by jphilo | Oct 22, 2008 | Book Updates
Today I hit the Big 6-0, and I’m doing a happy dance to celebrate. I finished the sixtieth and last devotion for my book. Since the manuscript isn’t due to the publisher until January 1, you probably think I’m doing the overachiever thing. I assure you, I’m not.
In the next couple days, I’ll do a light edit on the eleven devotions in the final section of the book and paste them into a preliminary order, something I’ve already done to the first five sections. I still have to send individual devotions from the last two sections to anyone mentioned in them so they can give approval and suggestions. The introductions for all six sections need to be written, and then I’ll paste everything into a first draft of the entire manuscript, kind of like connecting strings of Christmas lights.
But wait, there’s more. Once the first draft is all together, I will send the electronic manuscript to several cold readers. They’ll have two weeks to read it and make comments. Then I’ll consider their comments and incorporate many of them.
But that’s not all. After those changes are made, I’ll print a hard copy and edit it all by myself. My goal is to have everything done and the manuscript sent to Discovery House Publishers before Christmas. Sort of an early present to myself. Thinking about what remains to be done overwhelms me, especially since I have to squeeze in baking pies for Thanksgiving, making holiday Chex mix with Mom, and Christmas shopping.
But I refuse to worry about those things today. Today is all about hitting the Big 6-0 and doing a happy dance. Life is good!
by jphilo | Oct 17, 2008 | Book Updates
Four years ago, when I told my sibs I had signed on with an agent, they were a little suspicious. Okay, so they were used to my slightly embellished stories from childhood and my drama queen tendencies, but would I spread a story about a make-believe agent?
Past experience convinced them I would, and for years I had no way to prove them wrong other than our contract which, out of modesty, I don’t flash around. In the years since I met Les, we haven’t connected much so any other kind of proof was in short supply. I attended a workshop Les conducted at my very first writing conference in 2002, but we didn’t meet. All our correspondence after I signed with him in 2004 was through email until the spring of 2006 when we met at Mt. Hermon, but I was too giddy to ask anyone to take our picture.
But this past September, were both at the American Fiction Christian Writer’s Conference in Minneapolis, and he asked if I’d like to go to dinner and meet some of his other clients. I said yes in a hurry. Two clients had their cameras with them, and after dinner we asked our server to take a picture of us. I begged the others to send me a picture, citing my need for credibility with those who know me best. So here’s proof. The gentleman in the middle is my agent, Les Stobbe. From left to right, the writers are Beverly C. Varnado, Sue Duffy, Martha B. Hook, and me.
I’m pleased to announce that Les has agreed to represent the Gina Lindsey Mystery Series co-written by Jolene Philo and Virgiinia Work. With that news, I need to quit blogging. It’s time to work on my two manuscripts and give something to keep Les busy.
by jphilo | Oct 15, 2008 | Book Updates
Today I’m pleased to introduce you to Nic. The two of us spent a year in fourth grade together. He was a student. I was the teacher. Nic’s a 9th grader this year, with a drivers’ permit and an old VW Beetle he’s fixing up with his dad.
Nic’s a kid with a grin on his face most of the time. When he was in fourth grade, his grin was biggest the day he came in and said his annual check up revealed no sign of the cancer he’d overcome when he was a toddler.
Nic was in middle school when the cancer returned in his thigh bone. But a year later when he agreed to be interviewed for my book, he was grinning like always. The pictures posted on his CaringBridge page, show he’s still smiling.
His battle with cancer continues, and his story is pretty amazing. I encourage you to visit CaringBridge and read about him and his family. His grin will have you smiling in no time.
But don’t get any ideas about riding in his refurbished VW before I do. I’ve already called shotgun for a spin around town right after his family members have their turns. There are certain perks teenagers give to their fourth grade teachers. I plan to take advantage of all of them.
by jphilo | Oct 3, 2008 | Book Updates
For the past two days, I’ve been writing devotions for the “Death of a Child” section of my book. I feel quite presumptuous writing devotions designed to comfort parent who have lost children. What right do I have to approach the subject as the parent whose two children are living?
I’m somewhat qualified to write the other sections of the book – Diagnosis, Hospital Life, Juggling Two Worlds, Caring for a Chronically Ill Child, and Surviving Childhood illness – but for this one section, I feel wholly inadequate. But the publishers want the issue addressed, and it would be unrealistic to write a book for parents or critically and chronically ill children without addressing the reality of childhood death.
So I am exceedingly grateful to the parents who have lost children and agreed to be interviewed. Their experience are poignant and joyful, grief-stricken and hopeful. As their stories weave in and out of the devotions, the grace and wisdom of parents who have suffered much and still pronounce life good amazes me.
I cry when I think about writing their stories. I cry as I write their stories. I cry as I think of what these parents have suffered and how willingly they share their children’s stories with newly bereaved parents. I cry when I think of how this book, full of their stories, honors the lives and deaths of children no longer on this earth. I cry when I think about how God has used these stories to cover my inadequacy.
I reach for the tissues and pray for the parents who have lost children, who are about to lose children, and for the children who are dying. I pray for my children, both living, grateful for my inadequacy in this subject area. Keep my children safe, I pray. Keep me wholly inadequate.
Please, Lord, please.
by jphilo | Sep 13, 2008 | Book Updates
This drippy, gray morning – compliments of Hurricane Ike most likely – I walked right past the obvious. A spider spun sparkling web last night right outside the kitchen door. I passed it twice before noticing it.
I missed the obvious at least once yesterday, too. I emailed our book proposal to my agent and got a nice note back from him. But he had a question: the attachment was titled “Slick Creek Proposal,” but the book title was “What They Cannot See: A Gina Lindsey Mystery.” So where, he wondered, did Slick Creek fit in?
I could have kicked myself. When Ginger and I started writing the book, we called it “Slick Creek” because that’s the town closest to the action. When we settled on the title “What They Cannot See” for the time being, (since “Murder at Slick Creek” sounded a little to Nancy Drew) I never changed the document name. And when it was time to send it to my agent, I ignored the obvious confusion the two different titles would cause for someone unfamiliar with the book.
How often does this sort of thing happen? Too often. I’d like to change that. For a few days the spider web will remind me to stop ignoring the obvious and pay attention to reality. But eventually, the web will disappear and the veneer of routine and habit will blind me again.
I don’t want to slip back into blindness. I don’t want to stumble around and make insensitive mistakes. I don’t want to look past the beauty of the obvious and ordinary. I don’t want to discount the perspectives of other people. I don’t want to forget how to live.
by jphilo | Sep 11, 2008 | Book Updates
I’m not a complainer. Maybe that’s not quite true. But I don’t complain all the time, just most of the time. Look at it this way. On a really good day, there are whole minutes when I don’t complain at all. Pretty impressive record, if I do say so myself.
This morning as I worked on a devotion for my book for parents of sick and dying kids, God kept me from complaining about my husband. Not that I complain about him all the time, and the devotion I wrote this morning should boost my record.
This devotion was for separated and divorced parents who need to lay aside their differences and communicate with each other for the sake of their sick child. Thankfully, a divorced mom was completely honest about the struggles she and her former husband had when their son battled leukemia. Because of her, I was able to share a story and give some advice to help other parents in a similar situation.
Hearing her family’s story and writing about it made me thankful for my husband. He endured with great patience my emotional, hormonal rants after Allen was born and flown away for surgery. Sometimes as I look back, I’m amazed our marriage held together. But it did, mostly because of his love and patience and forgiveness.
That realization put the kibosh on my complaining, least for today. But I’ll need another reminder tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. Good thing Hiram’s still a loving, patient and forgiving man. Because of him our marriage will last.
