Waiting is Good for You. No, really!

Way back at the start of my writing journey, I naively thought it would take a month or two to sell my novel once I’d finished writing it (which I did mid-year 2005).  I scoffed at writers who only managed to sell the third or fourth book they’d penned thinking that would never be me. I laugh now when I look back – I pushed hard to finish my first book thinking that would be our source of grocery money in a month or two’s time. I know, right?! Writer friends – pick yourself up off the floor, stop sniggering and keep reading please.

The transition from that level of bright-eyed faith in my calling to the impossible hope sober reality of getting a book published broke my heart many times over. I argued with God – how can He tell me to do something, then make it impossible for me to do? I fought, pleaded, declared in faith, got my friends to agree with me, still Heaven wouldn’t budge. In those early days, the one thing He did say consistently was that I was going to have to trust Him beyond what I’d ever trusted Him before. Ouch.

Did I ever want to give up? I’d be lying if I said no, and bad things happen to people who lie so… heck yeah. And I did, many times over. And yet, here I am still writing. And the strangest part of it all? I’m grateful that my first book wasn’t published the month after I’d finished writing it. Sounds crazy, but I am grateful to the very marrow in my bones and here’s why:

1) I’ve developed a writing work ethic that doesn’t depend on the acceptance / approval of others. Its a sneaky trap for a writer – there is nothing quite like the charge we get when someone ooo’s and aaah’s over our work, or we get a request for more, or we land that freelance job – it buoys us to keep the words flowing. But I found the energy from each positive would only carry me so far and I’d be needing my next fix of approval. I need to know what is in my gut to say to the world, and be true to put my bottom in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard. Regardless of the feedback I do or do not get.

2)  My skill as a writer has grown. I’ve had time to glean and absorb, to apply and work my writing muscles.

3) I appreciate any writing gaps that I get in my busy days. I don’t scoff at a stolen 10 minutes or a forward push of 500 words. It all adds up, builds and brings your book that tiny bit closer to being finished.

4) I’m getting to know myself as a writer – who my key audience is, what I should avoid writing, where my sweet spot is, the most effective way for me to tackle a project.

5) I’ve let go of the need to manipulate God’s timing and am able to let Him help me wait graciously and productively without the tantrums and crises of faith. He gave me the gift, He will use it best in His good timing. As much as I still get the odd day of throwing toys, I know I can trust Him to help me manage my heart in the meantime.

The process of waiting is a beautiful thing. It causes our roots to dig deeper into our Source, making us less likely to wither at the first blast of a hot wind or drought. It makes us tough yet, strangely, more flexible. It prepares us for the work that is written into our DNA to do.

And so I’ve learnt to trust the process, not only for the process itself, but because I know the Author of the process.

How do you cope with waiting? I’d love to hear from you.

Dianne J. Wilson writes novels from her hometown in East London, South Africa, where she lives with her husband and three daughters.

Finding Mia is available from Amazon, Pelican / Harbourlight, Barnes & Noble and other bookstores.

Shackles is available as a free ebook from Smashwords.

Find her on Facebook, Twitter and her sporadic blog Doodles.

When God Closes a Door...

Writers are very familiar with the concept of closing doors. Maybe because we are always peeking through them while trying to sneak our foot inside. Queries. Proposals. Contests. Blogs. Everything we can to get the attention of reader, agent, or publisher. Some closing doors weren't very wide to begin with so it's not too painful. Query letters are a great example of this. You send out bunches and learn to expect a high rejection rate. Others, like a publisher you've been communicating with for months before they decide to turn down your work, carries a little more sting,  Every time these doors closed in the past, I convinced myself it was one of two things. Or a combination of both.

1. I need to make my writing better.
2. God has a better plan for this story.

But I've never seen His hand as clearly as I did this year:

At the end of March this year I gave birth to my third child. To beat baby blues I decided to enter into a writing contest. Namely, Love Inspired's Blurb-2-Book. (I've never had such an enjoyable recovery!)  I figured I had nothing to lose one way or another. And then I passed on to the second round. I must admit to being a little excited as I started in on a complete rewrite of a first draft I'd pounded out about eight years ago, which has been sitting as a file ever since. It went from being completely from the heroines POV to including the POV of on of the most complex, but easy to love (if I understand my critique partners and beta readers correctly) heroes I've written. The story came to life and I started getting hopeful.

Then the door closed.

I didn't make the third round in the contest. The editor enjoyed the story, but had a couple concerns about my poor, conflicted hero. She did leave the door unlocked for future submission of my work directly to her, but I was out of the contest.

I was disappointed, but that did mean I no longer had a tight deadline to have my story completed. Without the restraints on my time, I decided to enter a couple short story contests. I wrote two stories and entered them, and then went back to my novel, finishing it about the time the Blurb-2-Book judging was complete. At that same time I found out my short stories (which I wouldn't have even written if I'd continued in LI's contest) both won their contests and would be published.

And then the Lord swung yet another door open and shoved me through it.

A week or so after I won the short story contests, an author friend and critique partner said she felt a "God nudge" to mention me to her publisher, who wasn't accepting submissions unless you met them in person at a conference (hard to do with a new baby). They said I could submit my finished manuscript, and within a month offered me a contract!

It was difficult not to look back and not be amazed. Especially recognizing that if that LI editor had passed me on to the third round of the contest, I would have been scrambling to finish my manuscript (and it probably wouldn't have turned out nearly as well as it did), I wouldn't have entered any of the short story contests, and I wouldn't be working with my present editor who, from what I hear, will be excellent for me at this point in my career.

Most times we don't see the next doors open quite as wide or quickly as in this case, but looking back over the past ten years of writing I see how The Lord has prepared me, worked with me and steered me from closed doors to the ones that would bless my life. I am so grateful for such a faithful guide!

(As a side-note, last week I was offered a two book contract by another publisher on a manuscript -  and the premise of its sequel - that has had many a door shut in its face and and many a rewrite. I'm so grateful for the hands the Lord has placed it in!)

How have you seen doors open or close as the Lord guided you?

Angela K Couch is an award-winning author for her short stories, and a semi-finalist in ACFW’s 2015 Genesis Contest. As a passionate believer in Christ, her faith permeates the stories she tells. Her martial arts training, experience with horses, and appreciation for good romance sneak in there, as well. Angela lives in Alberta, Canada with her “hero” and three munchkins. 
Visit her at www.angelakcouch.com 
Follow on Twitter or Facebook!

PATIENCE

Spring - just the word alone evokes images of flowers blooming, the sun shining, new life and rebirth.

However, although it’s spring here, that isn’t what I see when I look outside. A few days ago, it snowed. And as I’m writing this, it’s dark and rainy.

But, I know it won’t last. I know the sun will come out, the temperature will rise, the lovely days can’t be too far off.

And it’s that hope and patience, that we must have as professionals to make our dreams come to fruition.

As Michelangelo once said, “Genius is eternal patience.”

So we must learn to endure it, cultivate it, revel in it, because, “Patience is the companion of wisdom.” (Saint Augustine)

A novel can’t be written yesterday. “Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.” (Jean-Jacques Rousseau)

Good work, work worth doing, takes time.

And if we can learn to be patient, “Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish.“ (John Quincy Adams) And before we know it, we get exactly what we’ve worked for.

So I hope you enjoy the spring, and come what may, summer is just around the corner.

Eva Maria Hamilton is the author of Highland Hearts, a Love Inspired Historical novel published by Harlequin.

Scotland 1748

The Battle of Culloden is over, but one Highlander’s fight has just begun…

Logan McAllister survived years of indentured servitude in the Americas to reach this moment. Now he’s returned to Scotland, ready to redeem the secret promise from Sheena Montgomery’s father – that his years as an indentured servant would earn him Sheena’s hand in marriage. But when he arrives home, he learns that Sheena’s father has died, his contract has been lost… and Sheena is engaged to another man.

To connect with Eva Maria Hamilton online, please visit her at www.evamariahamilton.com

Don't be in a hurry to finish

Each time I've worked on a novel, I've experienced an impatience many of us may be familiar with. We are reveling in the worlds of our characters and their stories and wish other people were already there with us. We want to hold the finished product in our hands, admire the lovely covers, breathe in the wonderful new book aroma and visit Amazon to find out if any reviewers have had anything to say.

When I finished work on my most recently published novel, Best Forgotten, I was quite surprised by something I never expected to happen. I quickly started missing it all. While I was taking my well-earned break from writing, I discovered that I really wanted to be nutting out scenes, dreaming about characters, making my own editing slashes along the way and building up piles of A4 paper. I wanted to be shuffling scenes around and deleting waffly parts of the story. I realized the whole process means far more to me than just necessary, busy-work to achieve an end result. Fiction writing really is a rewarding and valuable activity during every stage of the process and when I don't have a current manuscript to keep my imagination occupied for months, I hate it.

Currently, I am about 50 000 words into a new project, Along for the Ride. A few days ago I found myself filled with that impatient excitement to have feedback from others already. I reminded myself that this 'quiet' stage is valuable. People may not be hearing much from me about new book releases or launches but that doesn't mean I'm just sitting idle around my house. This is the stage where my mind is ticking over with events and dialogues which my fingers are racing to record and keep up with. Whenever that impatience creeps up on me this time, I'm reminding myself that I'm enjoying every moment.

Is anybody else in the middle of a long-term project which you're finding a bit of a drag? It might be a novel, a study degree, a home or garden project or some enormous art or craft. Maybe it's some sort of outreach mission which never appears to be making much of a difference. Do you ever hear yourself grumble, "I can't wait until this is finished," or something like that? I encourage you to enjoy every moment of the hard work you devote to it, because you'll never have those creative moments back again pouring energy into a long-term project larger than yourself is an exhilarating thing to do.

Paula Vince is a homeschooling mother and award-winning novelist from Adelaide, South Australia. She has written a fantasy/adventure trilogy for young adults along with four romantic dramas with elements of suspense and mystery.

THE DRATTED DAY-JOB--by Christine Lindsay

Is there anyone out there like me who gets stressed going to a day-job? Anyone who gets that nervous swirl in the pit your stomach as you drive to work, dreading confrontations with unhappy customers, or that you won’t be able to complete your assigned tasks to the quality expected?

A few weeks ago I started a new day-job. I call it the day-job because it's not my career. My day-job is the work that financially supports the real labor of my heart. Not many writers of Christian fiction make enough money to support themselves full-time. But then none of us are in it for the money anyway.

But I need a regular pay-check to pay the bills.

The week I started my new job in a department store doing product demonstrations, I was praying hard that the Lord would meet me at work and smooth things out so that I wouldn’t be totally stressed. At the same time the book of Ruth was next in my Bible to read for my daily devotions.

I’ve read the book of Ruth numerous times. Always thought of it as one of the sweetest love stories ever told, a love story between Boaz and Ruth, but also between Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi.

But as I read this love story my eyes gleaned something I’d never seen before. Having to support herself and Naomi, the only work Ruth could find was the physical labor of gleaning barley in a field that belonged to Boaz. I’d known for a long time that Boaz was inspired by God to notice Ruth because God had plans for their romance and the offspring of that love. But this was the first time I noticed how God smoothed the stresses out of Naomi’s work day.

Boaz instructed his work-hands to ensure that Ruth was not stressed by others. His female servants were to take Ruth under their wing and keep her day peaceful. Not only was Ruth's workday made as easy as possible, Boaz arranged for her to receive bonus product to take home at the end of the day.

At a time I needed it most, the Lord opened my eyes to an element in this love story that gave me peace as I drove to my new job. I asked Him in prayer to do for me what He’d instructed Boaz to do for Ruth.

And, just like Ruth, the Lord saw that other workers in the department store were around when I needed help. There were smiles of encouragement, and no one to stress me out. People were just there when I needed help me put up my awkward sign at the start of my day, and at the end of the day to take it down.

God really does care about every aspect of our life. We just have to open our eyes to see the intimacies of God's love for us, as I've written into the fictional story of my characters.

But most of all He cares about the real day-job of a Christian writer so that I can pay my bills and keep going with the ministry of my heart---writing Christian fiction to encourage others in the faith.

I hope you'll drop by my website www.ChristineLindsay.com and visit with me. I'm so grateful to the Lord for providing in so many ways to allow me to see my debut novel, Shadowed in Silk, be released this year. Shadowed in Silk was the Gold winner of the 2009 ACFW Genesis for historical novel. And thanks to Him, He's providing so I can continue to write. Next book is on it's way.

Lord Give Me Patience, Only Do It Quickly

I was born in England where I spent the first five years of my life living in a small semi-detached house with my mum, brother and gran. At some point my future step-father appeared on the scene and my mum announced that she was going with him to South Africa for a while with a view to us moving there permanently. I had visions of dirt roads lined with grass huts and lions roaming about looking for something to eat. I had seen Tarzan on television, so can you blame me?

Within the year, we arrived in this weird world where the sky was so blue it hurt your eyes and the soil was not black but red. Our first stop was Westville outside Durban. We rented a house with massive windows looking out onto a terraced garden that seemed to go on forever. I was relieved to see that there were no lions, and delighted that we were not going to have to live in a grass hut. It was hot and humid and there seemed to be a thunderstorm almost every night. We would sit in the back bedroom and watch the forks of lightning flash across the sky, anticipating the mighty crashes of thunder and counting the seconds to see how far away we were from the storm.

It took me a while to adjust to life in South Africa. There was the heat, and the red soil, and the schools where the corridors all seemed to be on the outside of the buildings. There was the strange language where people greeted each other with 'howzit?' and the curious signs such as 'roomys ice-cream' (it was ages before I realized 'roomys' wasn't the brand name of the ice-cream) and 'city stad' that I always saw on the buses.

The other thing I remember about South Africa is the wildlife. For the first five years of my young existence, the only insects I had seen were some ants and the odd butterfly in my gran's back garden. In the few months we lived in Westville I discovered all sorts of weird and wonderful creatures, including snakes, spiders, flying ants, centipedes, and cockroaches the size of small rodents (with the wonderful Afrikaans name 'kakkerlakke'). My first experiences of kakkerlakke was particularly memorable. I had been given a small plastic cuckoo clock for Christmas (I really wanted a toy car, but it was a nice clock) and my mum hung it on the back door in the kitchen. Within a few days it stopped working so she lifted it off the door to have a look. As she did this, two big hard-shelled cockroaches scuttled out. I remember my mum screaming and dropping the clock into the laundry basket. So one of my earliest memories of Africa is of two bugs breaking a cuckoo clock.

Another vivid memory I have is of catching buses. We moved to Cape Town and rented a flat in a place called Camps Bay which nestles between the beach and the hillside beneath a series of outcrops along Table Mountain known as The Twelve Apostles. We were situated on a bus route that followed the coast into Cape Town city centre. One reason I remember it is because the road leading into the 'city stad' was quite winding in places and the drivers seemed to relish going as fast as possible. If you sat on the top deck on the lift side, you could almost see down the sheer drop to the rocky shoreline below as the drivers swung the vehicle around the tight bends, causing the top deck to lean out at an alarming angle. The other reason I remember these buses is because they seemed to take an age to come and then two or three would arrive at once. There was a timetable on the bus stop but I cannot remember ever catching one at the advertised time. Presumably, timetables were just suggestions of when it might be a good time to arrive at a stop, or possibly they were printed to give the drivers something to look at when they got bored hanging around at the terminal.

I remember complaining to my mum about this. She responded with: 'patience is a virtue' which had quite an impact on me. So what she was saying was: if you can sit for an hour and wait for a bus without complaining or fidgeting, or feeling like your brain is going to implode, then you have learned something good and noble? Suddenly, waiting for the bus without getting impatient became a lofty goal worthy of my best efforts. I would look at kids my age sighing and complaining and fretting, and think that I was somehow a step ahead of them. I began to pride myself on being able to sit and wait. It felt good to have conquered something so fundamental. Life involved a lot of waiting around and now I had learned how to cope.

Perhaps that's why I became a writer or, rather, why I continued as a writer even when the particular bus I was waiting for (the one with 'publication' on the front) was not just late but hand't even been built yet when I started writing my first novel. Let's face it, writing takes the kind of patience that would make Job sit up and take notice. You spend months writing our stories, editing them, submitting to agents and publishers. You spend weeks waiting for replies. You spend days fretting over criticisms. It's now May, which means we are entering competition season. For the next few months, those of you who have entered any of the numerous competitions out there will have to wait to see which books the judges like. That means more sitting at the bus stop, peering around the corner to see if the bus is coming, listening for the distinctive sound of the engine, checking to make sure you brought enough money for the ticket.

If patience is a virtue, then I think we writers can give ourselves a pat on the back, because we must be very virtuous indeed.