Deep Calls to the Deep

When Truman Capote invited Harper Lee to help him investigate it the murders of a family in Kansas, Lee described her interest by saying, “It was deep calling to deep.” From what I understand, there are a variety of meanings, one of which can mean the calling out of oneself. Sort of an unquenchable yearning. Whenever I hear this phrase I think of home… no matter where I go or how far I wander, for me there is no place like home.

With that being said, it only takes so long before an aspiring writer writes something about her home state. From 2010 to 2013 I attempted it, to write nice little Christian historical romances based in Indiana. It was a nice try and looking back I can see why it didn’t work. Those stories were based in Indiana and entertaining, but there was no realism. The characters were one dimensional and the set up was too silly for words. After that, I tried to write a couple other things, only managing to get short stories published.

But now the deep calls to the deep again… Indiana demands to be written about. These days, the novels out there based in Indiana are a laugh. The characters sound more like they are from Texas than our beloved Hoosier state.

I was lucky; I come from a family of natural-born story tellers. Both sets of my grandparents were part of the Greatest Generation. My one grandma was very open about her life, very detailed too.

So, for my two-or-so readers out there, this is what my new EPIC NOVEL is about: The Great Depression. Indiana. Prohibition. Marriage of convenience. Loss of a child.

More later. Thanks for reading.

Life Update

Well, it’s been a month since I have updated on my life. The month-long posts dedicated to the Holocaust were pretty successful, I think. All of those stories of survivors, victims, rescuers and resistors remind me of what got me interested in the first place. No matter where I go or what I do, the subject of the Holocaust isn’t far behind me. I can’t explain why, but it my magnificent obsession.

It has been a full year since my Dad has passed away. At times it feels like it happened just yesterday and at other times it feels like it has been over a decade. Sometimes the pain is so deep and the sadness so great that I don’t have the words to express my grief. Or the tears. I am going through a dry spell when it comes to crying. I can only muddle through and place my hope in God that someday times will be better. In many ways it is getting easier. We’ve gotten through all of the firsts and we are making plans. So that’s good.

My sister discovered that she has a gluten allergy. For the last few years she’s had issues with her digestion. Last year she had her gall bladder removed and expected that after a couple months to feel better. In many ways she only got worse. A few weeks ago, after a bad reaction to a meal, the three of us prayed and I did some snooping around on the internet. A half hour or so later, we concluded that she was gluten-intolerant. Now that she has detoxed from gluten, she has started to feel better. 

I am slowly and carefully querying the agents for WIP #2. I sent out a barrage of queries for WIP #1, up to ten a day at times. This time, however, I have limited myself to six queries a week. One agent (that I had high hopes for) rejected it sight unseen. One Christian agent (rather her assistant) said it wouldn’t fly in the Christian market because the heroine is deceitful. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come across Christian novels with a deceitful hero or heroine. She did say that the tone was good. Meanwhile, keeping myself occupied with WIP #3. It’s difficult to pace myself when it comes to a project that I am especially psyched about. I just want to dive in, head first, swim around and lose myself in it completely. I had my sister read a draft of it and she liked it and gave many helpful suggestions for it. If all goes according to plan (in all likelihood, it won’t because life never goes according to plan) perhaps I can query the agents about it in the fall. 

A Christian Writer’s Woes

I’m not like most Christian writers. From what I have observed they write strictly to glorify God and while I admire that, I don’t do as they do. I love God and intend to serve Him for all of my days on earth and in heaven, but when I put pen to paper (or finger tips to keyboard) my mind is full of dialog, characters, description and plots. I think of Him off and on, but when I am scribbling or typing away, my thoughts are more focused on how attractive I can make this particular scene.

While I intend to craft a novel in such a way that points to Jesus as the Answer for all mankind, when I write it is to satisfy myself. It is the workings of an imaginative mind, the musings of a lonely heart, and the outpourings of an uncommunicative soul. You know, I can’t even recall ever asking God if it was His will for me to be a novelist. I just always assumed that since I have that kind of gift that I was destined to write. I fanaticize about the day when I can walk into any bookstore and find my works on the shelves next to other literary greats.

I rarely pray before I create a new story, character or anything of the sort. Usually I just put it all down and at some later date I talk to the Almighty about it. Sometimes the ideas come so fast that I want to flesh them out before I forget them. Sometimes I feel that words alone can’t describe how I feel about still being unpublished and I ask the Holy Spirit to relate my pain to the Lord.

Writing is really the only thing I know how to do. And do well. I have a few other gifts but the passion for them isn’t there. Whether I ever see my works in print, I have to write. It is an obsession; it is like breathing to me.

The Entry Without a Title

I'd like to blog something but can't think of anything to say. My writing is in limbo right now. As of last month, the novel I have been working on turned seven, meaning that it is seven years old. I suppose its not realistic for me to continue working on it, but I can't let go. I love it too much to give up on it. I've read blogs by agents and editors, and writers too, that advise an aspiring author to move on to other projects. Tell that to Jane Austen, who spent sixteen years waiting for her beloved "First Impressions" (a.k.a. "Pride and Prejudice) to be published. Now, I'm not comparing my novel to "P&P" but I'm just as attached to the story as Austen was. I pray to God that someday, someone might realize who valuable my story is. I did finish a first draft of another project a couple of months ago and I've set that aside for a little while. I'm now working on something new; another holocaust novel. But I don't have the devotion to these newer projects that I do my seven-year-old one.

There is a quote somewhere by some other author that a piece of work must sit for nine years or so until it can be published. Well, if that's the way it is, I have two years more to wait! Part of my problem is that I've submitted it to anyone one and everyone who I thought might be interested. I should have been more particular. I have to find someone who falls head-over-heels in love with my novel. Someone - editor or agent- who can be as passionately devoted to it as I am. And I must learn humility. I'm afraid that in the past few years I've acquired an inflated ego about myself and my God-given talents. On top of that I continually take Jesus off His throne and place my own wants before others.

On the positive side, I've lost weight. Last November I was nearing 180lbs and so far I've lost nearly 13lbs. So, yay for me!

All for now.