Eternity

Allow the tide to flow

Inwards once more

Let the waters slowly rise

Filling the channels

Covering the dry causeway

Finally to obscure the foot prints

Left by solitary souls.

Let the clouds roll across

The clear night sky

Hiding the brilliant stars

Bringing the shadows upon the land

Shuttering the moon's light

Leaving only darkness to

Draw the veil over creation.

And in the morning let

The first snow fall relentless,

Becoming a thickening blanket

Of pure whiteness bringing

A painful, grip of sudden silence

That steals the fire from every

Living thing, plant, beast and man.

Let the mind cease to struggle

Let barren thoughts expand

Let the vacant spaces be filled

With an urgent sense of nothing

And let the deep shadows of the soul

Have freedom to rise, to sweep

Across the intellect and face the eyes.

In the quiet morning of your

Dreams let your spirit ride the waters

As the tide returns to the deep

And like a sleek ship trusting the wind

Be carried away to a new universe

To a certain eternity where no fear is

And love grows like scented blossoms.

Posted on July 25, 2012 by authorfredhurr

Do we modern civilized westerners really know what it is to travel along a rocky road?
I have just finished reading a book called The Friar of Carcassonne. It is a terrible tale of religious persecution and the horrors of the Catholic Church Inquisition in 13^th century Languedoc, a region of southern France, and the famed land of the Cathars.
One very common feature of medieval life was that if you wanted to get from Rome to Paris or Paris to Carcassonne, your choices of transport were few. Horse and cart, riding a horse or donkey, or going by Shanks’s pony–in other words, foot-slogging weariness for hundreds of miles. And the highways and byways were either hard, rocky, dusty roads in summer or icy, frozen lanes and quagmires in winter. Both descriptions could be understood to be a rocky road.

Can I seriously liken my journey in becoming a writer to a rocky road experience? Honestly, I don’t think I can. Sitting in a comfortable study, shelves full of reference books to consult with and now in these, our marvelous times, having a window onto everything through the screen of my PC. A good wife to provide cups of coffee and hand-made sandwiches at my request, a safe environment outside should I want a breather, and even a tender mattress to lie upon should I get overworked and need a nap.
What can I say on this subject?
My second thought took me back to a summer morning twenty-five years ago. Slipping out of the English Lakes holiday cottage at five a.m., I was bound for Scafell Pike, England’s highest mountain. I had planned the trip many months before, pored over the ordnance survey maps to find the best way up to the summit while avoiding any obvious hazards and dangers en-route. I had planned it well. Made a list of all the equipment I needed, and not just needed for the climb, but also in case of emergency, accident, or injury. I wrote a route map and planned to give a copy to a responsible person who knew where I was going and what time I was expected to return and who also would know what to do in the unlikely event I didn’t come back at the appointed time.
The night before my intrepid adventure, I checked my equipment against the list. I made doubly sure that everything was in good order especially my handy fell walkers compass. Triple checked that I had enough food and drink. Had I packed a whistle to raise the alarm and a camera to record the good bits and a pair of binoculars to see what was up ahead?
It was a great day out. All was well. I got to the summit late morning, and there was no one else about. Most importantly, I got back safely and on time, so thankfully the mountain rescue folks weren’t needed.
For sake of argument, disregard the comfortable study and the peripheral luxuries that often accompany the writer’s life. Consider the following circumstances in comparison. If a writer starts out his or her journey in a lackadaisical fashion, then only failure can be the result. If I had started out on the climb up Scafell Pike without proper planning or management or the right equipment then perhaps I might not have returned. I might have encountered many pitfalls on the way for which I had made no contingency plans and thus suffered the consequences.

To avoid the rocky road, the apprentice writer must plan ahead carefully.
A daily timetable is a very good idea. Work out which part of the day is the most creative and productive for you. Don’t fall for the ‘you must get up at dawn to be a serious writer’ jab. If you are a nocturnal creature, write at night. But remember most bad novels were written just after a good lunch.
If you must, put a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, so you can concentrate while you are being productive.
Make sure your ‘climbing’ materials are all in good working condition and you have all of the necessities.
Here’s a last tip. A trio of guys, Dibell, Scott Card, & Turco, wrote a book called How to Write a Million and it has helped me a lot over my years as a writer. Check it out!
How have you overcome ‘rocky road’ experiences as a writer? In life?

Against the Clouds

The mourners gathered in the street and onlookers held curtains
back or clicked the plastic blinds to see but not to be seen. Others stood
at open doorways watching silently. He must have been a wealthy man. Four
black Mercedes, long limousines and a score of undertakers.

The light faded and the sun obscured by grey clouds and the rain, the rain
fell hard and swift. The clouds rolled by heading south into the land of the
living.

The chief undertaker and elderly man himself, not far from death, black
top-hatted in velvet, walked slowly ahead of the shining cavalcade. In his
right hand he held the black umbrella aloft and in his left hand he swung a
silver topped black Malacca cane. It moved cleverly in the funeral manager's
hand, tapping out a slow rhythm on the wet shining asphalt like a beat on a
muffled drum.

A flock of funereal crows circled overhead.

The sleek cars followed the engines whirring silently. The mourners
ensconced on leather seats held hands, and slipped comfort words easily off
their lips to one another. The children dressed in black rode along squeezed
in between the adults feeling small and watching the eyes of living for
clues.

The leading hearse halted at the cross road to let the chief get in out of
the rain.

The driver commented to his colleague 'It's a perfect day for a funeral. I
hate sunny days.'

The last car followed. Not a limousine. An old car, not black, belonging to
a poor relative, it had a little flag on the bonnet flying precariously
against the wind, the magnet just holding fast on the rusting metal.

The limousines sped along the highway gathering speed. The routine of
observing death could not wait.

The route took them away from the clouds, to the dark vale of the north. The
deceased's eyes closed, not wishing to see anymore, headed the way of
passing, now passed away. The coffin always heading forward, not back, there
is no coming back for the dead.

The long line of stately vehicles, the dignified drove on, living souls
contemplating the end of things searched for platitudes to share with the
Minister or God always seeking absolution or instead hiding behind the eyes
of fear.

The cavalcade of black shining cars, the occupants enclosed, trying out just
what it feels like to take the final journey, against the passing clouds.

From stone tablet to e-book

“There’s always room at the top,” said Daniel Webster. But who exactly he was addressing in his famous quote is up for discussion, seeing that he was a thorough-going elitist and excelled at being at the top.
However, it is true that there is always room at the top for those who set their sights on lofty peaks even if they come from lowly beginnings. For example, just look at the history of the Presidents of the USA including the present incumbent in the White House.
And there’s always a demand for talented, gifted writers, with relevant things to say.
These are challenging times for publishers, even perhaps the hardest times ever for traditional publishers. Remarkably it is only one generation ago that books and publishing had not really undergone significant change since the time of Caxton.
We, however, are already living in future-shock!
Nowadays it is fair to ask who or what is a publisher.
In times gone by, the publishing world was dominated by the big boys. The likes of Oxford University Press, Doubleday, Hodder Stoughton, Penguin Books, Faber and Faber, and Thomas Nelson to name but a few.
Now it is more likely to be ‘johndoepublishing.com’.
In the 19th century a whole new era in publishing began. A series of technical developments, in the book trade as in other industries, dramatically raised output and lowered costs. Stereotyping, the iron press, the application of steam power, mechanical typecasting and typesetting, new methods of reproducing illustrations—these inventions, developed through the century and often resisted by the printer, amounted to a revolution in book production.
Today a brave new world technological revolution has transformed the industry. We are on the verge of such dramatic and irreversible change that could effectively mean the demise of the printed, hold-in-your-hand, paper book.
Ray Bradbury’s book, Fahrenheit 451, depicted a society where books were systematically burned. In our society we simply don’t need them (printed books that is) anymore. We may see the end of the printed book in our own lifetime. Like Winston Smith in George Orwell’s 1984 we may need to search furtively in the backstreets and alleys of proletariat towns to find copies of old decaying books.
Publishing is about to take a leap into the future. The word out on the streets is change or die. Those who are always looking into the past are often blind to the present.
We can now read books on our laptops, iPads, and cell phones. It is so convenient. I can sit on train and carry a thousand books on my Kindle and access, read, interrogate, highlight, or listen to any of them within seconds.
Public libraries will one day no longer have books on shelves; instead, there will be terminals where we can ‘plug’ in and download any and every book ever written into our own personal private mini-chip. No matter what your point of view is, such a prospect is mind-blowingly amazing.
But where does all that leave publishing?
We have gone from the stone tablet to wax impressions, from papyrus to parchment, from paper to the e-book. It is difficult to predict the future of the printed book, but publishing and publishers will remain. They will, I am sure, change to meet the demands and the fashions of the times we live in. The ability to adapt is, after all, the difference between commercial success and bankruptcy.
To end my blog here’s an excerpt from Wikipedia:
“Although electronic books, or e-books, had limited success in the early years, and readers were resistant at the outset, the demand for books in this format has grown dramatically, primarily because of the popularity of e-reader devices and as the number of available titles in this format has increased. Another important factor in the increasing popularity of the e-reader is its continuous diversification. Many e-readers now support basic operating systems, which facilitate email and other simple functions. The i-pad is the most obvious example of this trend, but even mobile phones can host e-reading software now.”
I love the touch, the smell, the sound of turning a page in the candlelight when I am reading a real book in bed, but the future is at hand.
In the not too distant future, our children’s children may well ask, “Grandma what was a book?”

But writers will always be needed…
Won’t they?
And of course there will always be room at the e-Top.
What is your view of the changing publishing industry?

Some brief thoughts on marriage

This blog comes from someone who fails miserably most of the time at ensuring a trouble-free relationship for my spouse.  Flowers and chocolates as gifts to say ‘I’m sorry’ are pretty transparent these days, even when the chocolate delicacies come in a cute little box tied with ribbons and cost £1 a sweet.

Is forgiveness infinite just like Jesus said or does patience of the spouse finally run out when you find yourselves in an emotional cul-de-sac?

It would be miraculous to have a spouse who has the patience of a saint; but alas we are after all human aren’t we?

In the area of conflict resolution marriages are like battlefields where both sides believe they are in the right and the other is wrong.  But those who resolve serious conflicts know that there is always a middle ground, a place where opposing parties can meet, shake hands and finally begin to appreciate the other party’s viewpoint.

That’s where reconciliation, peace and love begin to happen albeit slowly at times.

For Christians, Jesus is a mediator and peace maker. He doesn’t just deal with the superficial issues but gets right down deep into our souls where the hurt is, where misunderstanding is rife, where disagreement is often allowed to fester into something bigger.

How do we book an appointment with Jesus? We ask, we pray. His diary is always open to us and there’s no charge.

Queen's Diamond Jubilee - a lesson in humility

It is a common enough assertion in society that immigrants do the jobs that most of us are unwilling to perform even when we ourselves are destitute and unemployed. Speaking to an Anglican priest yesterday he mentioned a part of the priestly vestments that in these times is rarely worn. A small insignificant part of the priest’s apparel that might easily go unnoticed. Yet sometimes the smallest thing has the greatest meaning.

The ‘maniple’ is an embroidered piece of silk worn over the left arm and resembles a hand towel. The maniple is there to remind the priest that he is a servant of God. That underneath the rich robes and gowns the priest is first and foremost a servant to all.    In the Bible we read in the gospel of John chapter 13 that because there was no servant at the Passover meal Jesus himself took up the towel and a bowl of water to wash his disciples’ feet. A menial task performed by the Son of God who was prepared to humble himself at every opportunity to fulfil the Father’s will.

In 1967 the Roman Catholic Church gave an instruction that ‘The maniple is no longer required.’ Do we also carry within our hearts an instruction that the wash cloth is no longer required? 

It is on this day all those in Great Britain and the Commonwealth group of nations celebrate and give thanks to God for Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth for her servant heart towards her subjects over the past sixty years.

Blog of First Pages - A Ghostly Encounter

BURY ST. EDMUNDS

In the year of 1908

It was twelve months or more since I had left my tutoring post at the University of Cambridge. You may recall that I recorded in my journal the extraordinary events that befell me during a short vacation at Caister-on-Sea in the east of England. The experience of coming face-to-face with the supernatural had for many months quite an unsettling effect upon my mind. As a fundamental materialis,t I had comfortably reasoned away in the closet of my mind any belief in the hereafter, gods, ghosts and ghouls of any size or shape. The existence of a nether world which was inhabited by immaterial beings was to me absurd. To what purpose would these elements exist? So much nonsense is written about these things and sometimes even by meritorious professors who, during the day expounded on science, human history and rational philosophy and by night seemed to lose their wits and descend into sheer nonsense.
Look at Arthur Conan Doyle whose fictional hero Sherlock Holmes, unremittingly champions the high skills of forensic science, and robustly dismisses all kinds of sentimental notions and pseudo-magical deceptions; yet Doyle the creator of this arch-realist maintains in his private aspirations, a belief in Spiritualism, albeit after the untimely death of his wife Louisa which occurred only a short time ago. I can accept that the loss of a dearly beloved can lead one into the realms of misguided beliefs in heaven and life after death, because it is surely an assured way to assuage the pain and anguish of death, and the stark truth of human mortality. I read with sympathetic contempt of these situations that drive intelligent men into the mire and mists of worlds whose main currency is hocus pocus and mumbo jumbo and whose chosen language is utter gibberish. Why even the established Church of England entertains such spurious utterances, glossolalia, a babbling tongue in a non-existent language as the dictionary rightly defines it.

Since writing this first page Fred has completed over 15,000 words of this epic ghost story set in Edwardian Bury St. Edmunds. The first story 'Borders in the Mists' is available on Kinde for just 77p here http://tinyurl.com/7yap7lf

Dragon Story Part 2

“Well I believe you mate because I had a similar experience when I was young!”
The third guy said nothing but just smiled.
“Tell us about it.”
“It was just as you said except I kept feeding it all kinds of stuff. I even spent my pocket money and went down to the butchers every Saturday morning and bought a bagful of cheap red meat. I was scared of it so I used to open the door a crack and throw it in to the dragon. Outside I could hear it eating the raw meat really hungrily and in seconds there was silence and I knew it had eaten the lot.”
“What did you do next? Did you tell your Dad like I did?”
“No I was scared to. I didn’t know who scared me most my Dad or the dragon. I wanted to tell my friends about it and all the grief it was causing me but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about it.”
“Do you still have it then?” said the guy who’d killed his dragon.
“No fear! One night I was in bed and I heard a mighty crash from the basement. I got up and ran downstairs. My Mum and Dad were there already and my Dad had a baseball bat in his hand.”
“Stay back my Dad said to me and Mum, I think there’s a burglar in the basement!”
“As he said this the basement door was broken into pieces and the dragon’s head looked out straight at us. Then a flame of fire came from its mouth and nostrils and the baseball bat in my Dad’s hands got burned up in a flash and all the hair on my dad’s head was singed off.”
“Blimey!”
“My Dad shouted run…run for your lives!”
“We turned and fled and didn’t stop until we were across the street from our house.”
Then disaster struck. The whole house seemed to shake and great billows of fire came out the chimney and windows then the walls of the house toppled and the dragon appeared in the middle of the debris. The dragon looked at us and I began to shake in my carpet slippers, I thought we were all going to die. But the dragon flapped its’ huge wings and flew off and I never saw it again. By the time the Fire Service arrived the house was nothing more than a smoking pile of cinders. My Mum started to cry and Dad looked shell-shocked and I felt really bad.”
“That’s worse than my dragon. At least we still had our house.”
The other guy looked at both
of them and just shook his head sadly.
“What about you? Did you have a dragon when you were a kid?” They both asked.
“As a matter of fact I did” he said quietly.
“What happened tell us please?”
“Well my tale is like yours but different as well.”
The other two guys sat waiting to hear his story.
“Like you both I went into my Dad’s old shed and found a tiny little dragon in one of the plastic pots. It was tiny and could barely open its eyes. It had probably just been born!
I picked it up and carefully held it in the palm of my hand. It was no bigger that a small bird’s egg. I looked at it for a while and even though it was cute I knew that if I let it grow it would become a menace to me and my family. Like what happened to you guys.”
“What did you do with it then?”
“I simply closed my hand over it and crushed it. When I opened my hand I could see it was dead. I took it in the garden and got a spade and buried it just by the compost heap. That was the last time I saw it.”

If you enjoyed this story you will enjoy Fred's ghost story set in Edwardian England 'Borders in the Mists' available on Kindle http://tinyurl.com/7sfcvur

3 Guys in a Pub – A Modern Parable - Dragon Story

3 Guys in a Pub – A Modern Parable

Part 1 

There were these three guys sitting in the pub, old friends, having a pint when one said “What was the worst thing that ever happened to you as a child?”

One of the friends spoke up and told this story.

“I think I was about six when my Mum and Dad moved house. The house belonged to my Granddad who’d died. Well it was a big old dusty house with loads of rooms and even a cellar. I was exploring the rooms when I saw a door off the ground floor hall. Opening it I saw a long flight of stairs going down. It looked creepy but I wanted to know what was down there so leaving the door open wide in case I wanted to escape I went down. At the bottom of the stairs there was another door. It creaked as I pushed it open. It smelled horrible, all stale and dusty and  there was strange smell I hadn’t smelled before. It made me feel sick.” 

 “As I was saying it smelled horrible and it was pitch dark in there. And then I heard something move in the blackness and I nearly died of fright I was so scared. I pulled out my torch and switched it on and scanned the cellar. At first I thought there was nothing there but then the light of the torch picked out a little pile of debris, bits of paper and wood and stuff and then the pile of stuff moved! I thought it was rat or a mouse.”

The other two looked at the guy and both said simultaneously “What was it?”

“Hang on I’m getting there…I went over and shone the torch down on the pile and kicked at it with my trainer and then I jumped back. It was a dragon! A tiny little dragon and it was so cute so I bent down and took it into my hands and it looked at me and I swear it smiled at me but it ponged awful.”

 “I put it down and thought I’ll get it some food and water. I ran upstairs and got a saucer of milk and some bits of bread and took it down to the dragon. It drank all the milk and ate all the bread it was so hungry.” 

“That night I could hardly sleep I was so excited that I had a secret pet. I didn’t tell anyone but every day after school I’d feed it and give it milk and in a short time it grew to the size of a cat. It didn’t want the milk and bread anymore so I gave it leftovers. All kinds of food; burgers, chips, chocolate, Pepsi and sometimes the dregs of my Dad’s beer! It loved it all.”

“Then over Christmas, because of all the excitement and presents, I forgot about the dragon for a few day’s but after Boxing Day I went down to see if it was okay. Blimey,

when I opened the door what I saw scared the life out of me! It had grown to the size of a tiger and as soon as it saw me it leapt forward and a bolt of flame came out of its mouth. I just managed to shut the door in time. I ran screaming up the stairs straight into my Dad’s arms.”

“What’s got into you lad? And what are you doing in that dirty old cellar I told you never to go down there!”

I was just about to get a wallop when my Dad saw how frightened I really was. He bent down low and held my arms and said “Come on tell what’s scared you? Something down there is it?”

“Yes, yes Dad it’s a blooming dragon!” I blurted out.

“A dragon? Don’t make me laugh!”

“I’m not lying Dad…I’ve been feeding for months…go and see for yer’self but be careful cos it’ll burn you up.”

He gave me this daft look then went down the stairs.

“Just crack the door a bit Dad don’t…please don’t let it out!” I shouted.

He did as I said, just peeped, probably just to humour me, but in flash he slammed the door shut and I saw him quaking in his boots. From inside the cellar came a great roar and then the paint on the door started to blister.

He rushed past me and in few minutes he back with a big axe in his hand and a hosepipe in the other. My mum looked through the kitchen window at us.

“Jill when I shout ‘turn it on’ you turn the water on full blast okay?”

“Okay George.”

“Right son we’re going down together and I want you do to do your bit understood?”

“Yes, Dad but what are we going to do?”

I really didn’t want to deal with this.

“When I fling the door open you are going to hose that dragon so he can’t spit fire and I am going to run in and chop its bleeding head off.”

“Ready? Jill! Turn the Water on!”

My dad flung open the door and there was the fearsome dragon but before it could spit fire I fired a jet of water straight down its gullet. My Dad, screaming like a banshee, dashed into the cellar and with one fantastic swipe of the axe lopped its head straight off.

“Later we chopped it into bits and put it in black bags and put it out with the rubbish. That was the last I saw of it, thank God.”

If you like reading Fred's stories you can visit www.fredhurr.org to find out more and also purchase his latest ghost story on Kindle at http://tinyurl.com/bwl74cv

 

Blog of First Pages

What is this?

The first page of a new piece of writing that floated into my head in the early hours today. I have written so many first pages of novels that never got finished that once in a  desperate moment to get published I thought I would put them altogether and make a book out of them and call it simply ‘First Pages’.

What is this first page? Well it could be as GK Chesterton once said “The finest book I never wrote.”

***

The day was lost. Even in the morning in the broad golden sunlight something good, almost imperceptibly, was slipping away from me. Like a strange cat that pausing silently on its way across the lawn for a brief moment stays its progress to look in your direction then carelessly moves away disappearing into the thick foliage of a bush on the margins.

I stood at the window staring aimlessly out at the world. I pulled the net curtain aside to see more clearly. I could see alright but my mind was still hurting from the last night’s alcohol. The night before was a raw dim memory and all that mattered now was how best to forget. How best to move forward. A forlorn hope of days now spread out before me, a bridge to the next weekend.

My life had become a slow painful graduation from cork to empty bottle. Sometimes I spent my last dollar on some cheap whiskey from the supermarket and sat alone in the dark watching the shadows move in and out of my mind and around the silent room, thinking of nothing at all. Or I was at so and so’s party drinking other people’s booze. The guilt was theirs not mine. All I had to do was be sociable until the fog descended in my head and the bass throaty blast of a horn interrupted my lucid thoughts. Seemingly endless pain followed. The headache of a fool. The clang of a bell and the distant horn still blowing somewhere in my head and pieces of my burdened soul being wrecked again on the jagged rocks.

It wasn’t always like this.

Looking after yourself - from an Author's perspective

'Whatever we do for a living there is always something that has to be protected so that we can carry on doing it without interruption. I read about a famous philosopher who decided at a young age to protect his mind because he knew that it was his greatest asset as a thinking man. So he never touched drugs or alcohol all his life. I heard just yesterday that a professional singer has to spend a lot of time protecting their voice, their money earner. As an author I too have to protect and look after my body and yes of coursed my brain is needed but sitting at a PC all day can cause serious back problems at times. I do the usual stuff, applying good ergonomic principles and taking frequent breaks, but the problem persists or at least it did until I discovered the ‘Theraflex’ treatment. Linda treated me only 2 or 3 times and my pains ceased. I advise any sufferers like me to read this excellent book and find out for yourself the permanent answer to your back problem.' Author Fred Hurr
Read about this marvellous treatment and where in the UK to get it at www.beatingbackpain.net

Finding a Publisher - Ten Steps to Success - Part 2

Step 6 – You may still have ten or maybe even twenty publishing companies still on your list. Now take a look at their own websites to see for yourself what kind of books they publish. Pick out one or two books similar to your own story and discover where the publisher actually sells them. For instance are they available in book stores or only on internet sites like Amazon. Browsing the books for sale can also tell you if the books are best-sellers. Read the readers reviews etc. Spending time in this area can help build up a picture of the publisher and this kind of research is always fruitful for new writers. Are the publishers small or big, successful or not, new or well established, respected or not. On this last point the internet often has blogs and comments about bad publishers. Read them but be discerning because sometimes the comments may come from an embittered author whose books were repeatedly turned down.

Step 7 – So you have now made a shortlist and want to decide where to send your precious MS. Remember you can send copies of the MS to several publishers at the same time. Better to fire off several barrels rather than just one bullet, scatter guns normally hit something whereas the single shot usually misses the target.

Make sure you really read the details of their submission guidelines. Each company will have a different slant as to how you contact them. Some want the whole MS others don’t, some want the first three chapters only whereas some publishers just want to see a synopsis of the book. Remember to keep strictly to the guidelines or your MS may end up in the waste paper basket. And always send a stamped addressed envelope so that the copy can be mailed back to you. That way you are more likely to get a reply even if it’s not the one you wanted.

Step 8 – A warning! The ‘sharks’ out there often disguise themselves as bona fide publishers. They might look safe but all they want is to chew on your money. This is not saying that ‘self-publishing’ companies are predatory. Most often they’re not because in the case of Self-Publishers you get what you pay for.

I am sorry to say that there are Christian companies out there in the big ocean that act like sharks. One such company contacted me and said they wanted to publish my book but it wasn’t until the third or fourth email that they told me it would cost $18,000 up front. The contract also tied me into buying a hundred books at $10 a book. If however, you are serious about your writing, find a reputable publisher and use your best judgement to pick the right one. If it doesn’t feel right then it probably isn’t!

Step 9 – So you’ve sent your MS off; do not despair if after a short while you don’t hear back. Just be patient, and resist contacting the publisher to find out what’s the score. Most often it takes at least three months to get even an acknowledgement or even longer. I know that you are on tenterhooks but the best way to stay sane is to ‘forget’ about the submission and get on with the next project. If you get rejections don’t lose heart. Some of the most famous authors had hundreds of rejections before someone smart bought the book. Remember a lot of publishers make errors in their choices. The Harry Potter series was turned down by loads of agents and publishers, need I say more. Have faith and keep knocking on doors, you’ll win in the end. The writers who found success are those who never gave up believing.

Step 10 – If you are a Christian writer here’s a service you can use. It’s called www.christianmanuscriptssubmission.com. In short, what it does is post three chapters of your book and a brief author bio with your contact details on their website. The website is known to many Christian publishers who take a peek on a regular basis to see if there’s anything worthwhile posted there. It’s inexpensive and your submission stays on the website for six months. One last piece of invaluable advice for Christian writers is this; remember the Lord is keenly interested in you and your work. Pray every day for success. I found success with an agent and a publisher who were five thousand miles away from where I live. If that’s not the Lord….?    

10 Steps to Success – Part 1

 

 

 

If you are a first time author and looking for a publisher you need to know several facts about the book publishing business. It’s a big ocean to dive into and remember there are sharks. Like any kind of business, and book publishing is a business, there are people who want to make a quick buck out of naïve and vulnerable authors so avoid them at your peril.

 

 

 

 

Step 1 – Write the book. Publishers are not really interested in ideas they want to see proof that a would-be author has the skill, the stamina and the discipline to finish the job. Publishers expect that a novel should be about 80,000 to 100,000 words long and taking an average that’s about 300 pages.

 

 

Step 2 – Before you send your MS to a publisher have the courage to show your creation to someone who will give you an honest assessment of your writing. Don’t ask your spouse or best friend because they are not the best people to give you an honest report. Your local librarian might be a good place to start. It’s a harsh truth but unfortunately the writing world is overcrowded with writers who have great expectations of themselves but have little talent.

 

Step 3 – Okay you have written a book and your honest critics say it is brilliant and should be published, well done! Now is the time to do some hard work trawling through the books, internet sites and writers groups who can aid you in your search and provide professional help and good advice.

In the UK there is a very useful publication called ‘The Writers Handbook’ and it is up-dated every year. The editor Barry Turner has done much of the leg-work for you and his handbook really is a useful and complete guide to agents, publishers, editors and copywriters.

I am sure there must be a similar publication in the USA so go out and get your own copy. I know it seems daft but you need to know your own book, what genre is it and even what sub-genre it falls into. Next get a highlighter pen and work your way through the handbook and mark out those publishers who do publish novels similar to your own. Be meticulous in this exercise for it will save you time in the long run. It’s a total waste of time sending your romance story to a publisher who only publishes science fiction. Read the small print carefully.

 

Step 4 – Having got your list of prospective publishers then check out the minutiae of the submission guidelines. Many publishers will not accept unsolicited MS. So do not waste your time, money and effort sending your MS along to one of these companies. When they say they don’t accept unsolicited MS they mean it, and they probably have their own arcane reasons for this rule.

 

Step 5 – There are many publishers who do accept ‘unsolicited’ MS especially from new authors, in the hope they are going to sign-up the ace in the pack and that might just be you.

Your publishers list may be getting shorter by now but this is good because you are refining your search and with every step and you are closer to finding the right publisher for you.

Spiritual Awareness

I am in the process of writing a short book entitled

‘Spiritual Awareness

7 Astonishing Truths to Radically Change Your Life.’

The first three truths are:-

Truth No.1 - You may ask me for anything

Truth No.2 - God’s new covenant with you

Truth No.3 - The mysterious power of the ‘Logos’ (Word)

Here is an excerpt from Truth No. 1

‘Have you ever had someone say to you “ask me for anything and I will do it.”

Just imagine waking up every morning and your first thought is ‘now what do I want today’ and knowing all you had to do was call your generous friend on the mobile phone and simply ASK. Wouldn’t that be fantastic!

Well having a relationship with God, whose resources by the way, are limitless and infinite, is to have that kind of friend.

But it is not just the relationship with God that links us to the infinite resources it is also being able to speak the mysterious power of the word which is Jesus, the Logos through which all things were made.  We shall explore this great mystery in Truth No. 3.’

I'll keep you posted with further truths!

Spiritual Warfare

Any author embarking on writing a story or a full length novel based upon spiritual warfare must first do his research. Spiritual warfare is an extremely interesting subject and offers a rich tapestry on which to weave an exciting and dramatic plot and it presents the writer with fascinating materials in which to explore ethical, philosophical and spiritual truths. 

It is a very controversial subject and in Christian circles the spectrum of opinion ranges from total skepticism and disbelief to obsessional beliefs that everything has a demonic origin. Clearly such extremes, I think do not, present the serious writer with a reasonable storyline. But the middle ground offers a fantastic backdrop to create fiction.

Spiritual warfare simply described is a range of Christian activity whereby satanic demons are combatted, confronted and defeated using prayer and faith. Christians who find themselves immersed in these battles and struggles are often aided by heavenly angels.  Spiritual warfare is being fought out between two kingdoms vying for power, the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of Darkness ruled over by Satan.  

For Christian writers the ground on which their research should be based is the Bible. There are many and various references throughout the Bible both in the Old Testament and in the New Testament to angels and demons in conflict with each other and with God’s people. The many examples in the Bible provides unequivocally proof that:   

a)     Angels and Satan and his demons exist and do interact with God’s people for good and ill

b)    That God himself and Jesus whilst on the earth, Old Testament peoples and New Testament Christians unequivocally believed in demons and their ability to inflict harm. 

Anyone studying this will quickly find that although there are numerous references and descriptions of angels and demons and their activities there is not a definitive description of either. But this is not a disadvantage to the writer for he can use his imagination, within the bounds of biblical truth, to create both angelic and demonic characters which are both interesting and more importantly believable. Their interaction with humans as described in the Bible shows that at least part of their personality must be human-like in order to have efficacious communication.   

One aspect of angels and demons that I find very interesting is whether they have wings. I have done my research and I strongly believe that they do not have wings. That is going to a topic for my next blog. 

The introduction of angels and demons into a spiritual warfare story makes it possible to delve deeply into questions of good and evil which can then encompass all human faults and failings of character such as corruption, temptation and lust for power, money and sex.  

Of course it also allows the writer to paint a picture of redemption, healing and salvation and access to the throne of God’s Grace.  The subject of spiritual warfare should not be labeled simply supernatural fantasy as it truly is a wonderful canvas on which to create a story that can have direct and powerful affect upon readers’ minds and souls and all for the good. This is when fiction can be used to its fullest and most noble degree.    

For those people who want to look deeper into this subject I strongly recommend Dr. Karl Payne’s book ‘Spiritual Warfare’ which is a balanced and very informative book.