by jphilo | Jun 20, 2009 | Family
This is the last blog about last week’s writing conference. I promise. But before I close the book on the subject, please scrutinize the photo above and notice my presence on a conference panel of real, live, published, legitimate authors. As you can see, they even let me hold the mike and talk.
Of course, there’s a reason why everyone’s laughing. Before I answered the first question, I stopped the proceedings and asked a member of the audience to take a picture of the panel. I needed proof for my sibs that I was not telling tales again.
See, when we were kids, I lived in my own little world. My mother indulgently called my propensity for story telling “an active imagination.” My dad rolled his eyes. My creativity-impaired sibs, called it lying. Boy am I glad they weren’t in kindergarten with me. They might not have appreciated the stories I invented and told about them during show-and-tell. I thought of it as my personal comedy gig which grew more inventive and outrageous as the weeks rolled by.
So maybe they do have a reason to doubt my recent speaking and writing claims. And maybe I do have a reason to gather evidence to dispel their doubts. Anyway, I’m thankful that Shelly Beach humored my request instead of kicking me off the panel. Of course, after pulling a stunt like that, she may never invite me back, which is another reason I’m tickled to have this picture. It my most shiningest moment of fame since kindergarten – and it may be my last.
by jphilo | Jun 19, 2009 | Out and About
All week I’ve been meaning to share a little about the Iowa Christian Writers’ Conference I attended last week. And all week this, that, and the other thing has kept me from doing it. But I promise that today and tomorrow will be about the conference.
The conference, which is held at Riverview Bible Camp in Cedar Falls, is organized by author Shelly Beach. She spoke a few times, but the main speakers were authors Tracy Groot and Dennis Hensley.
Tracy is a fiction writer with a passion for research, not just the book kind, but the experiential kind also – living what your characters will be doing. Consequently, one of her sessions was a “research field trip” to the cemetery adjacent to Riverview Camp. On the way there, Tracy asked us to take notes of what we saw, smelled, felt and heard. She said we were going to meet someone in the cemetery and could ask him any questions that came to mind.
Imagine everyone’s surprise when we stumbled upon Dennis Hensley (aka Doc) leaning against a tombstone, playing the part of an elderly widower who spent several hours each day at his wife’s gravesite. A flashlight, jumper cables and a croquet mallet were arranged beside the woman’s tombstone, and Doc had a story about each item along with complete details about his wife’s appearance, her employment history, her family and their children.
We were all amazed, but I was agog. Why? Because I knew something most of the others didn’t. Tracy and Doc had cooked up their scheme just the night before. And Doc took off for the cemetery only a 20 minute before the rest of us. In that short time, he searched the cemetery for a tombstone of a recently deceased woman whose husband was still living. Once he found what he was looking for, he had only a few moments to cook up an Irish accent and Celtic history to match the names on the headstone.
How could he make it look so easy? No doubt, his natural talent, a deep knowledge of history and a creative mind, stood him in good stead. But the main reason he could pull it off was this: Doc Hensley has spent years honing his craft. He is committed to his writing, intense, focused, constantly challenging himself to improve and grow.
Tracy’s research field trip taught me so much. I left the cemetery with a notebook full of writing ideas and an awareness of how much remains to be learned. But most of all, I left grateful for writers who are ahead of me on this writing journey, but kindly paused to show me and so many others a few tricks of the trade.
So top of the morning to the three of ya – Shelly and Tracy and Doc. And thank you for all you did last week.
by jphilo | Jun 30, 2008 | Out and About
My trip to Grand Rapids was an out-of-body experience. Michigan is beautiful this time of year, so the scenery itself gave the trip a dreamlike quality. But, so many things occurred that don’t normally happen to ordinary Iowa girls like me, I began to wonder if I was living someone else’s life. I’m not being modest. More like flabbergasted, incredulous, blown-away. Here are a few examples:
- The editors at Discovery House Publishing took me out to dinner. (I can’t believe I’m saying this: “My editors took me to dinner.”) It was pretty cool, discussing who to get to endorse my book, and finding out they can contact some people I thought were way out of reach. And I managed not to spill anything on my lap, belch, or sneeze with food and drink in my mouth.
- The friend I stayed with, Shelly Beach, knows everyone in Grand Rapids. We met a couple of them, both published book authors, at a bakery one morning. I thought they would be highfaluting, literary types. But instead they were frazzled moms happy to talk grown-up for a few minutes while somebody else watched their kids. They even appreciated my parenting advice.
- Shelly took me to visit her editor. He asked to see our mystery book proposal when it’s ready in a month. If you are a writer, you know how many hurdles were avoided with that request.
- At the “Speak Up” Conference, which was the main reason I went, my-son-the-monk was often the topic of conversation. Many people were so fascinated, they asked for my business card. What can I say?
If it weren’t for the laundry waiting to be done, the backlog of mail, the huge list of things to follow up on, and my increasing sense of panic as my to do list grows exponentially, I’d be sure I’m living someone else’s life.
But I’m not. And the only explanation I can come up with is this: Aslan’s on the move.
by jphilo | Apr 15, 2008 | Current Events
Two weeks ago, on April 1, a carpenter friend called to tell me he was sending me an end table made of salvaged doors. Yesterday, the table arrived I can no longer accuse the carpenter, Scott Newport, of perpetrating a bad April Fool’s Day joke.
Scott’s one of the people I’ve met on the way to writing my book for parents of critically and chronically ill children. We met through Shelly Beach, author of Precious Lord, Take My Hand, a devotional book for caregivers. I met her at an Iowa writing conference she conducts in Iowa each year. Since she heard about my book idea, she’s been my biggest cheerleader in the publishing world. Scott met her at a conference she conducts in Michigan. When Shelly heard about their son Evan, she encouraged me to contact Scott. Since he heard about my book, he’s been my second biggest cheerleader in the publishing world.
This summer, I’m attending a conference near where Shelly lives and not far from where Scott lives. When Shelly heard I was coming she insisted on hosting me. When Scott heard I was coming, he suggested I meet his family. I suggested I interview him and his wife for my book. I can hardly believe this is all happening.
Two and a half years ago, my book was a germ of an idea. Next year it will be a reality. Already, I’ve made two great new friends and been given an end table. If that’s any indication of what comes from obeying God’s command to share the hard bits of life and the hope in Christ with strangers, I’m in for the count. I may need to invest in a bigger address book to keep track of my new friends. Maybe I should talk to Hiram about adding some rooms to the house for all the new furniture.
But for now, all I can say is thank you, Scott, and thank you, Shelly, for cheering me on. Your kindness has blessed my life.
