Ecclesiastes 1:18--Knowledge=Sorrow

Much learning earns you much trouble. The more you know, the more you hurt. Eccl 1:18

This verse confused me. I love knowledge. I believed you can never have too much. But then, I discovered, the hard way, the more you know, the more you realize you don't know. Then you find yourself refusing to get out of bed, refusing to remove the covers from off your head. And people get pretty sick of your moaning.

I know from experience.

 

Naively, I sat down a wrote a book. A wonderful book. One to be esteemed by all mankind. Well, as a humorous women’s fiction, a small fragment of womankind would love it. Crit partners read it, I reviewed it, my daughter loved it. Perfect. So I pitched it at the last writers’ conference.

I found myself with three requests for DWF, one requiring a title change, so I dutifully reviewed my manuscript and discovered, to my horror, that I learned much in the years since I created this masterpiece. The book stunk. After hiding in bed for twenty-four hours, spending the next day in tears, and consulting with others, I dusted off my grief, and re-worked it. Three weeks later, it was ready to be mailed.

I looked at old queries to serve as a cover letter. With good reason, no one wanted to take a chance on this before seeing a I couldn't write a decent query. Using knowledge newly acquired I crafted a letter no agent could refuse--one designed for each specific agent.

Except.

Remember that on title change? My mind no longer saw either of the titles. I perfected my queries, hit send and then realized…in one paragraph I called my work DWF. In another it became On(the)Line.

A year ago I would have shrugged. Said, “No big deal.” But my knowledge has increased, and thus my sorrow. A little mistake like I made, in our competitive field, was huge. And I grieve because another year has gone down the tubes.

Furthermore, I'm reading a book that truly is great. What I sent to the three agents does not compare.

While I grieve and worry my failure, I’m glad the only thing that truly matters is God and our continual striving to be like Him. We can study, stay up late, find the greatest mentors, and there will always be more that arises that shows us just how far short we all have fallen from the glory of God.

No Comparison: Lessons from Conference

"Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. 5 Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life" (Gal 6:4-5 (from THE MESSAGE))

Fearless Fiction Writers--No Comparison

At the ACFW conference--a Christian writers' conference , I had the opportunity to sit in my continuing ed session for a grand total of five minutes. Literally. During that time, Karen Ball said, "Do not compare yourself with anyone." That message changed my life.

Revolutionary quote? Maybe not.  But God spoke it to me in an indelible manner. She uttered a truth God proceeded to demonstrate throughout the conference. 

1.  The Genesis Winner. I sat in the cafe with a dear friend who'd been writing her whole life, and she had ten completed manuscripts that had so far netted no agent and no contract. This year she won Genesis--a contest for unpublished writers. Her time in the trenches will end. Soon.
2. The Contract Deal. During one dinner, our emcee, announced a call another writer received--her first two-book contract. She announced the name of the author, and my immediate thought was, "What does this woman have to do with the unpublished author?"  The answer was everything. She received the deal. After having  taught, mentored, served on the Board--after having networked and encouraged others, her day came.
3. The Falling Into Your Lap. My roommate announced to the world after her first conference she had been given a contract with a popular agent. A few months later, he actually offered her the contract she thought she had.  Her "oops" mistake turned prophetic. One conference--one manuscript (that semi-finaled in Genesis), and she got what she needed.

 God sets our lives on a course. Once we recognize it, we must walk it. Because it doesn't follow our plans, because others succeed when we fail, does not measure our failure. We need to be faithful to our calling (and this does not apply only to writers), and in due season we will reap the windfalls.

What are your (no ) comparison moments?


 
 
 

  
 

Life Is a Farmers' Market

Jeremy and his watermelons

I roamed our local farmers' market and discovered my friend April had wonderful blueberries. I bought a quart, ate them all week and came back for more. Then one day, April had no blueberries and only one stand carried any. They were a little overripe, a tad mushy. Obviously, the last of the season.

Then Jeremy brought in his watermelons--the best the North Country had to offer. None ever tasted so fresh, crisp and sweet. Until this last one. Obviously, the last of the season.

I'm now onto Honey Crisp apples. And as I watch one fruit or vegetable I love fade and another take its place, I can't help but think about Ecclesiastes 3:1. "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven(.)"

While we work our lives, sometimes the seasons are too dry or too wet or too short. Sometimes we produce much, other times we lie fallow. However, if we live our lives honoring God, we are like the fruit of the farmers' market. We'll grow and flourish in our season, and then lie fallow for a bit. Don't despair--the preacher of Ecclesiastes has also said we need to enjoy the fruit of our labor while we can.

The prophet of our ages said--what goes around comes around...I choose to believe, if I live righteously, I'll reap joy.

PS I LOVE the benefits of our farmers' market--but that's another blog

Let 'Er Rip: Don't Fear Looking Foolish

Like the soft winds that hint of a distant storm, the happy notes of an indistinct song wafted over me. I swung on my porch swing and smiled. Someone's happy. Then the strains intensified, and I knew. The Singer approached. Without seeing her, I pictured the young woman: MP3 player to her ear, playing music only she could hear. The singer belted out the lyrics in a manner that would have made Paula Abdul cringe, let alone Simon Cowell. The song intensified, and she wailed like a cow giving breach birth to co-joined calves.

You'd never catch me doing that. The more's the pity.

The world would be a better place if we just cut lose and enjoyed ourselves. Because I refuse to look the fool, I lost out on many things in life:

1. I refused to learn the guitar in high school because I felt silly carrying the huge instrument. It wasn't until my late thirties that I dared picked up the bassoon (talk about the aforementioned cow).
2. I never sing if I can be heard--and it certainly brings me down in church and other places. I used to love it, and singing is a cathartic activity. I have nothing on The Singer--except a loss of joy.
3. In my twenties, I refused to run because I thought I looked silly. Turns out I'm a fast runner. Today, I love it--but it took me twenty years to overcome my fear of looking foolish, and to discover the joys of a runner's high.

How have you allowed the fear of looking foolish hinder you.

The Bane of Arrogance

Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Arrogance. Yep, what none of us have. Take me for example: humble, honest and willing to grow. That is until I bombed ANOTHER writing contest.

As I judged the Carol Awards, I tried to offer constructive criticism. After all, if a writer (or anyone) wants to grow, she needs to see her weaknesses. But applied to me? My writing, is award-winning. Ask my mother.

It took me a week to look at the score sheets from the Novel Rocket contest. And what did I discover? Genuine weak spots, which once corrected took me a step closer to making my writing something people other than my daughter would read.

How can arrogance ruin you?

1. You don't see how your writing (or any other skill) can improve. And actually be read by someone other than your husband/wife/significant (read forced to love you) other.
2. Makes you unloveable. We've all met conceited people (no one like us), and to a person, they aggravate us and turn us off to their way of thinking.
3. Ruins your life. Truth is truth. And if we're not willing to face it, our flaws will only grow.
4. Ruins your life. (Yeah, I said that already). If you are arrogant, you will feel miserable when someone necessarily points out your weaknesses.

Eventually, I went through the critiques. And read the entire email. Turns out one entry was solidly good. I was told the judges believed it deserved more than a "too bad, so sad" email. The judges said they would see that book on the shelves.

As for my other work? All criticism was spot-on. I heeded the words...and some day, you will read that book, too.

Don't feel miserable--how can you shed arrogance?

Be Prepared: Step One of House Showings (and life).

 "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour" Matt 25:13.

I believe in the boy scouts--be prepared. If we are, no evil, which is common to man, would ever overtake us. I.E. my house, which is on the market, would be clean when the realtor wanted to show it.

Anyone who has ever tried to sell a house can attest, let it be a mess, potential purchasers will beat down your door.

Friday, while on my way to my concert (pay attention, I played second bassoon), Neil's cell phone rang. A realtor wanted to show our home. On Saturday. The next day. Mind you, we neared Potsdam, a town located about forty miles away. My concert would begin in an hour, and then I needed to return home. That spelled: L-A-T-E.

Fortunately, my house was sort of clean. I'd done the laundry, no mess paved a path throughout my home, but it wasn't move in ready. If it was, we would not have received that call.

Once back in Malone, Neil and I dug in. I wiped down the bathrooms and emptied the trash containers. He straightened his work bench. In the morning I mopped and dusted while he vacuumed. And in the matter of a few hours, we were able to sail off (literally) in our kayaks spying bald eagles, great blue herons and a family of ducks while another family explored our house.

How will our showing turn out? Don't know. But I do know--like the virgins in the parable, we prepared. We needed to trim our wicks and polish off the glass, but we had anticipated the potential of a showing and were prepared.

Being prepared applies to many things. Do you love your family? Make sure they know. You may have an argument before you meet your Maker, but if love is a way of life, the little mess you left behind won't be remembered.

And most important, remember you are going to meet your maker. Are you prepared?

Huyck Preserve: With Bassoon and Inspiration