depression becomes apparent in Becoming Olivia, the reader feels it full force. Not surprisingly, Roxy wrote Olivia’s experience out of her own battle with depression. It rings true. It has life. And Roxy’s many fan letters from readers who identified with Olivia are a testament to the life Roxy imparted to her protagonist during the writing.

So I have one final hunch about this topic. It’s that sometimes the grist in the mill for a “sense of felt-life” (a term author Henry James used to describe this fictional necessity) in our novels is the pain God allows us to experience ourselves. What we feel intensely as human beings can, if we’re authors, be transmitted to others through our fiction—fiction that is full of life.
Aha. There it is. Dr. Frankenstein’s invention for imparting life to the lifeless does exist. It’s what we call pain….or joy….or sadness….or anger. For the writer, our life experience—especially our emotional life experience creates in us the mechanism through which we impart life to our fiction.

So Mr. Maugham, I offer as rule number one: A good novel should impart life. And this life is imparted as we allow our own emotional history to bleed full red onto the page before us (and then wisely edited by a trusted editor!).

One rule down. Two more to discover.

Nick Harrison acquires and edits first-rate fiction for Harvest House.

NH: Brooding

2007-10-04T13:11:00.000-04:00

The other night my wife and I went out to dinner. After our meal, she announced that she wanted to go the nearby mall for about an hour. No problem for me. Right across the street from the mall is a very delightful Barnes & Noble. An hour in a bookstore is right up there with an hour-long massage. So off we went.

As is my custom, I headed first to the new books, envying the editors of some and thanking God I was not the editor of others. Next came the bargain books (and it was easy to see why some once promising frontlist titles were now “bargains”). Then I checked out the “staff favorites.” As usual, no one working at Barnes & Noble reads the type of books I enjoy (nor do any of them read Christian books, apparently). Then I wandered over to the Christian fiction section and turned all the Harvest House novels face out. I won’t tell you whose books I had to turn spine out in order to accomplish this. Then I took a few minutes to read the first few pages of our next book group selection to see if it’s going to be a good read. (It is). Finally, nearing the end of my hour, I made my way to the magazine racks. Among the writing magazines was the most recent copy of Paris Review. I’ve long admired their book-length collections of interviews with famous authors and skimmed through an interview in this issue with Norman Mailer. Not too far into the interview I had another one of those “aha” moments we writers get when we read something that rings true to our writing experience.

“I usually need a couple of weeks to warm up on a book,” Mailer said. He also said that sometimes he “broods” over his book before and during the writing.

I like that. He “broods.” If I were to name one common problem among much of the fiction I see in my role as an editor, it’s that the author has clearly not brooded long enough over the story either before beginning the book or as it was written.

Brooding, by the way, is not research. I know many novelists put in the necessary research before beginning their book….but I wonder how many put in the necessary brooding time. An unbrooded book is pretty easy to spot. Simply put, it has no life to it. It’s just a story—a lifeless story. Brooding imparts life into a story. Brooding allows an author time to get to know his or her characters. It also allows the writer time to get to know the story not as a set of events unfolding but as fictional history that the author and reader experience as reality.

How does brooding happen? Most authors will say that their books begin with just a single idea. Either a “what if” or a character who appears to them or some other small seed of a story. So the brooding starts when the seed is planted. Brooding continues as the seed idea is watered and given the sunshine of further imaginative thought so that it can grow into full bloom—sometimes (but not always) before the author even types page one.

Some women novelists compare this brooding time to carrying a baby. An expectant mother, no matter how eager, wouldn’t want to deliver her baby after only three, five, or even seven months. No, she wants that baby to wait until full term (even though the final weeks can seem endless), because when the baby is finally delivered, it’s far more likely to be a healthy baby than if delivered prematurely. So too with a book. A successful brooding period results in a healthier book.

What then does an author do while brooding? How does brooding happen? Does an author simply sit on one’s hands or play video games until the brooding process is complete? No, of course not. A good author knows that the time spent brooding brings results during the brooding process, in addition to after its finish.

For that reason, a notebook is indispensable during brooding; because, as an author broods, insight begins to somehow mysteriously happen—and sometimes at the most unexpected times and in the most inconvenient places. For some reason, this insight that comes during brooding will come at no other time in the creative process of writing a novel. Other valuable insights may come then, but not brooding insight. That’s why it’s important to capture this valuable insight while it’s fresh. Write it down the moment it occurs to you.

Brooding over the actual manuscript is encouraged too. Brood over the open document on your computer. Type snippets of dialogue that come to you. Revise scenes. If brooding is going well, your characters will speak to you during this time. Listen to them. They may suggest new motivations for their actions….or, if you’re brooding particularly well, one or more might even rebel against your predictable plot and reveal their true story, much to your surprise.

So don’t think of brooding as a passive time. A good writer’s mind is always active, always considering, always tinkering with the work at hand. Stephen King in On Writing refers to this as the “boys in the basement” doing their work.

One might think that this warm-up or “brooding” time becomes easier as a novelist progresses, but interestingly, Mailer says that these days (he’s in his 80’s and has been writing successfully for more than 50 years) his warm-up time for a new novel can take up to six months. Six months! That’s far longer than when he began writing all those decades ago. And I suspect if we were to ask Mr. Mailer, he would tell us that the brooding process cannot be hurried up….rushed. Just like a pregnancy.

Yes, there are successful writers who can churn out a book (maybe more than one) in less time than Mailer broods over his books, but as I read these novels I often wonder how much better they might have been had they been properly brooded over. And if you’re a beginning novelist, you may already know how hard it is to find a publishing home these days, simply because of the intense competition. If brooding will improve your fiction—and I believe it will—then it will give your novel a distinct advantage over the many unbrooded (and lifeless) novel manuscripts that come across editors’ desks.

As I set Paris Review back on the rack, my wife arrived to pick me up. She had a great time at the mall, she said. But I had a better time. I had been reminded of an important lesson about writing fiction. I also realized why I had failed so miserably two years ago during National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/) when aspiring authors are encouraged to “write a novel in thirty days” I need at least that long to brood.

Don’t you?

Nick Harrison edits fiction at Harvest House Publishers . . . when he's not brooding.

AH: The writer's voice

2007-09-17T15:45:00.000-04:00

Recently I was reading a thread on a writer's group about voice. I'd also just returned from a writer's workshop where voice came up, and as I looked around the room at my fellow students, I had the feeling that some folks were confused.

But "voice" need not be confusing. When we talk about a writer's voice, are we referring to the voice of his characters? Yes. Of his narrator? Yes. The voice inherent in his exposition? Yes.

In short, a writer's "voice" is found in every word in the book. A writer's voice is unique whether he or she is writing a romance, a young adult novel, even a nonfiction book. Why? Because when a writer is confident and operating on his or her best instincts, writer's voice is wholly his or her own.

The writer's voice springs from some place deep inside. If you are true to yourself and don't try to imitate some other writer, you will find your authentic voice.

I was reading Jane Smiley’s 13 Ways of looking at the Novel earlier this year and I liked what she said about voice, though she referred to it as diction:

“Even in a sentence or two, the reader apprehends not only what the author is thinking of, but also how he or she thinks—with hesitations and qualifications, sharply and straightforwardly, conversationally, contemplatively. Each author’s diction is characteristic, and so is his or her sense of rhythm and directness. His or her mental life, at least with regard to that particular subject, is more and more perfectly expressed by the style he or she uses. He is artful; he chooses; he manipulates; he decides; he judges every word and sound pattern and character detail and twist in the action, and yet every one of these things is automatic, given, natural, right. The mind writing is no longer made of parts—the conscious and the subconscious, the voluntary and the involuntary; it is rather one integrated whole, focused and choosing, from all the worlds in the language, the single perfect one. And the closer the author comes to his or her true stylistic self, the more distinct he becomes from every other writer who has ever written and the more precious he becomes to the reader.”

Your writing voice may be hard for you to define because it is everything about you—the words you choose, the metaphors you employ, the rhythm, the cadence, the resonance . . . As Jane said, the more you relax and let yourself be yourself, the stronger your voice will become.

So write on and don't worry about your voice--it'll be there.

Angela Hunt writes from http://alifeinpages.blogspot.com.

Grace to You

2007-09-04T14:00:00.000-04:00

When we began the Charis Connection blog (“Charis” means “grace”) two years ago, our intention was to provide an alternative to a number of negative comments streaming from some web sites and blogs. Our team wanted to show the truth behind the publishers, the hearts, and the minds that continue to produce effective and quality Christian fiction. We have always seen this as our primary purpose--and as a ministry, a tool with which we could positively encourage and teach those who are interested in writing in this particular genre. It's our sincere hope that, at least to some extent, that purpose has been fulfilled.

We so appreciate those of you who have been faithfully waiting for us to return from our summer hiatus. Over the summer, however, projects and schedules changed for many of us, making a significant difference in just how much we can continue to do and still remain loyal to our publishers and readers. In addition, we realized that most of the Charis team—those who really enjoy blogging—have been busy at work on their own blogs. New sites have opened, and preexisting ones expanded. Many of these blogs and web sites include a wealth of writing tips, information, and instruction. So what we’d like to encourage you to do is visit our author blogs just as you would have visited the Charis Connection.

Frankly, we thought we’d rather take a permanent (or semi-permanent) hiatus than give you warmed-over posts or reruns. After two years, it's become increasingly difficult to provide fresh ideas and venues. So we're leaving you with an invitation to visit our author blogs and web sites and to make use of the extensive Charis Connection archives—over two years of good materials for you to peruse at your leisure.

If something happens in Christian fiction that is worthy of extended comment, we may return to talk about it in the days ahead. (You might want to sign up for a blog feed that will alert you to new postings, as we are inviting our team to send materials at any time.) But for now, because deadlines--and family responsibilities--are pressing heavily upon many of us and we are hard-pressed to offer new material and not lag behind on our own works-in-progress, we are suspending our regular publishing program until further notice. Should the time and opportunity arise when we can see our way clear to resume regular weekday postings, we’ll post an entry to that effect so you'll be the first to know.

We thank you for visiting Charis Connection so faithfully, and we hope you'll continue to visit our individual contributors' blogs and web sites for ongoing information and developments.

Sincerely,

The Charis Connection authors

Ask the Authors: Friday

2007-06-29T06:00:00.000-04:00

Any parting thoughts as the Charis Connection goes on hiatus?

Have a great summer! -lisa samson

A wealth of great information has been posted on Charis Connection over the past couple of years, so I hope people won’t forget that the archives are available right here at the click of a button. -Deborah Raney

I’ll miss the interaction with the readers of this blog. For those who read it because they are pursuing the publishing of a novel, I wish you great success. — Robin Lee Hatcher

Angie and BJ have carried quite a load with the Charis Connection, and I believe their efforts have served to touch many. I will always be grateful for their willingness to add to their busy schedules, and I deeply appreciate them. -Hannah Alexander

If you come here because you want to write, take that part of the day that you’d usually spend here, and put words on paper. Novelists think of themselves as architects, but they are not – they’re bricklayers. Novels are built one word at a time. Start laying down words; you may surprise yourself with what you’ve produced. You probably will. – Tom Morrisey

Enjoy the writing ... and share the gift. -BJ Hoff

A verse for those of us called to this sometimes frightening, often frustrating but always marvelous task of writing:
“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;
your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.” Psalm 138:8 - Ann Tatlock

Just how grateful I am for all involved in the blog and all who've stopped in to read our thoughts. God's best to you this summer, all! - Karen B.

Ask the Authors: Thursday

2007-06-28T06:00:00.000-04:00

What one piece of advice would you give an aspiring novelist?

Just focus on the story and write it. Don't worry about the market, don't worry about what the story is for (to be published? to bless friends and family.) If God has called you to write, just WRITE. Leave the rest to Him. -Karen B.

Don’t confuse your success as a writer with your worth as a person. As a child of God, the first has no bearing on the second. - Ann Tatlock

Read everything you can find by your favorite authors, authors you admire, authors who are writing what you absolutely love to read--just make certain they're writers of excellence. Immerse yourself in good writing, and when you know your "passion"--what you want to write--do it. -BJ Hoff

Make the conflict larger. I’d say 99% of unpublished novelists (and a fair chunk of published ones, me included) could have written a better and more engaging book if they’d taken their premise conflict – the one they had when they first dreamed up the idea for the book – and stepped it up a notch or three. – Tom Morrisey

Don't quit your day job. That places too much pressure on you to write what you think the public wants to read, and not the story that's really on your heart. It forces you to churn out one book after another instead of spending time on that one story until it shines. That kind of pressure, I believe, kills true creativity. -Hannah Alexander

Read, read, read (read everything: Christian fiction, NYT general market fiction, biographies, histories, newspapers, magazines, etc.) — and write something every day. — Robin Lee Hatcher

Study the craft. There are so many wonderful books on the craft of writing, writers conferences, university classes, writers guilds, online writers groups, in-person critique groups, one-on-one mentors...the list goes on and on, and every writer can refine and polish their craft while they wait for that elusive contract. -Deborah Raney

Read well.- lisa samson

Ask the Authors: Wednesday

2007-06-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

If you could change one thing about your writing career, what would you change?

Nothing. The things I wish were different are out of my control. lisa samson

Nada. In the sovereignty of God, I am where I am supposed to be. I've learned from my mistakes and I've been thrilled with my blessings. --Angela Hunt

Oh, wow! What a question! I trust that everything that’s happened in my career has happened for a reason, and I’ve enjoyed and felt loyalty toward each publisher I’ve worked with. But I suppose if I could change anything, it would be to stay “married” to one publisher, to write all my books for the same publishing house, never having to feel disloyal to one when I’m writing (or promoting or signing books) for another. -Deborah Raney

If I could go back and do things over, I would have left my secular publishers sooner to write for the CBA. As much as I loved many things about writing my historical romances, it wasn’t until I came to the CBA that I found my true voice and a greater passion for the stories I am now able to tell. — Robin Lee Hatcher

I can think of nothing I would change. I believe my life is God-controlled in spite of the bad decisions I make, and to have it any other way would be to miss out on the blessings He intended for me and for my readers. --Hannah Alexander

I’d sell better. – Tom Morrisey

I would have started sooner. -BJ Hoff

How much I worried about it. It never added anything. -- Rene Gutteridge

It would be a great and wonderful thing to have more readers! - Ann Tatlock

That my call was to train dogs, not write books. JUST kidding. Well...sorta. But what I'd really change is missing deadlines. That puts so much pressure on everyone--the editor, folks in house, design, marketing, sales...not to mention what the guilt does to me. So I'd not only meet my deadlines, I'd be early! Karen B.

Ask the Authors: Tuesday

2007-06-26T06:00:00.000-04:00

Do you edit as you go or are you of the “just get it down” school of thought?

I’ve tried to get the first draft down fast, quick and dirty. I know that’s what you’re supposed to do. But I can’t. What if I were to die before getting a chance to polish the scene? People would discover what a horrible writer I am. No, I have to assume the worst, that I may not wake up tomorrow morning and ensure that those who find yesterday’s pages won’t be traumatized. — Jack Cavanaugh (who really isn’t unstable, but you get the point)

It's gotta be just get it down. If I let the editor come out to play while I was writing, I'd go nuts! Well...more nuts than I am at present. Karen B.

I claim the distinction of being the slowest writer in Christendom (which isn’t necessarily a good thing). I can’t “just get it down” because it takes me so long to get it together in the first place. The process for me goes something like: think, think, think….write….edit, edit….think, think, think….write…edit, edit…. - Ann Tatlock

I write a day's worth, then before I write the next day, I review what I wrote the day before. -- Rene Gutteridge

I do a lot of editing as I go. I'm not a "first draft" writer. I write in "chunks," writing two or three chapters, doing light editing as I go, then going back and doing more editing on that group of chapters before moving on. Even after the story is told, I revise in sections before going through the entire manuscript again. And again. -BJ Hoff

I feel awful about this when I’m at writing conferences and people talk about the fifth or sixth draft and how not one word of their first draft ever survives – but an awful lot of what I publish is my first-draft work. Maybe 60% of the book comes out the way it first went into the word processor. But there’s a reason for this. I don’t write until I’m ready to write, and by this I mean that if I am forcing words, I realize that a scene has not yet gelled in my subconscious. “Getting it down” produces unusable manuscript for me. So I do something else (tend to yard-work, take a ride on the Harley) until my scene has gelled in my head. And then, when I do write, I immediately go back over the scene and tidy it. Most of my previous revision has been in the area of fixing plotlines, so I have (reluctantly) gone to creating a scene-by-scene treatment of the entire novel, getting the novel in good shape at that stage, and then writing the first draft from that. That’s what works for me, and if I work in this manner, I can also write rather swiftly (probably because the voice in my head can be heard more clearly). Your mileage, of course, may vary. – Tom Morrisey

Unfortunately, I have a horrible habit of editing as I go, and it's so hard to write that way! How I would love to just get the story down in a very short time, then go back over it again and again to polish and shape. Maybe someday I'll be able to develop that ability. --Hannah Alexander

I edit as I go. I used to write faster and do more editing in the revision stage, but over the last decade I’ve found myself slowing down and doing more editing during the first draft. — Robin Lee Hatcher

I'm in the "just get it down" camp. I write in layers, and I write short in first drafts, and enlarge as I go . . . because I'm still discovering all the story's secrets. Four or five drafts is typical for me. --Angela Hunt

I use sort of a leapfrog method, reading yesterday’s pages before I start today’s first-drafting. Then, at about one-third and two-thirds of the way through, I do complete read-throughs of the manuscript, revising again as I go. -Deborah Raney

I edit a bit, but not obsessively. Just usually read over the previous day's work and then move on from there. lisa samson

Ask the Authors: Monday

2007-06-25T06:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome back to another "Ask the Authors" week. If you have a question you'd like to ask our authors, send it to CharisConnection@gmail.com. (Yes, we will be continuing this feature when we come back in the fall.)

What is your favorite part of the writing process: a. Creating proposals for new projects; b. Writing the first draft; c. Revising and refining the manuscript; d. Reviewing the galley; e. seeing the book in print.

e. I'm like Mark Twain, I like "having written." lisa samson

Well, duh. Seeing the book in print, of course. That means the hard work is done. But next to that is revising and refining the manuscript. I LOVE the rewriting process. I get excited by a 13-page substantive edit letter with suggestions and a list to check off of ways to improve my manuscript. -Deborah Raney

I think it's fair to say that the later in the process it is for me, the more I enjoy it. I despise proposals, dread first drafts, and dislike second passes. But it definitely gets easier after that. --Angela Hunt

None of the above. My favorite part is the brainstorming of a new book, when every idea is a possibility and nothing has been rejected/tossed out because it won’t work. The brainstorming usually happens after the first flicker of an idea when I jot down the premise (option A) and before writing the first draft (option B). — Robin Lee Hatcher

No doubt about it, my very favorite part of the writing process is revising and refining the manuscript. That's when I can develop undeveloped ideas, turn the course of the story, find a theme I missed before, and indulge in the setting. Last month, it was my job to delete a manuscript by a third in order for our publisher to reprint the book. It was the most fun time I've ever had in my writing career. By the time I finished chiseling and polishing, I think that story had more clarity than ever before. --Hannah Alexander

Proposals are always a challenge because you’re trying to convey a 97,000-word idea in a 5,000-word sack. And the insolent prima donna in me thinks of proposals as business documents and wants to get on with producing art. The first half of the first draft is nice, but by the second half, I’m Johnstown and it’s the flood. Revising and refining always gives me this feeling that I’m smearing Bondo on a fender – yes, it will look nice when I’m done, but I know the mess it was underneath. Reviewing the galley is sort of a prolonged panic attack, because I always want to do something drastic – like maybe pitch it all and write a completely different book (like most writers, I am just this great, big ball of confidence). And when I see the book in print, I’m afraid to open it because I just know the first word I see is going to be a typo, or a character whose name I changed in every instance but the one that I’m looking at. Yet, oddly enough, when I read one of my books about five years later, I generally enjoy it, because I’m past all the stress and the trauma. Maybe that’s the best part.– Tom Morrisey

Definitely revising and refining the manuscript. (Seeing the book in print is always nice, too!) -BJ Hoff

I love the writing. The proposal is necessary, as is the revising and refining, etc. But the writing, that's where the fun begins! -- Rene Gutteridge

With the exception of writing proposals, I love the entire process. I particularly enjoy the research and the rewriting (the latter because there’s something there to work with, as opposed to a blank page). -Ann Tatlock

You know that old quote, "I don't' love writing, I love having written"? That's me! The part I like best is seeing it in print. And the revision process. I love working with my editor to make the book as strong as it can be. --Karen B.

For me it’s a tie between creating new ideas and revising the manuscript. For me, brainstorming new story ideas is a writer’s high, possibly because at that stage all the mechanics that make a story good are perfect in my mind (we’re all Shakespeare at this stage). But I also love editing and polishing. That’s when I do my best writing and feel like a craftsman. In between those two stages—the first draft—is pure torture. It’s just bad, bad, bad writing and I can’t wait to begin whipping it into shape. — Jack Cavanaugh

We're Going on Vacation . . .er, Hiatus

2007-06-22T06:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Readers:

The original intention of Charis Connection was to band together as a group of published authors and share some of what we've learned about writing, publishing, and the writing life, in hopes that you might find it helpful. With summer arriving with its many activities--including vacations!--we decided this would be a good time to take a break, catch our collective breath, do some future planning and regrouping. So Charis Connection will be on hiatus until after Labor Day.

When we return after that hiatus, it will be with some new features, new approaches, and new insights--but the purpose of Charis Connection will remain the same. Until then, we want to thank you, the readers, for your participation, for your wonderful emails and messages of encouragement and appreciation. We appreciate you--all of you--and we'll let you know when we're back!

*Note: Stay tuned for our regularly-scheduled "Ask the Authors" week next week!

God bless--and have a great summer!

The Charis Connection Authors

P.S. Any ideas for our future? What would you like to see? Let us know in the comments box!

AH: A New Epidemic: CGD

2007-06-21T06:00:00.000-04:00

Years ago, I read an anecdote in Reader's Digest that went something like this: A young husband watched his wife cook a ham, but was mystified when she cut off both ends before placing it in the oven. When he asked why she did it, she said, "Because my mother did."

So they called Mom, asked her the same question, and got the same answer: "Because MY mother did."

So the newlyweds called Grandmom and asked why she always cut off both ends of the ham before baking. "Simple," she said. "Because my baking dish was too small for the whole ham!"

Ah, gotta love that. Sometimes logic should overule the rules we adopt.

I'd like to speak a few moments to a problem I've seen arising out of critique groups. Before you start tossing rotten tomatoes, let me say this: I know that critique groups can be helpful, beneficial, and fun. But lately I’ve recognized an epidemic raging among would-be novelists—I call it CGD, or critique group dependency. I’ve seen firsthand how CGD can stifle a writer’s voice and fill his/her head with nonsense.

I know crit groups have been around forever, but almost every aspiring novelist I meet at a conference meets with one and has picked up a set of “rules” that are too much like Grandma's undersized baking pan. These groups are adamant about what should and should not be done, and often they’re the blind leading the blind.

For those who suffer from it, CGD tends to stifle creativity. For the last writer’s conference where I taught, I went through a stack of manuscripts and kept reading comments like “My critique group feels this is too (insert adjective.) But I think (insert comment.)”

Why would you let a critique group wield that kind of influence? If they offer a suggestion and you are persuaded by their logic, fine, they’ve been helpful. But if they offer a suggestion and it goes against everything in your gut, forget it! These people across the table are not editors. They have no purchasing power. They may not even have any publishing experience behind their opinions--and trust me, things look different once you've been at this a while.

I’ve seen some really odd things in manuscripts lately. At one conference, I looked at a stack of novel proposals. Several of them contained mini book reports on other novelists’ works and read something like this: “My book is a little like Karen Kingsbury’s (insert title here) except that my book features a (insert noun) and she works in a (place) instead of a (Kingsbury place).
What the . . .? I asked my class where this came from (since I’d only seen it in that particular region), and they said they’d been told to do it like that. By whom? Well, someone heard it at a conference and came back and told their critique group . . . and there's Grandma's too-small pan again.

No, no, a thousand times no. Think logically--why make your novel sound derivative instead of strikingly original?

I know where that particular idea springs from, but the concept has been twisted like an ugly rumor. Publishers would like to know of similar books on the market when you’re writing nonfiction, or novels similar in tone for marketing purposes. But that information should be presented at the end of the proposal, more like an afterthought than a selling point.

I’ve also seen manuscripts where the author second-guessed every other line based on feedback from her critique group. Let me assure you of this—a writer’s voice has to be confident. At some point you have to trust yourself and not listen to anyone else. Writing is an art AND a science, and at certain times the art overrules the science. Yes, there are rules and you must know them, but sometimes the rules should be broken. If you break them, you have to break them with aplomb. And, if questioned, you'd better have a reason more valid than your crit group's opinion.

Critique groups—and this is neither a plus nor a negative, it’s just funny—have their own jargon. They talk about RUE and SDT as casually as chefs talk about spices. (“Resist the Urge to Explain” and “Show, Don’t Tell”). I got a giggle at the last conference when a teaching friend told me that someone in her class asked when “STDs were appropriate.” LOL. Maybe never?

Finally, CGD can result in over-exposing the book that’s dear to your heart. You can talk the magic and enthusiasm right out of it if you’re not careful. Others can pick it to death and leave your darling looking like a pampered Persian left out in the rain.

I know that critique groups can be helpful. If you've found a good one, count your blessings. I'm not bashing critique groups, because when they work, I've heard they can be wonderful. (I frequently use test readers and have found that having one can be invaluable.)

But be aware of CGD and its symptoms. You don’t want to suffer from this malady. And you don't want to throw out good material because it just doesn't fit Grandma's pan.

~Angela Hunt writes an equally opinionated blog at http://alifeinpages.blogspot.com.

JK: River Teeth

2007-06-20T06:00:00.000-04:00

Last week while doing research at an old farmstead here in Oregon my husband drew my attention to a massive maple tree. It would have taken six people to reach around it I’m sure and it is at least 150 years old. Suddenly, I was back in Wisconsin.

We had six huge sugar maple trees in our front yard too that provided wonderful shade in the hot summer months of Wisconsin. After dinner (the noon meal) my dad would lie for a time in the shade of those trees before heading back to the fields. One of my favorite photos is of me crawling on my dad’s stomach beneath those trees and a later one of my brother doing the same. My mom was the photographer. She was also the keeper of the trees. Every year the power company came by and announced they were cutting the trees down because the branches affected the power lines. Every year, my mom stood her ground. When they sold the farm in 1976, the first thing the power company did was come out and cut them down before anyone could stop them. I hadn’t thought of my mother as a green crusader but she was.

What’s this got to do with writing? Well, David James Duncan, author of such notable books as The River Why also wrote a book called River Teeth. In it, he writes of big trees falling into streams and being rubbed and changed by the current and debris that catches on them or the branches torn from them. Over time, only the branch forks might be left on the trunks and some of those lurk beneath the water. He calls those sections left behind “river teeth” that catch us unawares. They’re the remainder of another time, another story of a majestic tree. He suggests that when an errant thought from out past comes into our heads, we ought to write about it.

I think our writing grows richer when we step into our pasts. Detail gives our story depth, but discovery of the meaning of the detail allows others to experience a depth of their own. I think about my mom, the crusader. She’ll help inform my character, an ordinary woman wanting to make a difference in the life of her family and community. She just might have a green streak in her future.

Jane Kirkpatrick

Join Jane on her new blog www.janekirkpatrick.blogspot.com or at her website’s monthly memos www.jkbooks.com. Her latest book is out now, A Tendering in the Storm.

TM: Subplots and Sausages

2007-06-19T06:00:00.000-04:00

Hemingway once said that if you believe your reviews when they’re good, then you have to believe ‘em when they’re bad.
I tend to forget that when I get good reviews.

And I’ve been blessed with lots of them on my latest book, In High Places. I can honestly say that I haven’t received a single review or reader letter that I wouldn’t be happy to have on the cover of my next book (trust me – that’s highly unusual). Many point out how much both my character development and voice have grown since Dark Fathom (my last book) which I take as solid praise and a high compliment.

Except it isn’t true.

You see, large portions of In High Places – most of it, in fact – were written and already nearing final draft well before I even began Dark Fathom. Dark Fathom, like the three books before it, was a novel sold from a proposal and written under a contract schedule (roughly one a year), while In High Places was a novel written without a contract, in its own time. It was my pet project, the novel I wrote in between my other ones, and I wrote it just because I wanted to write it, not giving much thought to how it would be received commercially. I was experimenting with a new voice, a different form from my usual plot-oriented narrative and (for me) a new point of view. Although several editor friends did see snippets of it here and there while it was in progress, I told them that I was not looking for feedback or offers on it until it was finished. And if, once it was finished, no offers materialized, then I was fully prepared to publish it as a book-on-demand and give it to family and friends for Christmas. Happily enough, that wasn’t necessary (thanks, Bethany House!).

In High Places took a long time to complete – seven years from the time I first started thinking about it until the time I sent it out as a proposal to my publisher friends. Then again, I didn’t work on it every day and often did not touch it for months. But I was always thinking about it.
So the difference between this book and the one that preceded it is not growth. It’s not a novelist warming to his skills. It’s revision. It’s polish. It’s reflection. It’s time.

Time is the reason that so many novelists throughout history have seemingly been cursed with the sophomore slump – the frustration of following a brilliant debut novel with a mediocre second one. The difference between the two is that the first one was often a labor of love, nursed and polished for years, while the second one was cranked out on a schedule. Tight schedules are good for things that must be produced with regularity, like sausages, but they rarely lend themselves to great art.

Think of that if you are an unpublished novelist. I know how frustrated you must sometimes feel about that (trust me – I know). I know that it must sometimes feel as if it’s going to take forever before someone’s going to offer you your big chance. But being unpublished is not the curse it’s painted as. It is a blessing. It is a gift – a gift of time. It is an opportunity to revise, to subplot, to take the world and people and actions that you have created and bring them to the next level.

Use that opportunity. Set your manuscript aside for a few weeks. Use the time to read Donald Maass’s book, Writing the Breakout Novel. Then go back to your book and find its weaknesses.

Eradicate them. Lather, rinse and repeat.

And if you are published, and you are looking at a schedule requiring you to create five novels over the next 60 months, consider doing something crazy. Consider writing a fourth in your in-between moments.

Why? Because the book you write without pressure will give you room to ruminate, to make broad changes, to experiment. You might find something wonderful – a technique that you can use in your contracted novels. And even if you do not, or if (like me) you find that your pet project and your regular work are as different as apples and oranges, you will be one book ahead of the game when you send your next proposal out to publishers.

Better still, you will have learned the value of reflection. It is a skill that most writers once had (or had the opportunity to have had). But sometimes we get too busy to realize we can reclaim it.

– TM www.tommorrisey.com.

AG: If Only They Had Known

2007-06-18T06:00:00.000-04:00

For Mother’s Day, I took my wife to LakeArrowhead in the San Bernardino Mountains for a nice lunch and a cruise around the lake. It’s a familiar haunt for us, close enough for a one-day trip, distant enough to feel “out of the area.”

Lake Arrowhead is one of the many manmade lakes in California. Tall pines surround pristine blue waters. It’s the kind of place the rich and famous build homes. Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys has a stunning house on the lake, Doris Day once lived in the area, and the inscrutable Howard Hughes used to fly his seaplane and land on the lake.

It is one of loveliest spots on our planet.

Lest you think the Lake Arrowhead Chamber of Commerce has hired me to shill for them, I’ll get to the point: To buy a home on or near the lake will cost you—cost you big time. Unless you’re the type who doesn’t worry about the occasionally misplaced ten grand, you might find the mortgage payments a little steep. Bare property will set you back a million and half or more. If there’s a house on the lot…well, it goes up a few million.

During the early 1930s the Los Angeles Times undertook an interesting marketing plan. They owned a good deal of property around one of the lake’s bays. Someone decided they could increase annual subscriptions simply by giving everyone who signed up for a year’s worth of papers a lot at Lake Arrowhead. Yes, you read correctly—give a lot to everyone who paid for a year’s subscription.

Of course, in the third decade of the Twentieth Century, property values had yet to skyrocket. Still, property in exchange for a newspaper subscription seemed a pretty good deal, and many people took advantage of the offer.

Then the bill for property tax arrived. Some found the $37 a tad exorbitant and returned the lots. Actually, all the new property owners returned their subscription gift.

If only they had known.

To be fair, getting to Lake Arrowhead was more challenging seventy-five or more years ago, and the Depression had driven many families to their knees. Still…one of those “free” lots would pull in millions today.

One problem with being human is we cannot see the future. Some of us have trouble remembering the past and just making our way through the present is challenging enough. But the future is coming, and we can make a mark on it.

One idea that keeps writers going is the knowledge that their books may live beyond them. It might be in the dark corner of the library, but the book is still there. When we do what we do—writer, engineer, homemaker, whatever,—we make an impact on the future. We don’t know what the impact will be or if it will land like a Rhode Island-sized asteroid, or a speck of dust, but it will be real.

I have no idea what, if any, impact my books have had. On the scale of noticeability my work may barely register, but it will register. No one knows what the outcome of their work will be. We can plan, make educated guesses, but we can’t know with any certainty so the work itself needs to be gratifying.

King Solomon said it well: “So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun.” (Eccl. 8:15 NIV)

Al Gansky writes from his home in California. Look for his work at www.altongansky.com.

KB: Endorsing Manuscripts?

2007-06-15T06:00:00.000-04:00

There’s an interesting trend on the rise lately, and I’m not quite sure where it started or why it’s gaining such momentum. Published authors are being inundated with requests from unpublished authors to read their manuscripts and possibly offer a review or endorsement that they can send to publishers with their proposal.

I’m curious. Who thought this was a good idea?

As an acquisitions editor, I can tell you that the only review or endorsement that would have an impact on me would be one from a published author who actually knew the author. Or from an author I know and trust. But bottom line, that’s not something I look for in a proposal. Doesn’t really matter to me if such things are included or not. What does matters is the writing, not what someone else says about a manuscript.

Now don’t get me wrong. Published authors in the CBA want to help unpublished authors. Which is why so many of us take part in writers’ conferences, giving our time to teach, critique, and mentor. But there’s no way we can take the time to read all the unpublished manuscripts we’re being asked to read. Many authors (including yours truly) have made it a policy to turn down these kinds of requests simply because we know it doesn't really help. Which means it's not a good use of your time or ours.

So what can you do to ensure your manuscript has the best chance of being acquired? Have it professionally critiqued or edited. Go to a writer's conference and take one of the mentoring classes to refine your craftsmanship. Take the time to revise, revise, revise. (Say it with me: “Send no proposal out before its time…”) Once you've done these things--once you're certain the writing is as strong as you can make it--then send it off to publishers. And don’t worry about endorsements or reviews from published authors. Because there's just no substitute for a powerfully written story that grabs the reader from the very first page, holds interest throughout, and delivers on the promise of a great story that enlightens and entertains.

That’s what will bring you a contract, friends.

God bless.

Karen Ball

JK: Writing the Historical Novel

2007-06-14T09:00:00.000-04:00

WRITING THE HISTORICAL NOVEL –
JANE KIRKPATRICK’S TIPS

1. Begin with an unanswered question or something strange you want to thoroughly explore – a person, an incident, a time period that intrigues – a story that calls your name and won’t let you go. Don’t write unless you have to.
2. Write one sentence each to answer these questions:
What’s my story about?
What do I feel deeply about in this story?
How do I hope a reader will be changed by reading this story?
3. Choose a title to frame your story and post it with your three answers in your writing space where you can easily see them to guide you during the muddle in the middle.
4. Create a timeline of your character’s important life events; create a timeline of world or regional events that might have affected your character or that they’d have spoken about over their suppers. Decide on an opening time period and an ending time.
5. Begin writing before you think you should. (There will always be more to research) Write even when you’re not inspired. (There will always be dry scratchy coughs).Create a schedule and stick with it.
6. With selected language, create a mood, a sense of time, era, and attitude within the first three paragraphs of your story.
7. Give your protagonist a meaningful desire both external and internal and show them doing something interesting as the story begins.
8. By the end of the first chapter, an event must happen that moves the story forward toward your character achieving their desire as well as identifying early barriers to your character’s achieving that desire.
9. Weave landscape, relationships, spirituality and work throughout the plot.
10. Give your reader new information, connection and meaning showing them how historical lives have relevance for living in our contemporary world.
11. Write as though running a race without listening too closely to your interior critic. Pick an ending date by which you’ll finish your novel.
12. Finish with your protagonist achieving their desires, both internal and external, in a climax scene; then quickly get out of the story wrapping up loose threads.
13. Go back and repeat question two to see how the story has changed you and its own direction now that your story is finished.
14. Let the story sit two weeks then edit using Self-editing for Fiction Writers by Rennie Browne and Dave King or A Writer’s Guide to Fiction by Elizabeth Lyon or other excellent craft books.
15. Imagine the back cover copy; write your synopsis and send it out or pitch at a writer’s conference. You did it!
Jane Kirkpatrick, www.jkbooks.com www.janekirkpatrick.blogspot.com

AT: Preaching to the Choir

2007-06-13T06:00:00.000-04:00

CBA: Preaching to the Choir?

Apparently, it’s a common dilemma for Christian novelists: Should I be writing for the CBA (Christian publishers) or the ABA (secular publishers)? When I started writing novels years ago, I naturally figured I should write for the ABA. After all, if I wrote for the secular market, my message would be reaching the lost, and isn’t that what it’s all about?

I have since changed my mind. Or maybe God changed it. I believe of course there’s a place for Christians in the ABA, but I also believe that my place right now is in the CBA. Maybe writing novels for people who are already believers is preaching to the choir, but there’s a very good reason for doing that. As my fellow novelist Robin Lee Hatcher so succinctly and correctly put it, “The choir is sick.”

No offense. And hey, I’m part of the choir too. But we’ve got to take a good look at the health of the church in America and realize there’s something wrong.

I’m the lady who’s always going on about our postmodern culture, so here we go again. With the loss of absolutes and the rise of relativism, we have no standards of right and wrong--even, in some instances, when it comes to church doctrine. If we think we can’t be absolutely sure about what the Bible teaches, then anything goes.

Unfortunately, anything is going strong. Did you hear about the Presbyterian church that sponsored a retreat for women, inviting them to get away and worship the divine goddess within themselves? The Methodist church that incorporated Wiccan (modern witchcraft) prayers into its morning services? The Baptist church that taught a class on our fellow Christian believers: Mormons, Christian Scientists, Jehovah’s Witnesses and Unitarian Universalists?

I wish I could say it weren’t so. But in fact I attended that class at the Baptist church out of curiosity. My jaw was on the floor throughout. This same church offers a wide variety of New Age literature in its library.

Barna recently conducted a survey to find out how many American adults hold a biblical worldview. The criteria for having such a worldview included believing such propositional truths as: God is the all-powerful and all knowing Creator, Christ lived a sinless life, salvation is by grace and not by works, and the Bible is accurate in all its teachings. The basic tenets of Christianity, right?

Of the overall adult population in America, 4 percent have a biblical worldview. Of those categorized as born-again Christians, 9 percent have a biblical worldview.

What, then, is the other 91 percent thinking?

I suppose among them are those people who call themselves Zen Christians because they simultaneously place their faith in Christ while practicing Buddhism. Also included might be the Methodist witches, the earth-worshipers who revere Jesus as a compassionate guide, the pew-warmers who make their life decisions based on their astrological sign, and the syncretists whose Mr. Potato Head religion is designed according to their own tastes--with a little bit of Jesus thrown in for good measure.

I could go on, but I won’t. I’m sure you get the picture.

Can Christians be deceived? In a word, Yes. Can and are. “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and will turn away from listening to the truth, and will wander into myths” (2 Timothy 4:3-4). I have a feeling that time has come.

In the past few years the Lord has made it clear to me that helping a person stay firmly rooted in the Truth is just as important as introducing a person to the Truth in the first place.
So until the Lord tells me otherwise, I’m sticking with CBA, because I believe that the ministry done through CBA books is important beyond words.
Ann Tatlock's work can be found at www.anntatlock.com.

TM: Where Do Novels Come From?

2007-06-12T06:00:00.000-04:00

Writers conferences are times when I know I’m going to get a lot of questions, and the question that stymies me the most often is, “Where do you get your ideas?”
In general, that’s easier to answer, because novel ideas come from everywhere. They hit you when you’re in church, while you’re showering, in those moments when you go suddenly deaf and dumb, right in the middle of a conversation. On rare occasions, they arrive prepackaged. I once had the staggering experience of having an entire novel pop into my head – every chapter, every scene, and practically every line of dialogue – while I was crossing the lobby at my publishing house. But such Moses-goes-to-the-mountain moments are rare. The ideas are far more apt to come in increments.

Take my current novel, In High Places. If I trace that back to its genesis, I would have to say that it first came to me in my change at the 7-11. It was 1999, and I was buying – I don’t know what – a soda, probably. Anyhow, when I got my change back, I automatically counted it (a habit engrained in me practically since birth by my frugal Irish grandmother).

As I counted my change, I noticed that there was a quarter in it, and I turned it over and looked at it because my daughter, who was nine at the time, was collecting the state quarters. I wanted to see if it was one that she needed.

But it wasn’t a state quarter. It was a Bicentennial quarter – the kind with the Revolutionary War drummer on the back. And while I might have to pause and think a while if you ask me what I was doing in, say, 1983, 1976 is another matter entirely. It was a year of tall ships and fireworks on the National Mall, a year when red-white-and-blue was in vogue and just about everything was lemon-scented. It was a time that was easy to remember, and as I walked back to my van, I got to thinking about that. In 1976 I had just finished college, and I spent much of the summer rock climbing. As I lived in Ohio at that time, the nearest truly challenging rock was in West Virginia: Seneca Rocks, West Virginia.

It occurred to me then that I had, right there, all of the elements of setting. I had a time (1976), a place (Seneca Rocks), and a niche – the athlete-philosopher world of climbing. It was a stage, empty and waiting for its actors.

Who would those actors be? Most good stories are about relationships, and we have in our lives two great mega-relationships. The first is with our parents, and the second is with our soul mates. You only get one set of parents, but your soul mate – or the person whom you think is your soul mate – can change as you grow. And one that always stands out, I think for everyone, is the first love – not the teacher you had a crush on in grade school, but the very first person you ever looked at and truly thought, “This could really be my ever-after.”

Seventeen is a good age for both of those relationships – the age when you’re old enough to have your own car and the trappings of adulthood, but you’re still living at home with your parents. And so, as I already had a hunch that I was leaning toward a relationship novel, I began to get a shadowy glimpse of Patrick, the lead character in my new book. He would be seventeen throughout most of the book, and he would still be living at home. This was a month or two after I got the quarter, and a couple of years before Patrick would have a last name (Nolan).

Now, if I wanted to explore mega-relationships, one of the two was easy. The first love is the first love. But for a parent-child story, I couldn’t be general. For the intimacy that story requires, I really needed to concentrate on one parent or the other.

That was an easy choice, as well. My father passed away in 1985. He was only 65 at the time, an age when most people are just launching into retirement, yet he had already been ill for several years, and it often seemed to me that, although he had seen the world as a young sailor in WWII and come back to raise a family and get his own piece of the American dream, a lot of unachieved potential had died with him. I missed him, and still miss him bitterly, and it almost went without saying that, even though I was now thinking about a story of first loves, and coming-of-age, I was thinking about a father-and-son story, as well.

My father died as a man with gray hair, and I must admit that I put most of them there. There were years when we were very much at odds. Looking back, I felt that I an apology was overdue … and also impossible. But I could find some personal solace by making Patrick an atypical teen – a kid who was tight with his parents, who didn’t sway to social pressures or archetypes, but was individual enough to skip the awkward phase when parents aren’t cool, and embrace at least some of that time that I had so little of with my own father – a time when parent and child can relate as adults.

A story that explored such a father-son relationship would be therapeutic for me, but it would be deadly boring for a reader, because it lacked that most essential element of plot. It lacked conflict. And about a year after getting that quarter in my change, I was straightening my bookshelves and came across a scuba-diving logbook that had belonged to a niece of mine. A dead niece. A niece who had died a suicide.

I hope that you will never have the experience of having someone close to you die by his or her own hand. If you do, I can assure you that the “what-ifs” will multiply and compound your thoughts for years afterward. So will the guilt. It is impossible to lose someone in that manner and not wonder either if you did something to contribute to such an extreme state of despair, or if you failed to help provide some semblance of that essential element – hope – that keeps a person breathing in and breathing out.

That added another brick to the foundation that I was laying. To me, one important element of a Christian novel is that it addresses an issue or question of spiritual importance. And the issue that seemed to be arising as I thought about this still-nebulous book was hope – not where it comes from (to a Christian, that is obvious) but what it really is, its true nature.

The open issue was who it was that should die in that manner. Such a death firmly places an elephant in the room with every survivor, and that aspect would be compounded if the person who died was someone in one of those two mega-relationships with the central character. So I had Patrick and his father come home from a climbing trip in 1976 (that quarter, again) to learn that Patrick’s mother had gone out to the garage that morning, dressed to the nines, and had started up the car and sat in the closed garage until she passed out of this world and into eternity.

When my niece took her own life, I reacted by leaping off the grid. I left the country, and tried to lose my grief in a change of scenery and culture. Of course, the grief followed me. I decided to give Patrick and his father (he had a name by now – Kevin – and a job as an engineer in the auto industry) a similar experience. They would sell their home, Kevin would quit his job, and they would try to start a new life running a climbing shop in the setting inspired by that quarter – at Seneca Rocks in West Virginia. And there Kevin would react to the situation ignited by the lingering questions posed by his wife’s death. He would engage in self-destructive behavior, a self-destructive behavior that I arrived at by remembering a phrase from a Dylan Thomas poem (“… and you, my father, there on that sad height…”) and then taking it absolutely literally. Patrick would be faced with the challenge of trying to heal his father without tearing what was left of his family apart – at the same time that he was falling head-over-heels for his first love.

I could tell you more, but then we’d move into spoiler territory. And besides, we have here all the bits and pieces I needed to start In High Places – a setting, characters, and a conflict for the characters to resolve.

So if you’re casting around for your own idea, but you only have parts of it, take heart. The rest will probably come in time. Until then, do what good writers do: read, make black marks on white paper …

… And remember to count your change.

-- Tom Morrisey hangs out in cyberspace at www.tommorrisey.com.

JK: Revisions

2007-06-11T06:00:00.000-04:00

I’m working on revisions. Ivan Doig once wrote that revisions were his favorite time because that’s when he found out what the story was all about. I’ve always liked that, though before I wrote much, I wondered how he could write an entire book without knowing what it was about.

Now I begin with my three questions of intention, attitude and purpose. Just to give you an idea, with my work in progress here were my original answers: Intention: to tell the story of Emma’s renewal within an 1860s religious colony. Attitude: hopefulness can be nurtured and must be to live a full and meaningful life; and humility and ordinary-ness are honorable virtues. Purpose: engagement with community enriches the soul and contributes to the world even if all desires of one’s heart are never met.

Now that the book is finished and has been been sitting for four weeks, and the editors have reviewed it, here’s how I’ll answer those questions: Intention: to tell the story of Emma’s finding a full life within her religious colony despite the constrictions. Attitude (what I feel deeply about): family comes in all shapes and sizes, and being in service to it brings meaning to our lives. Purpose (how do I hope a reader might be changed): the experts suggest the word “prove” should be in this sentence--I want to prove that hope can be learned; that being a good parent is a worthy goal, that reconciliation in family is not dependent on everyone’s forgiveness, and that a worthy legacy can be left by leading a loving and ordinary life.

Now all I have to do is make that happen in the manuscript and hope someone else will want to read it.

Jane Kirkpatrick is busy on the revisions of A Mending at the Edge, book three; book two, A Tendering in the Storm has just been released. www.jkbooks.com