In January the thought came to me that it was time for my books, The You-Song and Daughter of Jerusalem, to have a new publisher–one who could see their potential to bless. Not more than two days later, without me even bringing up the subject, my daughter, Meghan Williams, began telling me about LaShawn Dobbs of Divine Purpose Publishing! Within a week I had spoken with LaShawn, felt her enthusiasm, and decided to move forward with her.
LaShawn’s loving care of my “babies” has been everything I could have hoped for. As a result, not only are they now out in meticulously edited new editions and at a more reasonable price, but I’m also having the opportunity to share them on blog sites and speak about them in internet radio interviews. What a great opportunity for them to reach the audiences for whom they were written!
Once again I’m getting to read “Daughter of Jerusalem” to an enthusiastic group of listeners–this time to an interfaith group at a nearby assisted-living complex. I can’t think of a happier way to spend three Monday mornings. I love seeing their faces as they respond to a first hearing of this story that is now so familiar to me. It makes it new again.
I’ve been told authors generally want little or nothing to do with their books once they’ve been published. But somehow I don’t share that feeling. Perhaps it’s because my books have always felt more like a gift that came to me rather than a creative act of my own. I see the Father’s hand on every page. And that never gets old.
9/11–a date that those of us who lived through it will never forget. We recall not only the havoc wreaked by those errant planes, but also precisely what we were doing on that day and how the crisis impacted it.
History has left a number of such tracks on the path of my life. I was a student in Germany at the time the Berlin wall was built. It faced me with the need to decide whether to return home early, as Mom had suggested via long distance telephone, in case we were on the brink of a war. Acute fear was finally faced down through prayer, and I will always be glad that I stayed through that summer.
At the time of the Cuban missile crisis, my beloved Steve was a West Point cadet, and again a war with the Soviet Union seemed a sobering possibility. In fact, there had been talk of graduating his class early so they would be prepared to fight in it. The removal of those missiles was good news to all Americans, but to me it was cause for hallelujahs.
The following year, the principal of the high school where I was teaching announced the somber news of Pres. Kennedy’s assassination. Some of my students were in tears. All I could think of to say to them was how blessed we were to live in a country where this tragedy would be followed by an orderly transfer of power.
On 9/11 I was also in a school, an elementary school this time. As my pupil and I emerged into the library after our lesson, we saw teachers viewing a huge cloud of smoke on the television screen. “It’s the Pentagon,” one of them told me. It took only a moment for the full implication of that to dawn on me. The tennis game scheduled for later that morning ended before it began. All we wanted to do was go home and pray.
When history steps in and leaves these tracks on our lives, it’s still the best response I can think of.
Last month I was invited to read Daughter of Jerusalem aloud to patients and assisted-living residents at Peace Haven. What a joy to see them experience Mara’s story for the very first time! This child of my imagination has become such an old friend to me that it was refreshing and renewing to catch a glimpse of her through the eyes of others.
The experience also gave me further confirmation that the book’s brevity can actually be an asset rather than a liability. Had it been a full-length novel, it would never have been feasible to present it in the allotted four one-hour evening segments, which included question-and-answer time.
During the summer months, St. Louisans do not normally choose to spend much time outdoors–at least not during the day. Heat and humidity add up to a big “No thanks!” But so far this summer has been the exception. Many nights have brought the temperatures down below 60 degrees, and the mornings that follow those nights are to me sheer heaven.
Not only has this enhanced my early morning walks. It’s also lured me out onto the deck for my quiet time. What makes it worth lugging a table out there? What is it about the great outdoors that brings such inspiration? Towering trees, the caress of a cool breeze, cloud puffs floating across a blue sky–somehow these lead us into the presence of One who is both infinitely powerful and boundlessly good. The great outdoors becomes a gentle reminder that we are dearly loved.
Good books have a wonderful way of sparking our interest in people we’ve known of but never really known. I’ve lived in New York near Grant’s Tomb and now live in St. Louis near Grant’s Farm. I knew Grant was the general most responsible for winning the Civil War and later President–though for me he was always obscured by the shadow of Lincoln.
Then along came Jean Edward Smith’s remarkable biography. After reading it, I am now–in spite of his habit of smoking cigars–an enthusiastic fan of Ulysses S. Grant. I actually enjoyed reading the war accounts, in which Grant’s brilliance and resourcefulness eclipsed even the appalling casualties. And I was delighted to learn that he shared my abhorrence of war, telling Bismarck, “I never went into the army without regret and never retired without pleasure.” During his presidency, he did everything in his power to keep the peace and held to his principles under intense political pressure. Yes, thanks to Smith, Grant is now among my heroes.
You may not have heard of Kirkus. Until several months ago, neither had I. But among publishers and booksellers they have been well respected since the 1930s for their intelligent, unbiased book reviews. A fee is charged for these reviews, but there is no guarantee that they will be favorable. Kirkus’s reputation rests on their being honest.
I had been undecided as to whether to submit my books to them for a review. It seemed expensive and a bit daunting. But this afternoon I took the plunge, encouraged perhaps by a discount they were offering this week. After a seven-to-nine-week waiting period, I should be hearing from them. If nothing else, the results will provide a learning experience. But, of course, I can’t help hoping for more.
Well, I have spent about 6 weeks working with Professor Horner’s Bible-reading system, and the results have been mixed. I very much like his idea of reading from different books of the Bible on the same day. It enables me to see how amazingly their ideas coincide in spite of the many intervening years and also how they developed over the centuries.
However, ten chapters a day has been difficult to keep up, and the skipping around between the Old and New Testaments has proved rather confusing. in addition, his plan requires reading some books much more frequently than others.
So I have come up with a simpler plan which I think will work better for me: a chapter each from Genesis-Deuteronomy, Joshua-Esther, Job-Solomon’s Song, Isaiah-Malachi, Matthew-Acts, and Romans-Revelation, in that order. I’ve already started making the transition, but I am still grateful to Professor Horner for launching me on this inspiring journey.
Writing a book, for me at least, seems far less difficult and much more fun than promoting one. Nevertheless, a dutiful, concerted effort to promote my books began in January. Then, after several months of researching children’s book websites and making vain attempts to contact bloggers who write reviews of books for early and middle grade readers, I was asked to resume some work at church which left me little time for such a quest. All I could do was entrust my books to Him who inspired them. Continue reading
Is there anything more joy-inspiring than being with children at play? We’re talking about children in a state of sheer, uninhibited delight in the hi-jinks of the present moment. Well, after a fairly long hiatus, I got to experience it yesterday.
A dear cousin now living abroad arrived at our door with the young family he’d attained since our last visit. Other family members gathered, and our playroom soon came alive! Our grandson, home from college, allowed his inner child free rein, and the next thing we knew the two munchkins were climbing onto his back, performing somersaults with him, and retreating in squealing mock terror from the monster his dramatic talents brought to life.
Did this disrupt our visit with their parents? Far from it. It brought the whole purpose of the visit into lively focus, and when the visit ended (sooner than we’d have liked it to) it left me feeling buoyantly aglow.