For the Love of the Reader Giveaway!

I need a tee-shirt that says: I Heart My Readers. Seriously. I’ve discovered one of the BEST things about being a published author is hearing from readers.

Over the past several months since The Preacher’s Bride released, I’ve had the privilege of hearing from dozens and dozens of readers. I don’t have an exact number because I’m not good at keeping track of those kinds of things. But I have tried to save emails in a file marked “Readers,” and I also have a special drawer just for handwritten notes. Sometimes readers stop by facebook or twitter too.

Whatever the mode, I love when readers take the time out of their busy schedules to connect with me and tell me what they thought of my book.

Here are just a few of the readers I’ve heard from in the past week or so:

*Email: “I just finished reading The Preacher's Bride. I loved it....great book! I am 74 and read a lot...14 so far this year!”

*Another email: “I just finished your book The Preacher's Bride. I enjoyed it very much. I looked for your books on Books A Million and that is the only one I found. Have you written more? PLEASE write another soon.”

*And one more email: “I love to read, especially when a book holds your attention and leaves you with a desire to finish it as soon as you can, and yet you find yourself disappointed because you came to the end ... That means it is a very good book . Yours was one of those!”

*A 60 year old woman wrote in a handwritten note: “I just finished reading (in a little over a day) The Preacher’s Bride and fell in love with this book and you as an author. Wow—would you believe I am deeming this one of the best books I have ever had the privilege to enjoy in my entire life!”

Now I fully realize that I’m not the best author on planet earth, nor is my book the best one ever written. And I’m quite sure all authors get readers telling them that their book was “one of the best books” they’ve read.

Nevertheless, it’s incredibly satisfying to have readers share their excitement over my book and to genuinely love it. The more I hear from readers, the more I realize, their pleasure in my book is the reward I truly long for.

Most of us aren’t writing for the money, because we all know there’s not a whole lot of that nowadays. And most of us aren’t writing for the glory or fame, because there’s not a lot of that either.

Ultimately, what drives most of us is the need to tell a story we can share with others. Yes, there’s a lot of talk about writers needing to write for themselves, to follow their passions, to pour out what’s in their hearts. And to some extent, I agree. We must love the process of writing, feel passionate about our stories, and pour our whole hearts into them.

But . . . on another level, we’re writing for our readers, to bring them joy, to give them a fulfilling reading experience, to give them the gift of a beautifully told story that has the power to transport them beyond the present realm.

As writers, we long to connect with others through our written words. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be pursuing publication. We’d stick to journaling or other private writing.

I don’t think writers need to take an all-or-nothing approach—writing all for themselves or all for the reader. My approach is to find a balance. I dig deep into myself for the story that I’m passionate to tell. And once I find that story, then out of my passion, I try to craft it so it that it will appeal to my readers.

That means we need to learn WHAT readers of our genre like. And that takes time and effort. I’ve had help from my editors and critique partner. I’ve also been studying the books and movies that really move me, analyzing what elements are important to include.

We can bring ourselves satisfaction through our stories, but if we’re not bringing it to our readers too, then in long run we’ll be disappointed. The reader’s pleasure in our books makes all the hardships in the publication journey worth it.

Because it’s Valentine’s Day, I want to show my love and appreciation for all of my wonderful readers! I’m giving away a $15 gift card to Chocomize. (An awesome site where you get to choose your favorite chocolate base and more than 100 types of fruits, nuts, herbs, and candies to create your favorite candy bar.)

To enter the drawing: Answer ONE of the following questions and leave your EMAIL (so that I can contact you if you win).

Writers: Do you think it’s important to write with the reader in mind? Why or why not?

Readers: Tell us your favorite genre and one thing authors need to include in order to make the story fulfilling.

Deadline for giveaway: 10:00 pm (Eastern Time) on Tuesday, February 15.

Keeping Things In Perspective

The laughter of a dozen children splashing in the water was like background music to my mother soul. As I sat on the back deck that overlooked the lake, I could keep an eye on my kids and talk with the other parents—a perfect way to relax on a humid summer evening.

The shout of “Marco” and the responding “Polo” wafted over the water. And I smiled as my four year old daughter attempted to join the big kids in their game.

Suddenly, quiet descended over the group of children, and their water tag came to a halt.

My body tensed, and I did a quick head count, making sure I could see all five of my children. One of my 11 year old twins stood with a hand over her mouth. The other kids quickly surrounded her. When she pushed her way through them and waded to the shore, my heart stuttered with a silent uh-oh.

I jumped up and raced to her, cringing with each step. Did she have a busted lip? A cut? A bruise?

Her big brown eyes gazed at me with confusion and horror.

“What happened?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know.

She took her hand away and that’s when I saw it.

Half of her top front tooth was missing.

I could only stare, speechless. Her permanent tooth. Cracked. Missing.

One thought reverberated through my head, “She’ll have to live the rest of her life, all 80 plus years, with a broken tooth. The rest of her life. The rest of her life.” My beautiful daughter, on the brink of her insecure teenage years, would have a glaring black gap in her pretty smile.

I was devastated. Later at home, after the kids were in bed, I sat with my husband in stunned silence and wanted to cry. Why her? And why a tooth? Why couldn’t it have been a split lip instead? At least that would have healed.

Gravely, my husband finally said, “At least the dentist will be able to fix it. And we can be grateful it wasn’t anything worse.”

And that’s when I realized how easy it is to lose perspective. Through a tight throat I said, “If I’m a basket-case with a broken tooth, I’d hate to see myself if something worse happened to one of the kids.”

We’re bound to have those broken-tooth moments in life and in writing—those times when it feels like the world is ending, but in reality we’ve just hit a bump in the road. Usually, after we’ve had the chance to put the situation in perspective, we realize that the problem isn’t so big, that maybe it’s fixable, and that it could have been so much worse . . . after all what’s a broken tooth compared to a drowning?

I’m a passionate person. I feel things deeply. It’s a great quality to have as a writer because I can transfuse those emotions into my stories. It’s only healthy and right for all of us to experience our emotions, not to ignore them or gloss over them. We can embrace our disappointments, fears, and frustrations.

But . . . I’m learning that it’s also healthy to keep things in perspective. When we face another rejection, harsh criticism, or difficult situation, we can allow ourselves to feel the pain. But then we should eventually tell ourselves, “I can be grateful it wasn’t anything worse.”

Perspective. When we keep things in perspective, we learn to be more grateful for what we’re given, instead of focusing on what we’re missing.

How about you? Have you had any broken-tooth moments, when at the situation looked horrible, but in hindsight it wasn’t so bad? And what are you most grateful for?

(For all my American readers, have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday! Due to the holiday, there will be no Friday post this week.)

*This post originally appeared on a guest post I did for Inkwell Inspirations.

Keeping Ourselves & Our Stories as Pliable as Clay

My daughters took a pottery class this past summer. They learned various techniques for manipulating clay—everything from pinching by hand to smoothing it on a pottery wheel. They kiln dried their creations and glazed them.

By the end of the three weeks, they came home with more bowls, cups, plates, and decorations than we’ll ever be able to use! But working with the clay was a valuable experience, one that lends itself not only to the nurturing of their creativity, but also to many life lessons.

I could probably write a book with all the analogies that come from comparing clay to the human spirit. As an adult, my character isn’t fully shaped. I’m still on the potter’s wheel and the master’s hands are gently but firmly plying me. And my children, likewise, are still very much in need of shaping. As a parent, it’s part of my job to continually smooth out the rough edges and mold them into the unique but beautiful works of art they’re meant to be.

And isn’t that true of our stories too? They’re a lot like clay.

As you may remember, this past summer I turned in Book 2 to my publisher. I was certain it was the best story I’d ever written. When my editor finished reading it and told me it would need significant rewrites, I was shocked and slightly devastated (okay, very devastated!). But after a thorough pity-party, I put my head down and got to work. For approximately five weeks, I pushed myself day and night to make some sweeping changes—primarily to the character arcs of both my hero and heroine.

Finally, I finished the rewrites and sent the book back in to my publisher, crossing my fingers and praying I’d finally gotten things right. When I talked with my editor at the writer’s conference I attended a few weeks ago, he’d indicated I was on track but would still have more work to do. Thus, I should have been prepared for the email I got last week. But as I opened the email attachment to see eight pages of notes of additional changes I needed to make, my heart sank.

With tears in my eyes, I looked at my mom who was visiting and said, “This is just too hard. I don’t know if want to keep writing if it’s always this hard.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. I could see her wise mind churning behind gentle eyes.

“I just want to be able to get it right the first time,” I continued. “It’s so painful to go through all the work only to continue to fail to make my story likeable enough.”

“You need to look at your first draft like a lump of clay,” my mom finally said. “The book isn’t a failure. It’s just not finished. It still needs to be shaped and worked from a lump into a something beautiful.”

My story, a lump of clay. I let her words roll around in my mind.

“Very few people are able to produce a polished product without time on the potter’s wheel,” she said. “In fact, you’re blessed to have a talented team of people who are working with you to shape and polish that lump. They’re helping you make it into something that others can really admire.”

And I knew she was right. I didn’t need to be discouraged about continuing the process of editing my novel. In fact, I should be encouraged that I had the opportunity and the excellent help to mold my story into a book that someday, hopefully, readers will enjoy and appreciate.

That’s true for all of us. When we’re discouraged by how much work our stories need, when we're disheartened by the length of time the writing and editing takes us, or when we’re tempted to toss the lump aside, we need to remind ourselves the beauty comes out of the shaping and molding and polishing. We have to remain as pliable as clay. Both in writing and life.

What about you? Have you ever been discouraged by the amount of work it takes to shape your stories? Are you staying pliable and open to the molding process? Do you have a team who can help you?

How To Make The Unlikable More Digestible

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . Zucchini

How many kids actually like zucchini? For that matter, how many adults like it? It’s one of those healthy green vegetables that doesn’t have a whole lot of taste, and the texture is somewhat stiff and dry—except when it’s over-cooked and turns mushy and slippery.

Usually, zucchini grows so fast, you can’t keep up with giving it away. But not for us this year. We didn’t get a single one in our tiny plot. Fortunately, I have a dear friend who grows an enormous garden, and she took pity on me and gave me fresh produce—including zucchini.

My kids looked at the dark green squash on the counter and said, “Ewww.”

"But what about all the yummy things I’ve made in the past?" I asked. "Breads, muffins, and cake?"

My oldest just shrugged. "I still don’t like zucchini.”

One night when they were all gone swimming, I decided I really needed to do something with the zucchini before it turned moldy. So, I whipped up a couple loaves of good ol’ zucchini bread. When the kids returned from the pool, the sweet aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg greeted them.

Of course they all rushed into the kitchen, saw the loaves cooling on the counter, and clamored for slices. With a smile, I cut steaming pieces for each of them. And my smile grew only bigger as they tasted their bread and oohed and aahed through each bite.

“I thought you didn’t like zucchini.” I teased my oldest as he stuffed the last of his piece into his mouth.

He grinned. “I still don’t. But I guess the bread’s alright.”

Sometimes we’re better able to digest unlikable things when they’re mixed with other more pleasant ingredients. Or when they’re shredded up and nearly invisible. We get a dose of the healthy without even realizing it.

Isn’t that true in life? Criticism or discipline or difficult feedback is much more palatable when it’s served with a mixture of the positive. It’s easier to swallow and digest the hard things life brings when it’s stirred together with encouragement and love.

And isn’t the same principle true on so many levels with writing? My critique partner is a model example of how to give affirming feedback. Her smiley faces and compliments make the tough comments easier to take.

Even within our stories, we’re wise to shred up the less digestible aspects: primarily the back-story and narration. As our plots unfold, we’re tempted to drop in chunks of information or large glaring paragraphs that explain our characters' motivations or past history.

Yes, we need to get the explanations in somewhere or the story won’t make sense and the characters won’t be as well-rounded. But how can we slip in the information without it being noticeable? In other words, how do we mix in the zucchini aspects of our stories so that the reader will hardly see or taste it?

First we need to know how much “zucchini” we really need. Our readers don’t need as much as we think they do. The large majority of back-story is for us, the writers. It helps us shape our characters into living and breathing beings. We only need to give readers enough to keep them from being confused. In fact, don't you think readers like to piece the story together like a puzzle, coming to a wonderful ah-hah moment, rather than having us hand everything to them all nice and neat?

Second, we need to add in the “zucchini” aspects of the story slowly and smoothly. For the most part we should try not to stop the flow of the story to explain things. This includes scenes where our characters sit in front of a mirror or window and contemplate their lives. Usually such scenes are static with the purpose of filling in the reader. And we risk bringing the story to a halt.

Instead, we have to write the story—the present story. If we look for ways to shred up the narration and back-story and blend it in, often the reader will hardly know it’s there. A sentence here, a small paragraph there. Sometimes insinuations through dialog and in the way our characters act can tell much more about them than words. After all, actions speak louder than words.

What about you? How are you serving your zucchini? Are you learning how to mix criticism within the sweet taste of the positive? And are you careful how much back-story and narration you’re slipping into your stories so that your reader will hardly know it’s there?

P.S. The winner of this week's The Preacher's Bride giveaway is: Beth Sorensen. Congratulations!! I'll be doing ONE more giveaway next week during the final countdown to the official RELEASE DATE! So come back to play again!

Fancy is Not Always Better

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . Birthday Cakes

This year, for the first time, I bought a birthday cake for one of my children. (I know, gasp!) In the past, I’ve always asked my children what kind of cake they’d like on their special day. I’ve made cakes that were supposed to resemble dogs, horses, fish, teddy bears, hamsters, pizzas, and even snakes.

Most of the time, surprisingly, the cakes turned out fairly well—except for once when I couldn’t get the frosting red enough and the fire truck ended up pink. Oh, and the time our dog jumped on the counter and ate a leg off the frog cake. Or when I didn’t get the dress big enough to fit the Barbie in the center . . . Okay, so maybe my homemade cakes weren’t ever perfect. But the great thing about kids is that they don’t care.

After years and years of making such unique, creative cakes for each of my children, when my seven year old asked for a Batman cake this year, I scratched my head. How in the world would I ever make a Batman-shaped cake? I considered steering him toward something else—like a tiger or football field cake. Those I could do (thanks to FamilyFun.com).

But then I had a brilliant idea. What if I bought a Batman cake instead of making one? Since I was particularly busy with rewrites on Book 2 and marketing The Preacher’s Bride, maybe I could make an exception just this once.

So first, I checked with my little guy and made sure he wouldn’t be devastated if we had a store-bought cake instead of one lovingly and painstakingly created by his very own dear mother. And to my surprise he jumped up and down with excitement. All that mattered was the Batman.

Second, I made sure my husband was okay with me spending $18.99 on a measly 9 by 13 cake. He assured me that he didn’t mind, so I placed the order. When my son saw it for the first time, he adored it—mostly because it had Batman on a motorcycle coming out of the Bat Cave.

In fact, everyone loved the generic cake as much as they’d always loved the special cakes I’d created. And it got me thinking that sometimes it’s okay to use the simple, even generic things in both writing and life, that fancy is not always better.

In life, I’m learning I don’t need to strive so hard to be “the perfect mom” as if such a thing even exists. It’s okay at this busy stage in my life to use boxed brownies and canned soup. It’s fine to wash light clothes with darks. It won’t hurt to use paper plates and make pizza a staple meal.

Sometimes in life we have to give ourselves permission to make things easy and less complicated for ourselves, to know what works for us, and to stop chasing after someone else’s ideal for who we should be.

And in writing, I’m learning I don’t have need to chase after lavish prose either. I hesitate to even bring up the issue, because I think most of us struggle with using too many stereotypes and clichés in our writing. But, I think it’s also possible for us to fall into the trap of thinking all generic writing is wrong.

The fact is, most readers are like my son. In all his seven years, he never noticed the flaws in my creative cakes, and most readers don’t pay too much attention to our flaws either (unless they’re glaring!). They don’t need our stories packaged in fancy prose, astounding similes, and beautiful images. Sometimes when we’re trying to decorate our writing too much, we risk the possibility of overwhelming or confusing our readers and pulling them out of the story.

In other words, it’s okay not to strive SO hard for each and every word. We don’t necessarily need to get rid of every “was,” every adverb, or every repetitive word. Sometimes we get caught up in trying to make the words of our story so perfect, we forget the reader really cares most about the story itself. (That’s not to say we shouldn’t strive to have our stories polished, because we should.)

Robert McKee in his book Story says this: “If you cannot tell a story, all those beautiful images and subtleties of dialogue that you spent months and months perfecting waste the paper they’re written on.”

The point is that cake is cake—even when it’s store-bought. And a good story is a good story—even if it’s not a creative masterpiece. So focus on the story. When we give our readers something delicious, they won’t care how it’s packaged or where it comes from.

What do you think? Do you sometimes use simple, generic things in life? What about in your writing? Do you add too much prose and worry too much about your words at the expense of the story?

P.S. The winner of this week's book giveaway is:  Jeanette Levellie. Congratulations! Thanks to everyone who played along and left a comment! Come back next week for another chance to win The Preacher's Bride!

When It Looks Like We’re Headed for a Crash

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . a Bike Ride

Have you ever had to sit back and watch helplessly as someone you loved raced full speed toward disaster?

Last weekend, our family went on a bike ride through the winding trails and quiet streets of our town until we reached our destination: Pizza Sam’s. Hungry and happy we squeezed around a booth and devoured two large pizzas.

As we headed out of the little restaurant, I cautioned my seven year old son about the first hill we needed to ride down. “Make sure you keep your hands on the brakes,” I said, helping him strap on his helmet.

He nodded and hoisted himself onto his bike. He’d just learned to ride without training wheels earlier in the summer. For most of the ride there, he’d meandered behind the other children, taking his time, enjoying the scenery and eager to chat with me—especially since he didn’t have to compete with any of his siblings to be heard. As the second youngest of five children, he’s always been content to follow the others and go at his own easy pace.

But . . . he’s also not always good about thinking through the consequences of an action before doing it—like the time he climbed onto the top shelf in his bedroom to get some Legos, but then ended up pulling the shelves out of the walls, nearly getting a concussion, and destroying all the Lego creations that had been displayed on the shelves.

So, as we poised at the top of the long hill watching the big kids flying down on their bikes, I said again, this time louder, “Keep your hands on the brakes. Don’t let yourself go too fast.”

Off he went. Down, down, down . . . faster and faster and faster.

“Slow down,” I yelled.

His handle bars began to wobble and the bike began to weave. “I can’t stop!” came his terrified cry. All too quickly his bike veered toward a cement median with a tree in the middle.

I could only hold my breath and watch in absolute horror. I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything. But my heart screamed and my pulse hammered.

The situation reminded me of life and how sometimes we start down a path, confident, watching those ahead of us making it, even looking like they’re having fun. But at some point during our ride, we begin to teeter precariously. We veer off course and it looks like we’re headed for a crash.

Maybe it’s like that with marriage or parenting or a career choice or other life situations. We see others succeeding and enjoying their ride, but somehow we’re wobbling, frightened, headed for a cement wall and a big tree.

Same with the writing life. There are times when we feel like we’re on crash-and-burn course—nothing good seems to be happening, and we experience more scrapes and tumbles than anything. I’ve had times like that, even recently, where I can’t help but wonder why I’m pedaling so hard, why I’m putting so much effort into writing, rewriting, marketing, blogging, etc. I’ve even been known to say on a few occasions, “I can’t do this anymore. It’s just too hard.”

It’s at times like that, I tell myself I made a commitment. I can’t quit when things get tough. In a modern throw-away culture, it’s easy to get into the mentality that when we don’t like it, or when something’s broken, or when we get tired of it, we can just give up, toss it aside, and move on to something better.

Commitment is an all-too forgotten ideal and one that fluctuates depending upon our need for it. But it’s something I’m clinging to. I’m hanging on tight against the odds, staying committed, and praying I can finish strong—in my writing and life.

My son didn’t let go of his bike. He clung to the handle bars, even as his bike careened over the cement median, skidded past the tree, and bounced out into the street. Through the crazy ride he hung on and landed on his two feet on the other side.

My heart didn’t resume normal beating for quite some time, and I made sure I hugged my little guy extra hard for a day or two. It was actually nothing short of a miracle that he came away unscathed. The fact is, most of the time life batters and bruises us and leaves us reeling and hurting.

Don’t give up when things get rough. Stay committed. Pray hard. Believe in miracles.

Have you ever been on a bumpy ride with writing or life? What do you do when you’re tempted to give up? And what do you think--is "commitment" a nearly forgotten word in today's culture?

P.S. The winner of this week's drawing for a free copy of The Preacher's Bride is: Lisa Golden! Thanks, everyone, for playing along! Come back on Monday for another trivia question and another chance to win!

Help For Climbing the Difficult Hills

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . Climbing Sand Dunes

Have you ever faced a situation that looked impossible? Too stressful, too much work, too big to handle? You may have stared at the problem or task and couldn't even figure out where to start. It was just too overwhelming.

I’ve felt that way often. Sometimes I think my wonderful writer's imagination gets the best of me and I blow the situation out of proportion—I see a mountain to climb, when really it’s only a hill. For example, recently, as I looked ahead to the fall schedule, the start of a new school year, and all that I have going on, I panicked. I thought to myself, “My days are going to be so busy, how am I going to get any writing time at all?”

I was seeing a mountain and my mom had to remind me that it was really just a hill. She said something like, “Yes, it looks impossible. But you’ve always managed every year. You’ll get into a routine, and you’ll find a way to make it work.”

Last week, my family and I went to Sleeping Bear Dunes in northwestern Michigan. We hiked on sandy trails through the dunes, viewed the majesty of the steep cliffs overlooking Lake Michigan, dipped into the crystal clear waters. And last but not least, we climbed the BIG dune (that's half  of the hill in the above picture).

From far away, the dune doesn’t look all that big or steep. It’s not much more than a really long hill. But up close, from the bottom, we couldn’t see the top, and it appeared much longer and harder to climb—more like a mountain.

There were several things that helped me in my efforts to climb the dune, things that can help all of us as we tackle the hills we face in our writing and life.

Put one foot in front of the other.

As I climbed the dune, my feet sank into the soft, hot sand. The more steps I took, the more my muscles burned and my lungs stung. But I didn’t look up and I didn’t look down. Instead I focused on making my feet move forward, one foot in front of the other.

I found the same principle to be true in finishing my rewrites on Book #2 this week. When I first got my rewrites back from my publisher over a month ago, they looked like a mountain. But once I started making the changes, I took it one scene at a time. I challenged myself to complete one chapter a day. I pushed myself through the burning pain and kept going until I finally reached the summit.

Whether it’s finishing a book, a project, or an obligation—whatever it is, we need the self-discipline, determination, and will-power to keep moving steadily upward.

Go at my own pace.

My older children practically ran up the dune. I could blame my much slower pace on my four year old whose hand I was holding. But . . . I admit, I just don’t have the exuberant energy of a teenager anymore. In fact, I was quite content to dilly-dally with my youngest.

It’s easy for us to get discouraged with where we’re at, especially in the writing journey. We see others bounding ahead of us and wonder why we can’t keep up. There may even be times when we look behind us and secretly pat ourselves on the back because we’ve made it further than others.

What I’m learning is that we can’t compare our position on the hill with others ahead or behind us. We’re all in different places, moving at different speeds. There are some who have more energy and time to devote to the climb. And others who truly enjoy a more leisurely pace.

Remember that reaching the top is NOT impossible.

There were plenty of others who made it to the top of the dunes, some who were much older than me, and even two and three year olds. I figured if they could do it, surely I could too. The important thing was believing in myself and reminding myself that I could reach the summit eventually--if I just kept moving forward. I didn’t have to be the best athlete or strongest climber to make it.

Likewise, with our writing journeys or the problems we’re facing, we need to remind ourselves that we don’t have to be the best or most brilliant to make it to the top. James Scott Bell in Plot & Structure says this: "The Truth is that craft can be taught and that you, with diligence and practice and patience, can improve your writing. . . The main difference between successful writers and unsuccessful writers is persistence."

Sure, genius and talent can possibly make the climb quicker. But with steady, determined steps, the rest of us can keep on moving toward the top too.

What about you? What kind of hills are you climbing lately in writing or life? Have you been tempted to give up? What helps you in your efforts to keep going?

Working in Small Steps But Seeing the Big Picture

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . Legos.

The favorite toy of both my sons is Legos. Over the years, we’ve set a new world record for the number of Legos that can fit into one house. Just last week as we celebrated my younger son’s seventh birthday, we acquired even more—yep, you guessed it—Legos! (Now we’re considering adding a separate room on to our house--one just for displaying Lego projects.)

All kidding aside, as I was looking at the Legos spread over the carpet, and as I watched my son struggle to piece together 500+ tiny blocks into some semblance of order, I realized writing is a lot like building with Legos.

In fact life is like building with Legos. Sometimes events and problems spill around us. All of the different shapes and sizes overwhelm us. It looks like chaos and we wonder how we’ll ever be able to make anything good out of the mess.

My son had to use the instruction manual, had to have order, and sometimes needed to call for help. There were times when he fell back on the floor in frustration. There were even times when he needed to give himself a break and do something else for a while.

The same is true of us when we’re facing the chaos that life dumps upon us. And yes, I think that we can even apply the principles to our writing. Here’s what I’ve learned from Legos:

Work Small: Take it One Step at a Time

Anytime something looks overwhelming, it’s easy to toss up our hands and say, “This is too hard. I can’t do it.” When we’re trying to get started into a book or are in the middle of editing, the 80,000 words look daunting and messy. When we’re trying to find writing time in the middle of a busy and chaotic life, we’re often overwhelmed and it’s easy to get discouraged.

Sometimes we need to take a step back and break down the problem into smaller chunks that are manageable. When my son started putting together his new Lego kit, he took it one page at a time. Because he focused on a specific section, he could make slow but steady progress forward.

Likewise, I’ve found that when I break my novel down by scenes, I’m able to work better by focusing on one small section at a time. Whether in the first draft or in the editing phase, I’m less likely to feel overwhelmed. And when I’m discouraged about finding writing time, I can break that into smaller chunks too. I don’t have to wait until I have one full hour before I write. I can take 15 minutes. Those little pieces will all eventually add up.

On the long journey to publication, we can learn to take things one step at a time and not rush ahead of ourselves. If we try to skip steps, we may find ourselves with a shaky, crumbling story or a set of unnecessary rejections.

See Big: Keep the Larger Picture in View

While we need to work small, we also need to see big. We need to know what we’re aiming for, where we’re headed, what the final goal looks like. It’s easy while we’re in the midst of the daily grind to lose focus of the larger picture.

When my son was in the middle of piecing together 500 tiny blocks, he kept the big box right in front of him. Seeing the desired finished product gave him extra motivation during the hard times, especially when he was tempted to give up.

We’re wise to keep the end in sight too. That requires that we know what we’re aiming for. A friend recently asked me this question: “Why do you write?” It's a great question for each of us to answer. The surface answer for many writers might be, “Because I want to get published.” But then I'd ask, “But why do you want to get published?”

Publication is a worthy goal, but we need to dig deeper than that. If publication is still years and years in the distance, what keeps us writing? What will motivate us to write once we finally are published? In other words, what is the big picture reason we write?

Because stories burn inside us and we can’t hold them in? Because we want to offer hope to the hurting? Because we want to bring to life the heroes and stories of the past to a generation who needs to remember?

Those are just a few of my reasons for writing. What are yours? And are you working small but seeing big?

Three Attitudes That Can Help in the Quest for Publication

What I Learned About Life & Writing From . . . Pies

My thirteen year old son was learning how to make pies. I must confess, I'm completely inept at pie-making—especially when it comes to the crust. By the time I finish rolling out the dough, I usually end up with something that looks like a misshaped piece of Swiss cheese.

So, as my son experimented with a chocolate fudge pie, I certainly wasn’t the one to give him expert advice. I pulled out the recipe, made sure he knew where the ingredients were, and left for my day of writing at the library (leaving his pie-making endeavors under the supervision of my equally pie-challenged husband).

When I got home later, two finished pies sat on the counter. It didn’t matter that chocolate was smudged on cabinet doors or that flour caked the floor. I was proud of my son for tackling such a big challenge and completing the task.

I bit into a piece of pie after dinner and savored the smooth fudgy taste. But as I chewed, another stronger flavor soon overpowered everything else. Salt.

“How much salt did you use,” I asked casually, trying not to grimace.

“One teaspoon, just like the recipe called for,” he said, shoveling forkfuls into his mouth in typical 13-year-old-boy fashion, blissfully unconcerned that his pie was more salty than sweet.

“Do you think you accidentally used a tablespoon?”

He stopped, his fork poised mid-air. Then he grinned. “Ooops.”

Getting the right ingredients is important—especially if we're aiming for success. And in our writing, having the right ingredients is critical too—not only in our stories, but also in our attitudes. When I look at the characteristics that have helped me most in my quest for publication, here are the top three:

1. Humility

A teachable spirit. The willingness to learn. The humbleness to admit we have room to improve. If we hold on to our stories and words too tightly, if we aren’t willing to see where we’ve gone wrong, if we think that our creativity reigns superior, then it’s possible we’ll miss out on success. There are very few of us who are truly born with writerly genius. The vast majority of us have to learn to write the hard way. Those of us who are open to correction and who are willing to learn from our mistakes are the ones who will come out further ahead.

2. Endurance

We need to have a long term vision and consciously decide we’re in this for the long haul. It’s not a sprint. It’s a grueling marathon. Writer’s who don’t have incredible perseverance, patience, and self-discipline won’t last the distance. But those who put their heads down, grit their teeth, and keep going, they’ll be stronger for it. Yes, writing can be fun and bring us joy, but during the time when it’s not, we keep going anyway.

3. Resilience

We’re going to face obstacles that sock us in the gut, knock us to the ground, and squeeze the air from our lungs. It could be the daily frustration of trying to find writing time amidst the busy chaos of real life. Or it could be the brutal critique we receive on a beloved manuscript. We can’t let the discouragements and difficulties flatten us forever. Those who hope to succeed have to peel themselves off the ground, brush off the dirt, and keep writing.

If we want a slice of the publication pie, we have to stir in the right ingredients. We need to have a balanced combination of all the above characteristics. If we’re missing one, but too heavy on another, we may lose out on the chance to taste the sweetness of publication.

Are you cultivating the kinds of attitudes that will lead to publication? Do you have enough humility, endurance, and resilience? What other characteristics have helped you to succeed?