The Master's Artist

The biggest book in the world

I am writing this in the library. The library - a haven of wise writings, awed silence and my concentrated mind. Not on your nelly. No, this place is in a state of chaos. A class of primary children arrived at the same time as me, and while they were forming a queue at the door, there was a mere thirty seconds to weigh the pros and cons of staying, before they flooded in and all serious thought flooded out. The only thing I have enough concentration to write about now is something about the world's biggest book.

Reduced

It’s easy to ignore the still small voice. The twinge. The pang. Work through the pain, and the pain will go away. Until one day you push a little too far, and something snaps.

The Author's Note

I hadn't read anything of Don Miller's since Blue Like Jazz. I knew he'd been writing, I just hadn't kept up. Then a friend recommended A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. It came in my little Amazon box yesterday and I was giddy. I don't really know why - or at least, I didn't, until I started reading...

What Good is a Book Store?

 
This morning my write-or-die chick author Rhonda McKnight and I were pub chatting, particularly about the future of bookstores. She shared her vision of what she thinks bookstores of the future would look like, which sparked a stimuating discussion that I want to continue here at The Master's Artist today. Because this issue (what good is a book store?) is one Christian bookstores isn't either having enough of or is missing the larger picture of its growing lack of relevance to the community at large.

What Good is a Book Store when...

The antidote to anxiety?

 

Now I’m not suggesting for a minute I’ve got this thing down but I have discovered a little secret in recent weeks that I’m feeling confident enough about to share.

 

Better Early Than Never

 

Writing-wise, 2009 was the toughest yet. I showed up every day and typed for a couple of hours. Some days my Muse made an appearance, most days not. I resisted the urge to talk about writer’s block because, frankly, I’d been denying its existence for years. My theory was that blocks were for building things or hiding things or cramming into a toy box and ignoring until they end up in the back of the van on the way to the new Goodwill store in the neighborhood. In short, I though it was make-believe, a plaything I could write roughshod over.

Mostly, I was wrong.

Jesus and His job completed

As an author, I experience the thrill of feeling God's pleasure as I write. But I also go through dry times, difficulties. This week has been one of those lower times. I'm thankful for dear friends and a prayer team who encourage me through. I'm thankful for Jesus who speaks words of insight into the situation.

Today driving back home after dropping my daughter off at school, I thought about Jesus, how He must've felt leaving earth after His resurrection. He left a ragtag group of men and women, terribly clay footed, on the heels of many personal betrayals. Peter denied Him three times. His disciples scattered in fear. On the road to Emmaus, two didn't recognize Him.

 

Mount Hermon Christian Writers’ Conference was something I planned to do… you know, after I moved to Hollywood, cast myself as Dolly Parton, and produced my debut film with Matthew McConaughey.

 I’d read all about M.H. Most of the authors I admired/stalked got started in this magical place. And I thought, “How nice. Maybe some day after I (a) get a life (b) get a manuscript (c) get a shorter list of lame excuses… I’ll go.”

 The truth was… I was terrified.

 Then it happened.

The Rules

Rules. Do's and don'ts. You either love or hate them. But whatever your opinion, you have to admit that rules are another great way to avoid writing. If you love rules but hate blog posts, skip to the link below for a good list. If you are interested in some serious writing-avoidance, read the post, and then click the link. I myself am in that interesting phase of not-writing-as-I-just-finished-a-manuscript-ha-ha. So I'm just enjoying looking at the rules at the moment, appreciating them for what they are. I'm in that delicious space of them not directly applying. So they can't touch me.

Epithalamion

They entered, each with her lantern ablaze, showing themselves wise and lighting the path to the place where he awaited his beloved.

Her face veiled, she came toward him, willingly, in the surrender of a bride. And as she approached, he played his guitar and sang:

Well the prophecy’s not simple, though all of it’s been said and done
Still the revelation waits to form itself within our love
And this we know, though we are yet unknown:

In our minds and in our flesh we ache
For the coming dawn, for the light of day
And the light will break us and faith will claim our lives
For when the two are one, both of them must die
For when the two are one, both are brought to light