I'm a little tired. A little sick. And a lot busy.
I'm leaving today for Cornerstone Music Festival 2009 to promote and sell my book. It's a huge financial risk with a scary lack of prospects on return. I just drove all the way out to my friend Steve's in Maryland for his wedding last week - and now I'm getting ready to drive from Colorado back to Illinois again. All while sick and stressed.
Ten years from now I'm going to look back at this trip and think "wow, that was awesome! I had such a great adventure!" but right now I'd really like your prayers :)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sequential
So, the book has been out for about two and a half weeks now, and life is starting to get back to normal. I have a lot of events and stuff still left to do, but I feel like a real person again. Less exhausted and "out-of-body".
I have a lot of work to get done on the sequel before the first week of June. At that point my stuff is going to be pitched to see if the sequel is getting published. I'm optimistic, but with the PW review, even if Strang doesn't want the book I'm certain someone will.
The biggest challenge right now is making sure that the sequel has all the same elements that people liked about the first book. I have a pretty good idea about what I think those things are, but I have also been talking to readers. It's always exciting for me to find out what worked about the first book that people would like to see more of, so this is a very cool time for me.
Please comment if you have any thoughts about what you liked about the first book elements that you would like to see carried through.
I have a lot of work to get done on the sequel before the first week of June. At that point my stuff is going to be pitched to see if the sequel is getting published. I'm optimistic, but with the PW review, even if Strang doesn't want the book I'm certain someone will.
The biggest challenge right now is making sure that the sequel has all the same elements that people liked about the first book. I have a pretty good idea about what I think those things are, but I have also been talking to readers. It's always exciting for me to find out what worked about the first book that people would like to see more of, so this is a very cool time for me.
Please comment if you have any thoughts about what you liked about the first book elements that you would like to see carried through.
Monday, May 18, 2009
What immortal hand or eye?
It's been more than ten days since my book came out, and I'm still not sure it's real.
I went to Colorado Christian Writer's Conference this last week and won an award for showing great promise. I spoke to agents and authors alike who told me that I have a bright future ahead of me. All so strange.
I've sold copies of the book to family members and strangers alike. Today I did a book signing at the bookstore whose coffee shop I wrote most of the book in. We sold out the entire store's stock in just under three hours.
It's weird to think that anyone would buy a book I wrote. Stranger still to think they would actually read it. When you're writing a book you get to play god for that tiny universe, but then it goes to print and it's a bit like letting a wild tiger off its leash. It's free now. The story belongs to the world - to love or forget.
I was told this last week that getting published is like winning the lottery, the odds are so astronomical; even with talent factored in. Of all the fierce creatures of the imagination, how is it that mine is the one to be unleashed? But there it is: my tiger, unleashed upon the world.
I wonder: where is my tiger tonight?
I went to Colorado Christian Writer's Conference this last week and won an award for showing great promise. I spoke to agents and authors alike who told me that I have a bright future ahead of me. All so strange.
I've sold copies of the book to family members and strangers alike. Today I did a book signing at the bookstore whose coffee shop I wrote most of the book in. We sold out the entire store's stock in just under three hours.
It's weird to think that anyone would buy a book I wrote. Stranger still to think they would actually read it. When you're writing a book you get to play god for that tiny universe, but then it goes to print and it's a bit like letting a wild tiger off its leash. It's free now. The story belongs to the world - to love or forget.
I was told this last week that getting published is like winning the lottery, the odds are so astronomical; even with talent factored in. Of all the fierce creatures of the imagination, how is it that mine is the one to be unleashed? But there it is: my tiger, unleashed upon the world.
I wonder: where is my tiger tonight?
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Love and Marriage and Publishing
Having a book released on shelves is a big deal. But scary. Nerve wracking. Intense.
It's not that I'm afraid that people will think the book is bad, or that it won't sell. Yes, I have considered those things, and they do worry me, but those things can be brushed aside for a while. The trouble is what I've seen while running a camera.
Some of you may know that I've done some professional wedding videography. As a result I have had a birds-eye view of everything that happens. And it is not at all uncommon for people to be seriously neurotic before the big service begins. It's not so much that you're scared (though there must be some fear, I'm certain), you are probably even giddy with joy. No, you are nervous because you know that in another twenty minutes you will filing your income tax jointly, sharing everything (including the things you don't want to share... or have shared with you) and becoming 'one flesh'.
In other words: Everything you know about your life, and your world, is about to change.
It's a happy day. A day of celebration. But after today you start a new life. Exciting? Yes. Familiar? No. You're off the map, below the radar, you've taken the red pill and you're going to find out just how deep the rabbit hole goes - and there really isn't any going back.
I noticed a funny phenomenon while shooting weddings: Brides who are nervous wrecks until two minutes before the ceremony, then calm. And grooms who are cool and collected until the same final minutes - at which point, they usually freak.
Needing to get the approach shots of the bride, I am almost always standing next to the groom when the panic sets in, and I have always offered these words: "You're only ever as married as you are in your heart. Do you love her?" the unquestioning 'yes'. "Then go out there and put a ring on her finger."
If there is one thing I have learned through all of this, it is that you are only ever as published as they are in your heart. I love what I do. Now it's just time to seize the brass ring.
It's not that I'm afraid that people will think the book is bad, or that it won't sell. Yes, I have considered those things, and they do worry me, but those things can be brushed aside for a while. The trouble is what I've seen while running a camera.
Some of you may know that I've done some professional wedding videography. As a result I have had a birds-eye view of everything that happens. And it is not at all uncommon for people to be seriously neurotic before the big service begins. It's not so much that you're scared (though there must be some fear, I'm certain), you are probably even giddy with joy. No, you are nervous because you know that in another twenty minutes you will filing your income tax jointly, sharing everything (including the things you don't want to share... or have shared with you) and becoming 'one flesh'.
In other words: Everything you know about your life, and your world, is about to change.
It's a happy day. A day of celebration. But after today you start a new life. Exciting? Yes. Familiar? No. You're off the map, below the radar, you've taken the red pill and you're going to find out just how deep the rabbit hole goes - and there really isn't any going back.
I noticed a funny phenomenon while shooting weddings: Brides who are nervous wrecks until two minutes before the ceremony, then calm. And grooms who are cool and collected until the same final minutes - at which point, they usually freak.
Needing to get the approach shots of the bride, I am almost always standing next to the groom when the panic sets in, and I have always offered these words: "You're only ever as married as you are in your heart. Do you love her?" the unquestioning 'yes'. "Then go out there and put a ring on her finger."
If there is one thing I have learned through all of this, it is that you are only ever as published as they are in your heart. I love what I do. Now it's just time to seize the brass ring.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Sh'ma Yisrael
For those of you who know me know that I do not like much religious music. Too often music is confused for worship (which simply means: to bring worth to). And like any form of highly intimate connection, I don't want to watch it in public.
It's just a thing. I'm certain I'm being ridiculous.
However, I've been going to my brother's church for a while now, and they have a weekly tradition that I'm growing very fond of.
In keeping with the Jewish tradition, every Friday night (the regular service night) they blow the Shofar (ram's horn) and sing the Sh'ma Yisrael. It is a traditional Jewish prayer/song and every week it gives me chills.
It started at Christmas when everyone was at my home, sitting in a circle, and we completed the prayer. My brother laughed and said that he had the sudden urge to sing the Sh'ma (as they do after a circled prayer at his church), and my niece, Allanna, having heard the words, began to sing.
Allanna is three. And adorable. She and her brother are included in the dedication of my book. She, at three, knows and sings the Sh'ma - with perfect pitch. Out of everything that happened that night I was most touched by that moment.
I have since seen her at home, coloring in a coloring book, singing to herself. Again, the Sh'ma.
This week I heard a story of a Jewish family that sang the Sh'ma every Friday night. The wife would hold their son, and the husband, hand on his child's head, would recite the ancient prayer. As their son grew taller it became harder to hold him - and as time went on he began to stand next to his mother (her arm around him) as his father would put his hand on his son's head.
Eventually the son grew so tall that he could not be held, and the father was too short to touch his head, but still they performed the prayer every Friday night.
Thinking of small children and this ancient prayer touch me in a place deeper than words can describe.
I am currently learning the Sh'ma, myself. Someday I hope to rock my children to sleep while singing the Sh'ma to them. To see my own children learn and sing the words that were uttered by so many martyrs before their deaths. A sweet sentiment that I long, with every ounce of my heart, body, mind, and soul, to share with my family someday.
The thought of my own daughter singing that prayer is the stuff that makes me want a family of my own more than anything else.
It's just a thing. I'm certain I'm being ridiculous.
However, I've been going to my brother's church for a while now, and they have a weekly tradition that I'm growing very fond of.
In keeping with the Jewish tradition, every Friday night (the regular service night) they blow the Shofar (ram's horn) and sing the Sh'ma Yisrael. It is a traditional Jewish prayer/song and every week it gives me chills.
It started at Christmas when everyone was at my home, sitting in a circle, and we completed the prayer. My brother laughed and said that he had the sudden urge to sing the Sh'ma (as they do after a circled prayer at his church), and my niece, Allanna, having heard the words, began to sing.
Allanna is three. And adorable. She and her brother are included in the dedication of my book. She, at three, knows and sings the Sh'ma - with perfect pitch. Out of everything that happened that night I was most touched by that moment.
I have since seen her at home, coloring in a coloring book, singing to herself. Again, the Sh'ma.
Sh'ma Yis'ra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.
(Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.)
Barukh sheim k'vod malkhuto l'olam va'ed.
(Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever.)
This week I heard a story of a Jewish family that sang the Sh'ma every Friday night. The wife would hold their son, and the husband, hand on his child's head, would recite the ancient prayer. As their son grew taller it became harder to hold him - and as time went on he began to stand next to his mother (her arm around him) as his father would put his hand on his son's head.
Eventually the son grew so tall that he could not be held, and the father was too short to touch his head, but still they performed the prayer every Friday night.
Thinking of small children and this ancient prayer touch me in a place deeper than words can describe.
I am currently learning the Sh'ma, myself. Someday I hope to rock my children to sleep while singing the Sh'ma to them. To see my own children learn and sing the words that were uttered by so many martyrs before their deaths. A sweet sentiment that I long, with every ounce of my heart, body, mind, and soul, to share with my family someday.
The thought of my own daughter singing that prayer is the stuff that makes me want a family of my own more than anything else.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Exciting times
Just got off the phone with another reporter. This will make the fourth paper running a story on me. And if this is big enough for these local markets, then it's probably time to start looking at bigger markets for news coverage.
Yesterday morning started with an email with some unofficial news that I am not fully at liberty to share - but bookstores are picking up my book. Quite a few of them, apparently. There are some very good signs in regard to this book so far. It's probably a result of the PW review I got. Which - how did that happen to me, again?
I was also notified about a web interview that has been requested with me. That, and I am attending Cornerstone music festival in June/July and was going to need 1,000 books shipped there for the event - which was going to be expensive.
Turns out the books are printed in Peoria Illinois, just up the road from Bushnell, which is where the festival is. That means no shipping cost. Not like we were looking at, at least. How is my luck this good?
Then I went to the dentist and was told that my tooth dead, that it has abscessed and exploded once already, will probably do it again, and that I need root canal, an implant, and several fillings. All to the tune of $6,000+ dollars.
That's when your luck looks pretty bad.
Then I got a call from my dad. He'd been to a very unhelpful and depressing job fair. No good job news. But he had been interviewed by one of the papers that was there (900 people, and they talked to my dad?) so my dad suggested they do an article on me. The reporter gave him a business card, and that's who I just called.
While I was on the phone with my dad telling me to call this person he also got a package in the mail. It was for me. It was my advance copy of the book.
I hung up on my dad and drove at an unsafe speed to my parent's house where I stared - out of body - at my very first copy of the book. Held it in my hands. Read the pages. Pinched myself.
What the HECK is going on?
All these doors keep opening. All these good things keep happening. The only option I'm really seeing is that through all the terrible stuff that's going on in the world, God has chosen to bless this.
But why me? I don't deserve this kind of favor. There are better writers out there who have been waiting YEARS for the chance to even get a book on shelves, much less have the chances that I've gotten.
It's not fair.
To all you real writers out there that deserve this more than I do - I'm sorry.
And so, for now, I owe it to all those who are still trying to make the most of what I've been given. Not to squander what so many would die to have a shot at.
Humility doesn't always come easy to me, but this is one of those times when I can't help but feel unjustified favor.
Yesterday morning started with an email with some unofficial news that I am not fully at liberty to share - but bookstores are picking up my book. Quite a few of them, apparently. There are some very good signs in regard to this book so far. It's probably a result of the PW review I got. Which - how did that happen to me, again?
I was also notified about a web interview that has been requested with me. That, and I am attending Cornerstone music festival in June/July and was going to need 1,000 books shipped there for the event - which was going to be expensive.
Turns out the books are printed in Peoria Illinois, just up the road from Bushnell, which is where the festival is. That means no shipping cost. Not like we were looking at, at least. How is my luck this good?
Then I went to the dentist and was told that my tooth dead, that it has abscessed and exploded once already, will probably do it again, and that I need root canal, an implant, and several fillings. All to the tune of $6,000+ dollars.
That's when your luck looks pretty bad.
Then I got a call from my dad. He'd been to a very unhelpful and depressing job fair. No good job news. But he had been interviewed by one of the papers that was there (900 people, and they talked to my dad?) so my dad suggested they do an article on me. The reporter gave him a business card, and that's who I just called.
While I was on the phone with my dad telling me to call this person he also got a package in the mail. It was for me. It was my advance copy of the book.
I hung up on my dad and drove at an unsafe speed to my parent's house where I stared - out of body - at my very first copy of the book. Held it in my hands. Read the pages. Pinched myself.
What the HECK is going on?
All these doors keep opening. All these good things keep happening. The only option I'm really seeing is that through all the terrible stuff that's going on in the world, God has chosen to bless this.
But why me? I don't deserve this kind of favor. There are better writers out there who have been waiting YEARS for the chance to even get a book on shelves, much less have the chances that I've gotten.
It's not fair.
To all you real writers out there that deserve this more than I do - I'm sorry.
And so, for now, I owe it to all those who are still trying to make the most of what I've been given. Not to squander what so many would die to have a shot at.
Humility doesn't always come easy to me, but this is one of those times when I can't help but feel unjustified favor.
Friday, April 17, 2009
As good as shoplifting...
I'm kind of a thrill junkie. This is starting to become apparent to me.
Right now I'm trying to start buzz about my book. As a result I'm trying to get word out - not just to the masses, but to the people who will actually read my book.
So there I was, in the public library. I was going to talk to an old friend of mine who is now a librarian, and I had a stack of seriously awesome promotional bookmarks in my hand. Sadly the friend was not there, and so I could not use them to get him excited about the book and hopefully set something up with the library. I was about to leave when I looked up and saw a Ted Dekker novel sitting on the shelf.
I thought to myself: "Self, I really wish I could give a bookmark to the person who checks that book out." They're exactly the kind of person who will like my book. Maybe I could just stand here until someone checks it out, and hand them a bookmark. Right?
Then I had another thought: if I put the bookmark in the book, then the person who checks it out will have a bookmark. Laser-guided, targeted marketing genius!
But I wasn't certain that was something I was allowed to do. So I surreptitiously walked over to the book and hid a bookmark in its pages, hoping no one saw. It was a bit thrilling. So I did it again with another book. And then I was hooked.
I managed to unload a stack of about 60 bookmarks in targeted novels all over the library. And then I did it again at another library the next day, and started hitting all the libraries in town. And yesterday I went into the last library in town.
I went in with a stack of about 150 bookmarks, and went to work in one of the most open library environments I've ever seen. Getting caught was a real possibility! So I kept working as quickly and quietly as possible, hiding bookmarks in the pages of assorted thrillers.
And then I had an idea. All the new releases and wildly popular books were located at the front of the library. If I put bookmarks in those they would be sure to get circulation, right? So I took the rest of my marketing ammo up front and went for the books.
Most awesome of all was the librarian working on a computer cart two feet from me. Occasionally she would look my way, so I had to be super careful.
It was AWESOME. A huge thrill. Like Wynona Rider shoplifting things she had more than enough money for - just for the thrill.
I felt like Captain Mal Reynolds pulling off the train job. I was pulling off my caper right under the noses of Alliance troops, and that was the best part of all: it made it that much more fun!
When I stop and consider, the whole thing is pretty ridiculous. Chances are good that if I just asked they would let me do it. But what's the fun in that?
Right now I'm trying to start buzz about my book. As a result I'm trying to get word out - not just to the masses, but to the people who will actually read my book.
So there I was, in the public library. I was going to talk to an old friend of mine who is now a librarian, and I had a stack of seriously awesome promotional bookmarks in my hand. Sadly the friend was not there, and so I could not use them to get him excited about the book and hopefully set something up with the library. I was about to leave when I looked up and saw a Ted Dekker novel sitting on the shelf.
I thought to myself: "Self, I really wish I could give a bookmark to the person who checks that book out." They're exactly the kind of person who will like my book. Maybe I could just stand here until someone checks it out, and hand them a bookmark. Right?
Then I had another thought: if I put the bookmark in the book, then the person who checks it out will have a bookmark. Laser-guided, targeted marketing genius!
But I wasn't certain that was something I was allowed to do. So I surreptitiously walked over to the book and hid a bookmark in its pages, hoping no one saw. It was a bit thrilling. So I did it again with another book. And then I was hooked.
I managed to unload a stack of about 60 bookmarks in targeted novels all over the library. And then I did it again at another library the next day, and started hitting all the libraries in town. And yesterday I went into the last library in town.
I went in with a stack of about 150 bookmarks, and went to work in one of the most open library environments I've ever seen. Getting caught was a real possibility! So I kept working as quickly and quietly as possible, hiding bookmarks in the pages of assorted thrillers.
And then I had an idea. All the new releases and wildly popular books were located at the front of the library. If I put bookmarks in those they would be sure to get circulation, right? So I took the rest of my marketing ammo up front and went for the books.
Most awesome of all was the librarian working on a computer cart two feet from me. Occasionally she would look my way, so I had to be super careful.
It was AWESOME. A huge thrill. Like Wynona Rider shoplifting things she had more than enough money for - just for the thrill.
I felt like Captain Mal Reynolds pulling off the train job. I was pulling off my caper right under the noses of Alliance troops, and that was the best part of all: it made it that much more fun!
When I stop and consider, the whole thing is pretty ridiculous. Chances are good that if I just asked they would let me do it. But what's the fun in that?
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