De Jour List, Day Two of Writing for the Soul

I apologize to friends and family who've been waiting to hear the news. They keep us so busy here, I've been too exhausted to blog. You probably gathered by now I did not win the Operation First Novel contest. Again. Hate to say I told you so.

Here are the highlights from today.

Awesome service of the Day: At midnight last night I discovered that, a) I had misassembled my comb-bound proposal that I might need first thing in the morning and b) I left at home all my one-sheets that I would most definitely need first thing in the morning. I took apart the proposal and couldn’t get the plastic binder thingy back on by hand. It cost me some sleep and much beating up of self. This morning, the hotel’s business center a) printed my one-sheets, in colour, without charge; and b) rebound my proposal with the same binder, by hand. All before 7:30 a.m.

Unbelievable God-orchestrated event of the Day: In my very first appointment of the morning, Julie Guinn from B & H Publishing told me they are putting together a series of women’s fiction from WWII that take place in OTHER countries. They did not yet have one from Canada. She loved that my novel takes place in Canada, she loved that it goes back and forth from the historical to the present day, and she said it’s the perfect length. She took my proposal, invited me to submit the whole manuscript, and said if they like my book she will try to help me find an agent among the ones who are already on board with this project.  Not wanting to count any chickens here, but it sure gave me a needed boost.

Observation of the Day: Americans hang mirrors everywhere. Either they are carnival mirrors that make everyone look skinny, or… jeepers, I am skinny.

Emotional Moment of the Day: Hearing Christopher Yuan tell his incredible story and weeping even though I just read his book and knew what was coming. If you have not read Outof a Far Country (and especially if you have a prodigal family member), you need to read this book. (FYI, the Portage library has it.)

Annoyance of the Day: Speakers who say “turn to your neighbor and say…”

Take Home of the Day: “You mothers out there, beware of your prayers.” – Christopher Yuan

Shameful, superficial thought of the Day: “Oh no. That woman with the dreadful hair is wearing the same shoes I am.”

Encouragement of the Day: my “group” (Jim, Mike, Clarice, Peter, and Kimberley) emailing their support, making me laugh, sharing my disappointment,  and offering to flog this year’s winner for me.

Quote of the Day: “If you are impressed with yourself, there is a lot of heartache ahead.” –James MacDonald

Regret of the Day: eating that dessert. My belly is just one big groan.

Proud Mother Hen Moment of the Day: Seeing my buddy Peter, last year’s winner, signing his books.

The Agony of Victory, the Thrill of Defeat

 .

     On the off chance there’s a reader who still gives a fig and has not heard the news by some other means, here’s an update on the Operation First Novel contest for which my book was a contender.

     Mom and I flew to Denver and found our way to the fancy-shmancy hotel hosting the Writing for the Soul conference. Jerry B. Jenkins made the big announcement the first night, with three of the five finalists in attendance.

      After spending the previous month emailing back and forth, Jim, Peter, and I felt like old friends when we finally met face to face. We sat together for moral support, wishing Clarice and Kimberley had been able to join us. In alphabetical order, they called us to the front while our photos came up on the big screens along with the title and tag-line for each book. Just like the Oscars! (Well, ok, maybe not just like. Work with me.)

     The three of us stood there while the CEO of Worthy Publishing, the contest’s sponsor, waxed eloquent. I can’t speak for the others, but I stood there with heart racing and antiperspirant begging for mercy. Nodding and smiling, I pretended to listen. I couldn’t tell you a word the man said to save my life.

     Then they announced the name of the winner.

     Was it mine? Nope.

     Had I expected it would be? Nope.

     Was I disappointed anyway? Yep

     Was I happy for Peter? You bet I was.

      Did I secretly hope my congratulatory hug might strangle him? Naturally.

     Was my mother bummed? Yeah, I think so.

     Was my mother proud anyway? Yep.

     Did everyone back home say all the right things? They sure did.

     Did I learn some things through the experience? Absolutely.

     Does God still love me?

     Well now, let’s think about that.

     While I accused him otherwise, the truth is, he loves me too much. Too much to let me receive things I’m not ready for. Too much to allow my book to see publication before it’s the best it can be. Too much to make it easy for me. Too much to not teach me patience and persistence. Too much to strike me dead for questioning his strange timing. Too much to let my influence outgrow my character.

     Like any good and wise parent, God knows when (if ever) I’ll be ready to handle what might come with such a sizable book contract. For the rest of the weekend, Peter found himself besieged by other writers looking for advice. He told me that while he enjoyed the attention, it exhausted him. Meanwhile, I felt buoyed by folks telling me how blessed they felt to see Jim and me celebrating for Peter.

     “I couldn’t tell who won,” one lady said. “You looked genuinely happy, but I was pretty sure your name wasn’t Peter!”

     And you know what? I was. And I guess that’s one of the things I learned. It really is possible to be disappointed and happy at the same time.

     Been disappointed lately? Maybe God loves you too much, too. Promise me you won’t quit.

     I sure don’t intend to. 

(Photos courtesy Christian Writers Guild)