The Unseen

It wouldn’t surprise you, would it, if I told you my two sons were exceptional? Even if you disagreed – if you’d met them and hadn’t found them special at all, you would at least concede that I would of course think they were, because I am their mom.

You wouldn’t disagree, though.

If you met them, you would find them handsome, kind, bright, creative and engaging. Really. That’s what I always hear from people who go out of their way to tell me. They truly are remarkable.

But what if I said that when I see them, I feel the light that emanates from their souls, I honestly see halos around their heads, I practically hear the angels sing? Well, you might believe me the way Scully believed Mulder ( “I’m sure you thought you saw… “), but you wouldn’t see the halos, and you wouldn’t hear the angels.*

Madeleine L’engle held that we are made like onions, with all the ages we have ever been still layered inside. The infant still lives, as does the two year old, the ten-year-old, the teenager. I believe this is true.

So the reason, I think, that I see these young men so clearly is that I have witnessed the formation of all those layers. Few others — their father does, and my eldest’s mother (I’m his step-mom) — understand the things I know because I was there.

I believe that when, as the Bible predicts, the lion will lie down with the lamb, then at that moment we will all see more clearly past our noses into the souls of each other. We will see one another the way I see my boys and be astonished that we ever passed a human on the street without looking up.

Because we will see what was formerly unseen.

Trust me — this all has to do with books.

Over at Novel Matters, we are having a long conversation about why the novel matters, and I believe the answer is connected to all I’ve just said.

The following video is an excellent interview with Eugene Peterson conducted in 2007 at Point Loma Nazarene University. Toward the end of the video (you can drag the slider to 26:11 if you’re in a hurry), he says something I like:

“Imagination is almost, not quite, the same thing as faith. It connects what we see with what we don’t see, and pulls us through what we see to what we don’t see. ”



When an author writes a novel, she must know her characters, layer by layer. She uses her imagination to blend what she knows of her own story with what she knows of the stories of others — some of them people she knows very well.

When you read a book, you use your imagination to flesh out the story the author has given. She has written down the words, but you supply the pictures. You bring to the page what you know of yourself and those you love.

And somehow, when this collaboration works at its best, the result is that you look at the stranger on the street with new eyes. You glimpse the light between the layers. You hear music.









*Their wives might, or if not yet, I think they will. You should meet the man I’ve come to know these past 29+ years. Light and angel songs.

Creating Our Own Luck

This week, I was cruising Pandora and came across this oft-misquoted comment on the RKO screen test of Fred Astaire, one of my favorite actors:  “Can’t act, slightly bald, also dances.” Six little words that could end an acting career before it begins.  Luckily for Fred, David O. Selznick felt his screen test came off horribly, but Fred’s charm came through all the same and he was willing to take a chance on him. Fred was a tireless perfectionist whose grace and poise made his dancing appear effortless.  He was considered by many to be the greatest popular music dancer of all time, winning multiple Emmys, an Oscar nomination and an honorary academy award.  

When you’ve been writing for a long time without seeing your work in print, success can seem capricious and wholly dependent on sheer luck.  Sure, some people are at the right place at the right time, like Lana Turner who skipped typing class at age sixteen and was discovered by a talent agent at a malt shop on Sunset Boulevard.  But that’s akin to buying the winning lottery ticket, and we all know the odds of that happening.  No, success is a mixture of many variables, as we can see in these highly successful books that almost didn’t see publication. 

• · A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle was rejected by 26 publishers.  They felt it was too different for the 1960s as a science fiction novel featuring a female protagonist.  She happened to meet a guest at her mother’s tea party who knew a publisher and the connection led to a contract. Lucky? You could say so, but she was fully prepared with a polished manuscript when the opportunity presented itself and the right publisher came along. 

• ·Carrie by Stephen King was his fourth completed manuscript and rejected by 30 publishers.  He tossed the manuscript in the garbage, but his wife dug it out and encouraged him to keep trying.  It helps to have someone who knows your writing and really believes in it.  Listen to the people you trust about your writing, and it’s not always family or friends.

•  Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen was rejected 33 times, primarily because anthologies were not selling and the book was a little too positive.  Their persistence paid off, however.  Sometimes genres are cyclical and though the timing may not be right now, they cycle back around.  The creators also tapped into a new market with a fresh idea.

• ·The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter began as self-published.  She began in her 20s but when the book wasn’t published, she printed it herself and gave copies to family and friends.  A publisher saw a copy of the book and was willing to take a chance on it, which led to a whole series of illustrated children’s books. Again, perseverance paid off, but being proactive and taking the steps available to her finally got it into the right hands.

• ·The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank had a tenuous route to publication.  Anne’s father, Otto, was the only family member to survive the war, and he was given Anne’s diary by a family friend who rescued it when they were captured.  Her father hesitated to seek publication for the diary, going so far as to censor some passages that he felt weren’t flattering to family members.  But in the end, he believed that it should be read in its entirety by as many people as possible.  At so many points, this book could have faltered.  But when we have a book of substance about things that move us, we work to get it into the hands of readers.  When we have something authentic to say, people know and we gain credibility which creates impetus.

We need to remind ourselves that if we think some authors make success look easy, it’s not.  We’re not seeing the whole story.  Perseverance, preparedness and professionalism are necessary for every writer with a great idea and a love of story. 

We should continue to educate ourselves and remain teachable.  Learn to accept and consider criticism.  Make and maintain connections with other writers and attend writers’ conferences which may put us in contact with agents, editors and publishers.   In this way, we can create some of our own ‘luck.’ 

Are you sitting at the malt shop like Lana Turner, hoping to be discovered, or are you the tireless hoofer who puts himself out there for a screen test?  How do you create your own 'luck?'

Ding Dong, Persistence Calling

Monday's Roundtable discussion was an attempt to define success as it pertains to writing. The fact that we couldn't nail down one right answer tells us how ambiguous success is in the life of a writer. Is it multiple contracts, large advances, royalties, movie deals, fawning agents, adoring fans, respect from peers, merely having written?

It's all of those things and none of those things.

 

Bonnie said, "Success [as it pertains to writing/art] is probably best measured in persistence." I have to agree with that. I began this writing journey 27 years ago, almost to the day. I dabbled as a writer long before that, but the day I sat down and began to write my first novel is when the writing life really began for me. So far, it's been:

 

                                                                                 

one big roller coaster ride
three steps forward, two steps back

up

and down

high

and low

exhilarating

and discouraging

nothing like I expected it to be
 

Nothing. Like I expected.

 

I wish I had a jarful of the naïve hopefulness I felt as that first novel progressed -- you know, the one that will NEVER be published, thank God. But, oh, the anticipation I had for that novel. I truly believed it would launch my "career" -- you know, the one I'm still waiting for. I could not have foreseen the mountain of rejection letters I'd amass from that one piece of work (double entendre intended). And I'm glad I couldn't. Because if I had, I'd have quit before the lead on my first pencil became dull. And I'm immensely grateful I didn't quit. First, because I'd have never come to know any number of people who have come into my life as a result of my writing, which includes all of you. Second, because the stories I've written have enriched me, and they've enriched others. Regardless of the scale, there's satisfaction in that. Does my portrait of success look the way I'd like it to after 27 years of hard labor? Not hardly. But while I don't have quite a jarful of naïve hopefulness, I still have some. I still hope that my next offering will reach a wider audience, and my next, and my next. That's the beauty of persistence. It's its own reward.

 

We have a saying in my family: "There's honest, and there's brutally honest." And usually when we say it, it's with one eye on my husband, who falls in the second camp. No, wait, he doesn't fall into the second camp, he spearheads it. But I've learned there's real virtue in that. There are no false suppositions that way, and false suppositions can blindside like little else.

 

So I want to be brutally honest with you today. Most of what you envision in the way of success for your writing you will fall short of. J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins are the exception, not the rule. But listen to me. Aim. High. Anyway. Because you have something to say, and you say it in a way no one else can. You will improve with each book you write. You will touch readers. You will make a difference to someone -- even if it's to you alone. I live by the philosophy -- reluctantly, I'll admit (I've got to stay brutally honest) -- that it is my responsibility to use the gifts God has given me, but it is God who gives the increase. I wish I didn't have to include that last phrase. I wish it were all up to me. If it were, we would all have the success of a Rowling or a Collins. Because, shoot, why not??

 

So keep writing. Keep improving. Keep hoping. Persistence is the name of the game.

 

In the end, Madeleine L'Engle got it right:

You must once and for all give up being worried about successes and failures. Don't let that concern you. It's your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes, which are inevitable, and for failures.

 

Round Table: Is Success a Dirty Word?

I'm standing on the precipice, toes curled over the edge.

Below me is failure.

Only it's a little fuzzy what failure looks like, even from this perspective. If I don't earn back what I've invested, is that failure? Is it failure to sell 7 copies (total so far)? Or is it failure to tell a story that quickens the human heart to feel deeply but miss out on acclaim or financial gain?

Wait a minute! I might be peering into success. Stranger things have happened.

Success doesn't dial in much clearer than failure, however. What does success look like? Is it one letter whose writer says the story jump-kicked her back into life? Is it paying off the mortgage? Clamoring publishing companies? Just having written and published the story? Having bled into the story? Having told the best story you can? Being obedient? Is working for success a crime against art?

Madeleine L'Engle quotes one of Chekov's letters about success in Walking on Water:

You must once and for all give up being worried about successes and failures. Don't let that concern you. It's your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes, which are inevitable, and for failures.

Can we be artists and good business-people? Is this a contradiction? Was Madeleine L'Engle living in such a different time and place that her words have grown cold and empty? Or has she mined for us the truth of the matter? I'm dying to hear what you all have to say.

These are good questions, Patti. I'm going to be transparent, because I know I can be with each other and our readers. I appreciate Madeleine L'Engle's quote, but I'm far, far from being in that place. Success to me feels like something more measurable ... and maybe that's because I've had so little to measure when it comes to my writing. At least, in the monetary sense. If that's my only benchmark then I'd have to say, no, I've not experienced success. Thankfully, I can say, for me, monetary gain is only part of being a successful writer. So while I haven't achieved what I'd like to achieve monetarily, I do consider my novels a success when I receive cards or emails from readers telling me how one of my books has touched them or uplifted them or made them think. The one that really blew me away was the email I received from a reader in South Africa who found my book in her library in Zulu country. Blew me away. And what was really funny was that I have been there! Ultimately, reaching readers is why I write --- but I have to be honest and say I'd like to be able to contribute more to our income as well. More income would mean I'm reaching more readers --- which is what I so desire. So it's like this circle game. I guess they really go hand in hand.

I hear Patti’s pain. If there is a metric for success – either book sale figures, or Amazon sales rankings, or some other way of measurement, what does a serious author do when those metrics seem lacking?

And let’s back up with one element of that question. What is “a serious author”?

Is it the person who works at writing full time? Is it the person who takes classes and tries to perfect the craft?  Is it the writer who has had contracts in the past (regardless of present contract status)?

Sorry, I’ve got a whole lot more questions than answers.

I guess I tend to focus on the things that make me feel successful - wonder when I became an optimist? But what does it for me are the letters. Some of you have sent letters and emails that have blessed me tremendously, and made me feel that I could do without the money (that's clearly the case!). I'm not much in for fame, either. 

It may not help me get my writing done day to day, but I really think success is a day well lived. And what that means has so much to do with the Lord's leading, watching his gaze to discern the next thing. 

 Sorry, not sure why Blogger won't reduce my photo any smaller. Sheesh, I tried.
Many writers (as agents/publishers must) measure success by sales figures and by the list of books the writer has published. There's nothing wrong with this, but it will never be my measure because I have a 'day job' which demands much of my time.  Each writer has to decide what success looks like and it changes as you progress along your writing journey. I  used to think I was successful when I completed a manuscript that I felt confident about submitting.  Then I felt successful when I received a contract or secured an agent. All of these are certainly benchmarks but what good is my writing if it doesn't impact readers?  When I hear from a reader that a character or passage resonated with her, I know I have succeeded in the most important area.


Success is probably best measured in persistence. In the end, we all know what success means as a writer: make a living, have a loyal following of readers (of whatever size, but growing), and signing publishing contracts that will see you well into the future. That's a modest minimum for success. But to achieve that in publishing takes more persistence than most other work (with the exception of other arts: music, acting, etc.). If you put on a suit and went to work everyday for 25 years and never got paid your family would have you committed. But this is art. And art has it's own (double) standards.

Art exists because we'd die without beauty. So, artists persist in creating beauty--whatever that means to each artist--and the one who persists is the one who succeeds. Press on into your success however you measure it. Don't give up.

Being a Living Mystery

I learned a new word yesterday from a reader commenting on Latayne's post.  Prevenient grace. I guess it's more of a term than a word. Anywho, it's a term for the many ways that God's grace comes into our lives before we come to know Him. He pursues us.  He initiates the relationship when we're powerless to do so.  Yowza, I love it! 

I recognized that He did this for us, I just didn't know the terminology for it. If we could look back at the orchestration that led to 'meeting' God, it would blind us with tears. He didn't have to hit us over the head with His love or write it in the sky.

I have heard Latayne's topic discussed among writers who are confused about the degree of directness they should use.  They have a great story that doesn't fit the mold.  Perhaps it's allegory or science fiction/fantasy. As Christian writers, are we obligated to explain?  This dilemma may also be true in our everyday lives, especially for those of us who work in public education or for the government and walk a fine line in displaying our Christianity. We learn to project Christ on a more subtle level as opportunities arise.   Listen to this quote by Cardinal Suhard in Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water:

"To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery.  It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist."

 I know it is a concern among Christian publishers that their books leave no doubt as to being Christ-centered.  They are charged with proclaiming Christ and take it very seriously.  This, of course, is also the goal of Christian authors.  Some editors have voiced that not all readers 'get it' when it comes to implied faith and want a more overt application.

Knowing this, does it change the types of stories you choose to write? We'd love to hear from you.

The Bridge of Words

One of my favorite books for contemplation is Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle. When I'm working, I tend to focus downward and inward - at my keyboard, my notes, my reference books, my experiences. Her thoughts draw my sight upward and outward, beyond my narrow boundaries. I am especially encouraged to know that after she was published, she experienced periods of disillusionment and rejection. These two bad boys can be paralyzing to creativity. They are a normal part of the process we all go through in our writing. So what is it that drives us to keep going when we encounter them? Ms. L'Engle would say that part of the driving force is the desire to communicate. All artists want to communicate, be they writers, painters, sculptors or composers. We want our works to be seen, read, heard and experienced to have life breathed into them.

"Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work had been stillborn." She goes on to affirm the vast importance of the reader, that without readers our stories will never truly live. Contrary to watching TV, where we are a passive audience, the reader partners as creator with the written word - imagining, hearing, and visualizing the story. "The author and the reader 'know' each other; they meet on the bridge of words."

The tangible elements of story such as a character's physical description, the way his shoes pinch, or the scent of flowers at his father's funeral are easier to communicate than his character and motives. He may not always react in expected ways. If we are careless or fail to communicate how we feel about these things, we break that tenuous bond between creators. It is imperative that we work diligently to perfect our art in order that the message is clear, yet winsome and not heavy-handed or contrived. The bridges we build lead to more than an afternoon's distraction. They serve an eternal, life-giving purpose.

In another quote, she states, "Jesus was not a theologian. He was God who told stories." When Jesus told parables, the masses (as 'reader-hearers') became creators, too. Jesus was able to communicate great truths by meeting them on the bridge of words. In actively listening and visualizing, they took steps toward him to cross the bridge. When we partner with Christ to share his truths through story, he empowers us. We become bridge builders.

God chooses to use us to communicate through art to people who are willing to meet us on the bridge. Who are we to be chosen, we may ask? I leave you with one last quote:
"In a very real sense not one of us is qualified...If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there's no danger that we will confuse God's work with our own, or God's glory with our own."

Do you think of yourself as a bridge-builder and how does that impact your writing and ability to meet discouragement?

Back to the Chair

Sharon's post on Wednesday resonated with me, and judging by the comments, I'm not alone. It's difficult to keep up a level of enthusiasm and confidence in your skills when you're being stared down by a blank page.

At times like this when I'm struggling with BIC. (Butt In Chair) I feel my desire to write expiring. It's such a familiar feeling. Not so long ago, before I was published, it was my constant companion, and I was better at dealing with it. I had unbridled hope but no expectations. I had a calling, a love of story, a character crush. I was 'fed' by the act of writing. Satisfied and satiated. So...it's temporary, I know. And when I'm in need of a break or a distraction that leads back to the chair, I can usually count on:

1. Closet cleaning: My daughter moved to a more permanent college-living arrangement two years ago, and her old closet space is just waiting for utilization. As Sharon pointed out, tackling a job that doesn't take a lot of brain power can free your mind to work on plot issues or twists. To quote Agatha Christie, "The best time to plan a book is while you're doing the dishes" and I quite agree with her.
2. Favorite movies: I put on a movie I love that is so familiar I can get other things done and save my undivided attention for the best parts. Usually, I choose either The Philadelphia Story, What's Up, Doc, Casablanca or Dirty, Rotten Scoundrels. Fun stories. Great characterization. The stuff that feeds my imagination and stirs the pot of ideas.
3. Cooking: Homemade soup, cobblers and chicken pot pies. Apple butter. Homemade marinara with roasted roma tomatoes. Comfort food. I'm not saying every dish is a winner, but the act of combining the ingredients and playing with my options reminds me how gratifying it is to create and to take a chance on a new twist.
4. Good books: This may be a book from my TBR pile (just finished Snow Falling on Cedars) or a favorite read that I skim for my favorite parts. Ray Bradbury's Green Shadows, White Whale is one such book. What a storyteller! Rubbing cosmic elbows with writers through their thoughts and words is bound to pay off, isn't it?
5. Reading about writers: Author biographies or essays about their faith can be very inspiring. I have two essay collections that challenge me to think: Shouts and Whispers (Wm. B. Eerdmans Pub.) and Going on Faith (Marlowe & Co.)
6. Be-ing time: I take my journal to the canyon rim or the American River and unravel to the tune of rippling water and birdsong (while keeping a nervous eye out for four-legged predators). Madeleine L'Engle said in Walking on Water, "...take time away from busyness, time to be. I've long since stopped feeling guilty for taking being time. It's something we all need for our spiritual health, and often we don't take enough of it." In the long run, being is more important (& productive) than doing.
7. Keeping friends: I cherish my writer friends at times of dryness. They tell me it's only a temporary state of affairs. Worry and stress constrict the flow of creative juices, they remind me. The sluggish economy works to discourage me. Above all, stay true until the day that I feel released, not simply discouraged.

In Walking on Water, Ms. L'Engle shares a story about a clockmaker who was asked to repair broken clocks and watches. Many had been abandoned by their owners, and he could only repair the ones which had been kept wound because they were the only ones that could remember how to keep time. "So we must daily keep things wound: that is we must pray when prayer seems dry as dust; we must write when we are physically tired, when our hearts are heavy, when our bodies are in pain." Keeping things wound, building in memory - that's what BIC is really all about.

Have I missed anything? What helps you in times of dryness or discouragement? We'd love to hear from you.

Paint the Starry Nights

I am so proud of you.

On Monday, Eric Wilson bravely allowed us to run a post he'd first published on his own blog. I say "bravely" because evidently (I'm scared to look) his post has drawn fire in other parts of the blogosphere. Why a post titled - in all caps - IS IT TIME FOR CHRISTIAN FICTION TO DIE? - should rile up the troops is beyond me, but Eric consented to give you, our readers at Novel Matters, a chance to take a few shots of your own. If you desired.

You didn't.

I don't mean for a moment that you would not be free to disagree with anything he or any of us had to say at any time. But your comments showed that you had read his words in the spirit in which they were offered, and I loved the thoughtful, hospitable discussion that followed.

Then on Wednesday, Latayne had the un-enviable task of following Eric's post, and she did a remarkable job of it with a title that was only less controversial among those who had never read Harrison Bergeron. She wanted to know: The writers who take breathtaking risks in hopes of writing words that will melt the stars - do these writers offend those who simply write good stories, who may, by setting their sights lower, succeed more readily?

Are we presumptuous? Hoity-toity? Maybe not. Reckless? Oh, let's hope we are.

What Would You Take?

This weekend, my husband and I had the unsettling experience of coming home from a weekend in the Bay Area to find a huge grass fire in our brittle, dry foothill community and that an evacuation was in effect. We were grateful that our home was not affected and that the evacuation had been cancelled for our section of town, but I naturally began to take stock of what I would pile into the car in such an evacuation, if I had the time. Pets (need another cat carrier!), baby books & photos, important papers, heirlooms, computer, flashdrive, WIP...the list goes on.

If I had only a smidgen of room left in our vehicle, what three writing books would I take? What are the three books I couldn't do without (not including favorite fiction)? There were many that I would hate to lose, but I finally narrowed it down to these three:

1. 100,000 Baby Names by Bruce Lansky. Most useful to me is the listing of popular names by decade, but it has many other listings and, well, 100,000 names to chose from for my characters.

2. The Synonym Finder by J.I. Rodale. It is extemely comprehensive, written in a dictionary style, and the thesaurus that always delivers. When asked what stumped him in the rewrite of A Farewell to Arms, Hemingway answered, "Getting the words right." I wonder what thesaurus he used? Hm...

3. Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle. "And for each one of us there is a special gift, the way in which we may best serve and please the Lord whose love is so overflowing." (page 70). Her insights inspire and refresh me in times of discouragement by reminding me that my art is a gift from God and that He will equip me to use it.

So, now that the fire planes are just a hum in the distance, I think I will keep these three books stacked beside my desk within easy reach, just in case - at least until fire season is over.

What are the three most helpful books that you would stack by the door in the event of a quick getaway?