by jphilo | Aug 19, 2009 | Book Updates
Those of you who read yesterday’s post know I’m a little testy this week. “2 much technology 4 me 2 do,” as a Twitter post would say. And since Twitter is one of Technology woman’s testiness catalysts, it deserves a mention here.
However, progress has been made in the past 24 hours. The website is coming along slowly but surely, and my web guy may not be the whip cracker first impressions made him out to be. And while I’m not quite moving forward in the Twitter sea, I am treading water which is a step up from the drowning sensation of last week.
But the big news is that the publicist at Discovery House Publishers completed the book trailer for A Different Dream for My Child and posted it at a variety of places on the web, including YouTube. If you’re wondering what a book trailer is, you can find out by clicking this link. Of course, that’s assuming this technology woman wannabe follows directions so everything works like it should.
by jphilo | Aug 6, 2009 | Book Updates
This morning, when I poured skuggly, slimy green water from my rainbucket into my flowerpots, the overwhelming sense of playing at life assaulted me. This sensation is nothing new. Those who knew me way back when can vouch for my perpetual citizenship in the land of make-believe. For much of my childhood, with an imagination fueled by repeated readings of the Little House books, I pretended to be a log cabin, prairie girl. Of course, that was fine and dandy for a little kid, but I pranced into adulthood with one foot still firmly planted in la-la land. To this day, my foot’s still there.
My first teaching job at Sky Ranch for Boys, a treatment facility for juvenile delinquents, should have yanked me free, but it didn’t. With several seasons of Welcome Back, Kotter under my belt and the repeated viewing of To Sir With Love during my formative years, I knew my recent college training and high ideals were just what a bunch of wayward adolescent boys riding on erratic waves of testosterone and illicit drugs needed to turn them around.
Boy, was I wrong. After two years in the classroom, my efforts hadn’t accomplish half as much as Sidney Poitier did in and hour and a half on the big screen. Before long, playing the part of a saintly, compassionate miracle working teacher became, well, hard work.
So I left that job and got a new one teaching country school in the little South Dakota town where we lived. My constant childhood rereadings of the Little House books and hours of playing school marm with my cousins as students had me convinced I knew everything there was to know about country schools, though my educational training never addressed the subject.
Boy, was I wrong. Teaching the kids the traditional subjects wasn’t the problem. The problem was teaching music, art, and PE – not a pretty sight. The job duties also included cleaning the school, making sure the bulls weren’t in the school yard before dismissing kids for the day, and pooper-scooping with a snow shovel after the bulls and the kids were gone.
So, how did I reconcile the lovely land of make-believe with the cruel, workaday world? I became a fiction writer. Three years ago when my mystery writing partner and I started writing a novel based on our experiences on the prairie. Working on the project is like total immersion in la-la land. We are allowed, even encouraged, to keep pretending as long as we keep writing, which could be a long time if the book gets published and turns into a series.
Of course, immersion in la-la land sometimes seeps into everyday life, which brings me back to watering my flowers with skuggly, slimy rainwater this morning. See, I know I’m just playing at being an eco-friendly, farm woman. And I know that someday, when the play becomes work, I’ll bail and cook up a new way to play.
The great thing about this immature propensity is that I don’t have to grow out of it. Because I’m a fiction writer, I get to call it research and do it some more. But enough talk about the land of make-believe. It’s time to get to work. Or play. Or work. To me, they’re one and the same.
by jphilo | Jul 15, 2009 | Book Updates
A few days ago I received an email from Teresa Lasher, a woman I met at the Iowa Christian Writers’ Conference. She sent me this picture and told me how much the little teddy bear, which she won as a door prize during the session I facilitated, means to her.
If you don’t know why I give teddy bears as door prizes when I speak, go to this link at Maria Keckler’s website where she recently posted the story. To explain further, I tell the teddy bear story at speaking engagements. I end my saying that whoever receives the door prize needs the reassurance from God I felt when I saw the teddy bear on the cover of my book – “It’s gonna be alright” – or they know someone who needs to hear the message and will pass the bear along.
Well, at the writers’ conference I gave away two teddy bears. The first went to a woman who is recovering from the tragic deaths of two of her sons. The other went to Teresa, who recently went through brain surgery and has recently welcomed back a prodigal son after a separation similar to what we experienced with Allen.
To say a few tears were shed when the women came forward for their teddy bears would be an understatement. The three of us bonded immediately and have begun what I believe could be lifelong friendships. And all of us left the conference with a “God sighting” story we’ll never forget.
by jphilo | Jun 30, 2009 | Book Updates
Okay, okay, so this hometown girl hasn’t made it big yet, and I may never make it big. But for the first time in a long time, my hometown paper, The Le Mars Daily Sentinel ran a story about me in which I am not:
a) Perched on an improvised Sopwith Camel
b) Sporting a green, ratted up-do
c) Dressed as a hedgehog
d) Garbed in theatrical black
e) Pretending to be someone I’m not, and having a jolly time doing so
Instead, the story is the first of what I hope will be many newspaper stories about my new book. My goal isn’t to get my picture taken, though it was fun when the reporter, who is also my old friend Beverly Van Buskirk, snapped my photo in front of our former high school. And my goal isn’t to create a big fan base, though it was fun to get a congratulatory FaceBook note from a former high school classmate.
My goal is to get A Different Dream for My Child into the hands of parents who need answers and hope as they deal with their children’s health issues. Bev’s article helped realize that goal because the former classmate who sent me the FaceBook note also has a special needs son. She’s eager to buy the book. And if it helps her and her family, no matter how many or few copies are ultimately sold, I will have made it plenty big.
by jphilo | May 23, 2009 | Book Updates
The publicist from Discovery House emailed yesterday and said Annette Selden, one of their editors had reviewed A Different Dream for My Child on her blog. I followed the link, of course, and read what she had to say.
You read the review at Annette’s blog, along with one of the devotions from the book, “The Shirt of Her Back.” Just so you know, the story is completely true. An elderly woman we barely knew took off her shirt near a busy Omaha intersection in a vain attempt to help us unlock our car.
Now I’ve piqued your curiosity. To satisfy it, you’ll have to click on the link and see!
by jphilo | May 20, 2009 | Book Updates
Yesterday, the editor emailed the first proofs of A Different Dream for My Child for me to examine. That means the design and layout experts worked their magic on the manuscript, and it’s starting to look like a book. My job is to look for mistakes and make suggestions to improve upon the good work they have done.
Throughout the book-writing process, I’ve kept my emotions in check even though writing and publishing a book is a lot like giving birth. But when I read the introduction page, where our son’s birth is described, and I saw Allen’s name and birthdate on a real-looking page of what will be a real book, I began to cry. Too bad I can’t claim hormones caused my emotional outburst. That was such a convenient excuse during and after pregnancy. And I can’t say I was high on laser printer toner since it doesn’t work like mimeograph fluid did in the olden days.
When I saw his name on the page, the old memories came flooding back. My heart swelled with gratitude to see how God can our hardships, and those of the other families featured in the book, to minister to hurting kids and parents in the future.
Is it a coincidence that the first proofs arrived a few days before my son’s birthday? I don’t think so. For almost twenty-seven years, the third week in May has been pregnant with preparations for the celebration of his life. This week promises to be more of the same – gifts, a family meal, German chocolate birthday cake, and one more thing – first proofs to cry over when no one is looking my way.
