The Life of a Book

There was a wonderful and inspirational author named Madeleine L'Engle.  You may recognize her as the author of A Wrinkle in Time and other imaginative and symbolic novels for young people.  I know her as a writer of great faith. In my years of searching, when I was much younger, her adult non-fiction books, taught me that faith, art, and science are all gifts to be used. She led a practical Christian life and claimed that all types of art could be inspirational whether they used words like "God" or not, which I found comforting at the time.  I recently pulled two of her books off of my bookshelf and found something I'd underlined long ago:

The writer does want to be published; the painter urgently hopes that someone will see the finished canvas; the composer needs his music to be heard. Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work had been stillborn.

 I spent five months last winter writing a novel. It is my third one. The previous two novels were self-published. It was disappointing to have resorted to that, but I desperately wanted to see them as a book, not just a stack of paper or a words on a screen. They would have been dead, stillborn, if I'd done nothing with them.  Their lives would have been like my grandmother's novels––pieces of looseleaf paper in cardboard boxes for someone to find after she died. 

I have no formal training as a writer beyond local classes and critiques by various authors and writing groups. However, I've written a novel of historical fiction based on the life of a real person. I had no intention of ever writing fiction again, but it was an idea I couldn't resist. Oh, how I want to see it published. I know this one is better (or maybe just the query letter is better) because it has had the attention of several agents. Some wanted to see a portion of the work and two have asked to see the entire manuscript. This, in itself, is exciting and encouraging. The agents who have read portions of it all have had something positive to say about it, but...it just didn't grab them quite enough. 

I have been told that the satisfaction should be in the creative process, the journey––but no, that is not true.  A book is a part of you, a piece of your soul, and contains, in some way, everything you believe in. This holds true for all manner of art and creativity. 

All of my life I have a deep desire and urgency to express myself through writing, singing, painting, crafts and playing instruments. I'm sure that will continue no matter whether this new book finds life and breath or not. The most ubiquitous advice is to never give up. I will try not to.

Nationalism vs Patriotism

From This America by Jill Lepore:

"But by the early decades the twentieth century, with the rise of fascism in Europe, nationalism had come to mean something different from patriotism, something fierce, something violent: less a love for your own country than a hatred of other countries and their people and a hatred of people within your own country who don't belong to an ethnic, racial, or religious majority.... but hating immigrants, as if they were less than human, is a form of nationalism that has nothing to do with patriotism.

"Patriotism is animated by love, nationalism by hatred. To confuse the one for the other is to pretend that hate is love and fear is courage."

The current president has proudly announced that he is a nationalist at his rallies and we are seeing the results of this now.

Are You Really Pro-Life?

Twenty humans dead in El Paso, Texas and 9 in Dayton, Ohio, dozens more injured, possibly fighting for their lives, all in one weekend in America. The tweets and messages of politicians with thoughts and prayers are useless. Flying the flag at half-staff means nothing. It will not return those people to their loved ones. The current president has vilified Muslim people and immigrants as dangerous, but none of the shooters are either one. None of the shooters in recent years have been either. They are white supremacists who have been encouraged by the president to hate, to blame, to exclude people unlike themselves, as he does publicly every single day. They are people who should never be allowed to buy a gun, let alone an assault rifle.

In church this morning I wept as the pastor asked us to form a circle, hold hands and pray for our country. But God will not save this country because God does not do what we can do for ourselves. So we pray for the hearts and minds of our lawmakers, that they will choose American lives over guns.  Those same politicians claim to be pro-life.

HERE'S THE THING LAWMAKERS: IF YOU DO NOTHING ABOUT SAVING AMERICANS FROM GUNS THEN YOU CANNOT CALL YOURSELF PRO-LIFE.

I cried as we prayed, I cried when I saw my daughter post that she was afraid to go to a public event today, a place where she makes her living, in a time she is carrying her second child within her.  I weep for the future of my grandchildren.

When we traveled through Italy, and someone discovered we were American, their comments were invariably: TOO MANY GUNS. Other countries have figured it out. They must truly be pro-life. They must value their citizens far more than we do. 

I thought this was supposed to be the greatest country in the world.