that happened to us as a nation on that September 11, the lives lost and
the pain experienced by so many on that day and in the days since. We-the-people
and they-the-leaders have heard and told so many lies in the ensuing years . . . some purposeful, some hopeful, some just plain stupid.
|by Zachary Staines, Unsplash
Turmoil in the heavens (titled by me)
ourselves and each other. How shall we live? How did we get here and what are we
going to do, what can we do, to climb out of the mess? I hear hopelessness from
so many, anger at the political games and the candidates, fear about tomorrow
and tomorrow’s tomorrow.
human’s post. I’ve asked these questions here before, and I’m asking them again
because I don’t think I’m the only one pondering these things. Don’t you feel a
stirring to do something different—or at least to do it differently?
2010. Cost nixed any thought of ones in between, that and wondering if I fit
among CBA writers. I’m merely a Christian who writes fiction instead of a Christian
who writes fiction that’s Christian. There I go, anthropomorphizing books: our stories don’t, in themselves, have a belief system. Let’s say instead that
some Christians write fiction that does more than reveal their worldview; it
actually provides a strong and unequivocal faith message. My “Oh, I can’t
afford it” had some backbone in the thought that a conference designed for those
who write for the tribe instead of those who write across lines wasn’t
something I needed.
begun to believe this was a God-driven discontent. I had no specific reason for it, no
answers. All I knew was that I longed for a new or renewed vision.
Vision? Yes, please.
To attend or not to attend? I’m frugal by nature, and I
hate to inconvenience others. Attending would disrupt my husband’s life. He’d
have to man the fort here, and because my mama lives with us, he’d be in charge
of meals. (Michael doesn’t cook.) I’d already booked a flight to the Women’s
Fiction Writers Retreat in New Mexico. And now I was thinking of zipping off to
another one? It felt selfish. Greedy. The idea of seeing old friends didn’t
have the weight it needed to absolve me of guilt. Nor did the fact that on the
way home I’d be fulfilling a commitment to address a book club.
to be there, as if God wanted to do something in me and with me and for me,
something He could do best if I spent too much money, drove too many hours, and
got myself to Nashville.
friends added to the blessing. But the inspirational messages from Don Maass
and Ted Dekker, the worship, the sheer joy of being among other writers at
whatever stage they found themselves, was so powerful that I wanted to do a
happy jig. The only downside to the entire experience was driving the mountain
road west of Asheville with marauding trucks for company. They didn’t like me
any more than I liked them.
adores me and supports my dreams and sails with me. I have family of whom
I’m immensely proud. I have friends and tribes, and I have the most fun job in
the world, that of crafting stories and sharing love with readers. And I have a
God who pushes and prods me into action because He knows what I need.
with all my heart and not let the enemy distract me from my purpose. I won’t
worry about what others do. I will do—with all my might—whatever my hand finds
to do. Right now, that means loving Him and loving my readers with all I have
in me and crafting whatever story He calls me to write, hoping that His love
will pour through the words into hearts more in need of Him than ever before.
perhaps we can write stories that offer hope and point readers in the direction
they need to go, in whatever way we’re called to do that.
friends to share their thoughts about the conference.
critique partner and friend, said this about her experience this year. “The biggest takeaway for me was the sense of community. I
love the way veterans reach out to people new to ACFW and try to make them feel
comfortable. I love the way ‘big’ authors don’t act big but sit in classes and
learn with everybody else. I love getting to share my stories and hear others’
stories—not just our books, but our lives. I love feeling like I’m part of this
great, godly, flawed, writing, editing, publishing, crying, celebrating, and
worshipping community of crazy writers.”
to shoulder with much more accomplished writers and see your own ‘Ah ha’ moment
mirrored on their faces as an instructor gives us all something new to think
about. So much of Donald Maass’s early-bird session added to what I already
had. His questions about what can make things worse for your protagonists, what
can make them feel more human, what new highs or lows can you add to the story
were exactly what I needed. I finished the conference with Susan May
Warren’s session on ways to supercharge your series… Add in the chance to put
faces to names and seeing that we all struggle with the same doubts and worship
the same way… I can’t wait till next year.”
could imagine I’d do such a thing, but as I headed to my room on the sixth
floor, I noticed a porter giving directions as he wheeled a stranger’s luggage
forward. I called out, “Are you here alone?”
place asking if she were alone? She finally said, “Oh, no, I’m here with ACFW.”
so am I.”
|by Alex Harvey, Unsplash
Give Kathy 20 years, and she might have looked at me like this!
Can’t you imagine her lifting her cane, ready to throttle me?
Kathy Beliveau—who, it turns out, lives within an hour or
so of me—is an aspiring author and a delightful new friend. She and I spent the
afternoon and evening together, checking out the bars and singers on Broadway
(as my husband said, “What else would you do when you pick up a woman?”) until
we decided we were too old—or our ears were—to handle the volume and we
retreated to a Mexican restaurant for dinner.
Here are Kathy’s words about the conference.
Normandie, asked if I was alone….and then… Blessings.
folks I’ve marginally met who I ‘met’ while reading and judging their
support and the lifting up that ACFW conference provides. Reminds me of how
blessed I am. Not in a swamp of my own making but amongst others who
reach out and say ‘come.’”
another one that brought on a shift in thought and motivation? What has been
roiling in your spirit recently? Do you feel the need for change? The need to
move in some different direction? Or perhaps just the need to get busy and get
out there, to be doing the work you were called to do, whatever that is?