Police Work and Writing

For the past twenty years, I’ve worked as a 911 dispatcher. In the beginning of my career, I worked the graveyard shift at a busy California Bay Area police department. I cut my teeth on everything from stabbings to suicidal callers. My husband and I first met over a homicide. I dispatched him to the call; a drug deal gone bad. I know, not your average boy meets girl story.

Over my career, I’ve taken thousands of emergency calls and each one has molded and shaped my dark sense of humor and often cynical-quick-to-judge personality. After all, I get paid to judge in a matter of seconds, type-coding a call that will determine the response of police/fire/ambulance.

As an author, the road to publication twisted and shaped the writer I am as well. I can’t help but see clear parallels between a writer and police work.

It’s not always what it seems. A detective is trained to look for what the untrained eye doesn’t see—things like blood patterns, fingerprints, and previous cell phone activity. A writer’s path isn’t always an obvious three-step plan either. The craft must be studied, worked on, and almost never is how we dreamed it would turn out, with twists and turns taking you places you never thought you’d be. My two-page personal essay became a nonfiction book for moms—who knew?

Friends matter. Whether you’re the suspect or the victim of a crime, who you’ve associated with always comes into play. As a writer, who do you hang out with? Do you network with other writers/authors? Or, do you think your work is so good you’ll be miraculously discovered? If you truly believe this way, you couldn’t be more wrong. Trust me when I say: it’s only a matter of time before you’re a victim of un-success. Writing can be very solitary. Having someone come alongside who understands the ups and downs can make all the difference.

Word of mouth. Home invasions are almost always drug-related, a targeted place where the suspect has planned to regain their lost monies or steal drugs from someone they know. Occasionally, it’s a friend of a friend who bragged to the wrong person about their parents jewelry and non-belief in banks. As a writer, your reputation begins as soon as you share, “I’m a writer.” Once your words are published via blog, articles, or any other venue, your branding begins. Conferences, retreats, writer’s groups, and online relations are where your reputation is formed. Use every connection as an opportunity for helping other writers as well. I like to remind myself, no matter how well I write, I will never rise above the reputation my family, colleagues, and readers have of me.

Are you a victim?  I hate to break it to you…there aren’t as many victims as you think. Tough to hear? It’s true. The media loves to play on viewers emotions. As a writer, are you a victim? Do you suffer from itshouldbeme-syndrome? Do you believe every agent/publisher/editor just doesn’t understand your talent? Are you giving up the writer-ghost while complaining to everyone who will listen? Writer-victims aren’t as common as you’d like to think either. If your work is really that good and you are actively putting it in front of the right people, it will eventually be recognized. So, hang in there!

Writing and police work have a lot in common. After twenty years, my heart still races when I handle a hot call. There’s nothing like calming a woman who’s hiding from an intruder downstairs, encouraging someone to live another day, soothing a child who’s called an ambulance for their sick grandma, or the sound of a baby being born. The same can be said about writing. My heart still races when I submit an article, or speak before a crowd. There have been sleepless nights, anxious calls to writer-friends, and though my first published book is far from the New York Times best seller list—it’s been the ride of my life.

What about YOU? Does your writing journey have anything in common with your paying job?

A Writer’s Life: The Pit of Despair

Whenever I watch The Princess Bride, I skip the Pit of Despair segments. Popcorn, anyone? Maybe rewind to the Fire Swamp?

Sure, the Albino with the needs-to-cough-up-a-hairball voice is a bit of comedic relief before discovering our hero Westley is in the Pit of Despair. His future? Torture — attached to a life-sucking machine. His only escape? Death.

Am I the only one who skips these scenes?

As writers, there are days we are trapped in our personal Pit of Despair, without even a somewhat friendly Albino nearby. Life — our passion — is being sucked out of us, bit by bit.

What does Westley’s trip to the Pit teach us? Consider two truths:

  1. Truth # 1: Enemies get you into the Pit.
  2.  Truth # 2: Friends get you out of the Pit.

What about those enemies?
Inconceivable, isn’t it, how both success and failure dump us in the Pit.

When you succeed as a writer — land an agent, sign a contract — you think: Other people have expectations for me. What if I fail? Overloading yourself with the real or imaginary expectations of others tumble you into the Pit faster than the Dread Pirate Roberts can scale the Cliffs of Insanity.

And then there’s the slippery slope of failure: never attaining your goals, never quite grasping whatever spells “victory” for you. The root problem is the same: expectations. Fear you won’t meet others’ expectations or disappointment in yourself for not fulfilling your own. The bigger question? How do you navigate both success and failure?

At last! It’s time for the friends.
Westley didn’t rescue himself. The heroes? Fezzik and Inigo, who found a “mostly dead” Westley in the Pit. But that didn’t stop his friends from hauling his body out to go looking for a miracle.

When you can’t see the faintest hope of a miracle for the forest of despair surrounding your writing dreams, who searches for you? When you no longer believe in yourself, in your story, who believes in it for you? And — perhaps even more importantly — who do you go looking for when they’ve been dragged off into the Pit of Despair?

We’ve peered over the Cliffs of Insanity, survived the Fire Swamp, and now find ourselves at the Pit of Despair. Which have you found to be the greater enemy: success or failure? How have friends rescued you? Like Miracle Max, I believe it takes a miracle sometimes for changes to happen … so if you have any of those to share, please do!

For Fun: The Princess Bride 25th Anniversary cast reunion

Post Author: Beth K. Vogt

Beth K. Vogt is a non-fiction author and editor who said she’d never write fiction. She’s the wife of an air force physician (now in solo practice) who said she’d never marry a doctor—or anyone in the military. She’s a mom of four who said she’d never have kids. She’s discovered that God’s best often waits behind the doors marked “Never.” She writes contemporary romance because she believes there’s more to happily ever after than the fairy tales tell us.

First Contract Jitters

It wouldn’t happen to me.

At least not full-blown.

After all, I’d written for ten years, penned multiple novels, experienced a myriad of rejections letters, sold a bunch of articles, and met repeated free-lance deadlines.

I would NOT get the dreaded-first-contracted-book-jitters. Or writer’s block. I was a professional, just taking a next step in the industry.

Right?

You know what’s coming. My first book deal was contracted on a chapter and a synopsis. It was time to write to meet my first book deadline.

Only I needed to do more research. Read more widely within the genre.

I read 13 novellas in less than two weeks.

Obviously, it was becoming an addiction, all of this reading instead of writing.

I should quit—and would—as soon as I finished the 400 page novel that just arrived in the mail.

Then my friend brought me her collection of novellas to help with my research.

(Why do best friends feed addictions? Seriously!)

I had to write.

So I tackled every left-brained project I could find. I wrote non-fiction free-lance assignments, submitted proposals, started a devotional facebook page, and spent a bunch of time networking and marketing.

Which made my brain hurt, so I slipped away with a good book . . .

Renewed and with great resolve I went to bed excited for the morrow, when I would do nothing but write my first contracted novella.

I got up earlier than usual—not because I was eager to write, but due to the need to escape nightmares about inadequacy.

Bleary-eyed, I curled in my recliner, grabbed my journal and Bible, and prayed it through. The Lord reminded me of His promise ten years ago to lead me on the best pathway for my life, to guide me and watch over my writing journey (Psalm 32:8).

He asked if He’d done a good job so far. I said yes. He asked why I would think He would stop now. I said He wouldn’t. He promised to be with me.

Buoyed by God’s assurances for this new writing season I told my husband the whole wonderful story. Then promptly burst into tears.

The sweet man tried to hide his chuckles as he reminded me I was living my dream—that I could do this. Then he resorted to an illustration that good, non-fiction reading, left-brained, red-blooded husbands turn to: football.

Quoting Tim Tebow, the Bronco’s new wonder boy, my husband talked about going out there and doing what you love because you love it and because it is fun.

Oh, yeah.

This is what I love to do, this thing I’ve been avoiding for the past month. It’s fun.

No more fear! I’m going to get creative and let this story pour from my fingertips  . . .

Tomorrow.

(How about you? Got a “first contract jitters” story?)

Blessings From A One-Star Review

What possible good comes from a one-star review? 

I promised last month that there was more.  That I would explain how the experience of being publically criticized can make us stronger. 

Is the pain worth it?

Absolutely yes.  Here are three reasons why.

No. 1 – Criticism Tests Our Passion

We must be passionate about writing.  We must really want it.  Why else would we subject ourselves to this insane process called publishing? 

Think about it.  As writers, we are either the stupidest people on the planet, or we actually have a dream.  When we count up all the hours we spending outlining, writing, re-writing, editing, and trying to publish (not to mention marketing and networking) we’re earning less than minimum wage.  Throw in some harsh critics, and you’ll meet the ultimate test of your will. 

Criticism brings us to that moment of reckoning.  That moment when we ask ourselves.  Is this gig really worth it?  I have a nice life.  A good job.  A stable family.  Why do I want to upset the apple cart?

It’s a beautiful moment.   A moment when some of us finally feel free.  When we wrestle with passion and look our dreams squarely in the eye and say, “I don’t care what people think!  I am in this race and I am going to finish!”

Boy, that felt good.

No. 2 – Criticism Tests Our Relationships

I need to correct myself.  I actually do care what people think.  Granted, that group is much smaller than it used to be, but there is a core group of people that I don’t want to disappoint.  Like my husband.  My immediate family.  My closest friends. 

Here’s the point.  When we are publically criticized, we learn who our allies are.  We learn who our allies aren’t.  And our closest relationships – the ones we really care about – will likely become stronger. 

The silver lining?  In addition to shoring up my closest relationships, I actually met some new friends in the process – people who came along side me and defended me just because I stuck my neck out there. 

No. 3 – Criticism Starts A Dialogue

Why do we write in the first place?  So that everyone will agree with us?  I think not!  Don’t we want people to wrestle, to debate, even disagree?

In my case, Chasing Superwoman is a faith-based memoir about being a working mom and trying to do it all.  Nothing like hitting a few hot buttons all in one sweep.  Parenting?  There are few subjects we feel stronger about.  The choice for mothers to work outside the home?  Now, I’m really getting personal. 

The point isn’t whether my readers agree or disagree.  The point is that I’ve made them think.  Don’t I want to start a dialogue?

I’d like to introduce you to my Amazon buddies.  Five women I’ve never met before went on Amazon and wrote responses to the one-star review.  Several of these women sent me encouraging notes and personal emails.  One of these women became my Facebook pal, and another started her own blog.  These are the kind of fans writers dream of – all because of a one-star review!

Are you ready to test your passion, test your relationships, and start a dialogue?

Why are we really writing?  Who are we trying to please?  And don’t we want people talking about our work?

The Long View of Getting Published

Photo by Michael Hirst

There are two distinct parts to my career as an author. Part one, when I saw myself as more of a lone wolf and part two, when I finally started admitting I don’t know everything.

The second half where humility has played a lot bigger part has been more rewarding in every way, particularly financially and spiritually.

Funny little thing I’m learning about life is that when I stop trying to force my will and realize I may not get what I want but I can still be of service, more of what I wanted all along shows up. However, to head down that path the first few times took a lot of courage and hope because I didn’t have any personal proof. Fortunately, I had worn myself out trying things my way. I became willing.

To be an author, whether it’s as an independent or through the traditional venues takes more people and therefore a lot more willingness. The independent route sounds like it would be easier to stick to your own common sense and that would be more than enough, except for the occasional question. But publishing a book is a process that requires a lot of hands.

Besides, I was more arrogant than that anyway, running down the traditional path and still telling everyone how I saw things.

However, when I stopped listening for just the small kernel I wanted and expected to hear, dropped any agenda and not only took in the information but gave it time to sink in, things really began to move in a better direction. That opened things up even more.

What if I even followed through on some of the suggestions to see if other people who are actually the professionals in their slice of the publishing game were right? Perhaps my part in the entire process is to be a team player, be open to all of the information that’s coming in and just do what’s been suggested.

Some wrong turns are to be expected and even that’s okay because  the last tool I keep close by is the one that makes all of it okay.

I am powerless over the outcome but there is One who has His hand on everything, loves all of us beyond our ability to understand and has a plan that includes everyone. This is the most important part to me and makes it possible to relax and go back to the day I’m in when I’m worried about how book sales will go or if a book will get published at all.

The answer is, maybe it will, maybe it won’t.

In the past I couldn’t live with that answer so I tried harder to fix things. That just didn’t work and I wore out others as well as myself. Doors closed.

Now, I ask myself if I’ve done my part? Do I trust the professionals I’m working with on this book? What’s in front of me to do? How can I go be of service?

I know, all of that sounded really contrary to becoming published to me too, at first. But I had tried the lone wolf gig and only gotten mediocre results, at best.

I became willing to try a new tack. God is everything or God is nothing and I wanted, maybe even needed God to be everything so I started listening with a new ear. I asked for help and admitted when I didn’t know something. I grew more patient and less ‘helpful’ with suggestions. I did what was asked of me, on time and nothing more, allowing others to do their job without my interference. I became willing to change structure or style and see what happened.

And on the days when my anxiety still sits on my chest like an angry gorilla, I go pray, turn it all over to God and ask for peace of mind and heart. Then I get back to my day, do what’s right in front of me and keep going. As a result, more of my publishing life has fallen into place and my relationships in that area are a lot stronger.

Is it my whim or God’s Will?

I’m often either asked this question or have discussed this with other Christians. With so many gray areas in life—where doing a variety of things would fall inside the will of God—we long to know the choice God would have us make. What’s the best path?

 

I’ve met a number of aspiring writers who wrestle with this issue, too. Many people “have a book in them.” Perhaps they start writing as an experiment to see if they can really get some words down on paper. At this point it’s more of a whim. Some people give up relatively quickly; they find the idea of writing more fun than writing. They never make it a priority, letting other interests in life take precedence. For them, writing is probably a whim.

 

But there are others who find writing exhilarating. They delight in exploring and expressing what’s on their heart, something they’re certain will benefit others. At some point they become convinced God is blessing their efforts, and they want to share what they’ve written on a larger scale, often through publication.

 

So at this point does it cease being a whim and become something they’re just beginning to realize was God’s will all along? Has God called them to be a writer?

 

I’ve heard it said there are only three answers to our prayers: Yes, No, or Wait. But even when we get clear answers, the results aren’t always what we expect.

 

Sometimes when we think God is leading us in one direction and we come upon a closed door, we might think that means No. For example, if publication doesn’t happen is God saying no to your writing efforts? Every writer I know, regardless of how talented, has been rejected in one way or another. I know one writer who worked toward publication for twenty years. How many of us would have given up on a goal long before that?

 

I’m in the midst of a wonderful Beth Moore Bible Study right now, and one of the personal examples she gave included how she seeks God’s will for her own life. They include these ideas:

Begin by making a really specific prayer request. Don’t be shy when asking God for direction!

 

Look to Scripture for an answer. The Bible is how God talks to us these days. It’s always amazing to see how timeless the Bible is; people who lived two or three thousand years ago really aren’t much different, at least on the inside, than we are today.

 

Ask God to help us recognize the answer. Staying in the habit of being in continual communication with God is always a good idea!

 

Ask God for confirmation.

 

Did you notice a couple things? All of these steps demand a certain amount of time, as well as a lot of prayer.

 

I would add one more thing. I’ve always thought it a good idea to consult other trusted Christian friends. With writers, it’s important that we seek outside input with our projects—from trusted and experienced eyes. Is the input from others confirming the direction we feel led to take?

 

So what kind of methods do you use to determine whether your next project, the next turn in life, the choices you make, would be a whim or God’s will for you to follow?

The Write Death

Writing

They raced through my brain going Mach 5. Brilliant ideas and heart-grabbing experiences I felt called to share. They screamed to be captured for the multitude, so write I must!

Lassoing the brilliance and transferring it to paper would be a piece of cake. C’mon, I’m from Texas. Throwing a lasso comes naturally.

Full of self confidence with excitement electrifying every nerve, I arranged my desk just so. Lamps dimmed. Candles glowed. Laptop waited. Coffee brewed. I knew something epic was about to happen.

My fingers hovered over the keys. I took a deep breath and slowly typed, “Chapter One.” I stared at the screen at those wondrous words. Enraptured. Savoring each letter.

This was a glorious moment. I had embraced my calling as a writer! And now…time to write. Let the brilliance shine!

Blink. Blink. Blink went the cursor.

Blink. Blink. Blink went my eyes.

Repeat 30 times.

And then it happened. My brain’s hard drive melted like wax. (It must have been all the self-induced brilliance.) The ideas tangled like rubber bands. The mental beavers built a dam at lightening pace – smack dab in the middle of my brain.

My lasso kept missing. The brilliance was just an illusion. My coffee grew cold. In tears, I blew out the candles and turned off the laptop. Those two words were all I typed that night.

And so began the journey of writing my first book. Thrilling, right?

That evening something died, and rightfully so. Ego. Writing a book isn’t about me. It never will be. It’s about an unlasso-able God who desires to communite to me, through me, and oftentimes in spite of me.

In my eagerness to stand as a published writer, I forgot to kneel before the One who called me to it.

That night drastically altered my writing perspective. I don’t care if my desk is tidy. It doesn’t matter if the candles glow softly. It doesn’t matter if the coffee gets brewed. If I don’t start in prayer, I don’t start at all.

Today, Chapter 1 has successfully passed through the hands of my editor. But God accomplished something far greater that night. He caught my fall, reminded me of His love, and encouraged me to start again.

Something epic did happen. Instead of allowing me to capture the perfect phrase, He
re-captured my heart.

Thank you, God, for your brilliant grace.

Let’s chat: What did you experience as you launched into writing your first book? At what point did you have a meltdown (or did you)? What kept you writing after that?

How Bad Do We Want It?

For years, I harbored a secret.

I wanted to be a writer. I longed to see my words in print. But persistent doubts and fear of failure often sidetracked me.

Desire and talent were two different threads. I wondered, “Am I truly capable of crafting words people will want to read?”

As a mostly self-taught writer, it was time. Time to learn. Time to network. And time to confess my secret.

Where to turn?

Three and a half years ago, feeling a bit Alice in Wonderland-esque, I fell into my first writer’s conference. Upon my arrival, I discovered a very weird yet indelibly native wonderland.

The mountains were filled with beginner, intermediate, and widely-read authors. And the land overflowed with editors, publishers, and agents. Finally, a sense of genuine community—these people understood. We spoke the same language, shared similar idiosyncrasies, and dreamed the same dreams.

But dare I fantasize they would help me—that they could help me—figure out which way to go from here?

Like water for a flower, the serendipitous environment seduced me to voice my dream. I whispered my idea into attentive ears. It was all I had—a simple, naïve, and undeveloped concept.

The faculty was incredibly helpful. Come-at-able (within respective boundaries). Attainable. These worldwide publishers, award-winning authors, national editors, and stellar agents were simply real people. And they didn’t bite! They wanted to help, and expressed a genuine interest in my success.

Words of encouragement and strong support overtook me. Transformed me. A newfound confidence wafted through the mountain air. I really can do this.

I packed my bags for home with a new resolve. I would return to next year’s conference with something tangible—my book proposal and sample chapters.

However, dark storms quickly absorbed this new perfume of confidence. I returned, instead, to the lie of the daily routine. Life as a mom, wife, and entrepreneur consumed my days. Not to mention various health issues that cropped up at the most inopportune times. I quickly learned inspiration alone doesn’t write a book.

Eight months passed. A fluorescent note on my Daytimer reminded me of the upcoming conference, only a few months away. The date pierced my heart. How bad do I want this?

I had found the courage to voice my dream. Now, would I really do what I needed to do? It was time to be intentional, time to register for the next conference. And time to start writing.

A couple months later, I returned to my writer wonderland. Determined now to find my way, I hemmed up my fears and laid out my work before eagle eyes. I coveted honest insight and constructive critique. The faculty didn’t disappoint; the feedback was invaluable and the support overwhelming.

In the end, I completed my first book. I also gained multiple offers of agent representation, found a fantastic editor/writing coach, and secured potential endorsements. That first writer’s conference was the gentle kick I needed.

 

Desire and talent may well be different threads but woven together they have the potential for a beautiful tapestry.

 

How about you? As a writer, do you ever feel isolated? Lack motivation or confidence? How do you stay on track? Have you struggled to marry your desire with your talent? (I would love to hear from you; we’re all here to learn from each other’s experiences.)

Strip down and never lose sight

Crisscrossed with knee-high boundaries of grass, the field stretched far below the hilltop. To the distant right, the sound of a fast-moving four-wheeler buzzed louder until I saw it speed toward the horizon, followed seconds later by a skinny-ing mass of runners.

Along with all the other camera-laden parents, I  darted across the fields, staking strategic positions to capture my son rounding a corner or blazing down a hillside. I hurdled boulders, pushed through sluggish throngs, and catapulted my rattling, aging body from one carrefour of the course to another.

When my runner passed by, I whooped.

I hollered.

I scurried across the field to the next junction to cheer him on some more.

Hundreds of spectators gathered to watch the state middle school cross-country championship. Hundreds of kids flashed by. Yet within that undulating motley horde, I found and locked eyes with my son. 

The corner of his mouth turned up when he saw me.

He gulped more air.

He lengthened his stride. 

He disappeared.

And I scurried to the next junction to cheer him on again . . . until I met him at the finish line, red-faced, breathless, and satisfied.

We’re not unlike these cross-country runners, you and I, especially if we feel called to write for the Christian market. After returning from the 2011 ACFW conference, I spent days processing not only that event, but also my writing journey as a whole. I argued with my muse, re-evaluated my purpose, and gasped for clarity amidst the torrid winds of the publishing industry.

Until I watched my sons race last weekend.

And I remembered.

I remembered running up the hill of uncertainty after taking years off writing to focus on parenting.

Around the corner was an industry professional who said no to a query, but invited me to Mount Hermon, where my heart for Him and writing collided like a flare on a pitch black highway.

I rounded the craggy corner of tens of rejections.

Then I “happened upon” a newspaper editor who just “happened to need” a new weekly columnist.

I fell behind, distanced from hope by whispers that no one needs or wants to hear my pathetic story or craftless words.

On the back stretch I caught sight of the waving arms of a friend who led me to my agent.

I lost sight of other runners sprinting ahead of me, pouring out multiple books a year, and I wanted to give up my goal to publish even one.

Around the next bend, a blog reader commented that the words on my website changed her life.

I coveted the bold, new uniforms of other runners and wondered if I should water down or change my message.

A fan on the sideline told me how a Christian book by a Christian writer saved her husband’s soul.

We are in a race, we faith-focused writers . . . a race to make Him known . . . a race to further the inbreaking of His Kingdom . . . a race beckoning us to finish hard, finish well, and finish strong . . . no matter where we fall in the pack.

And around every corner . . . along the loneliest stretches . . . down the effortless hills and up the steepest inclines, He runs to meet us . . . to cheer us on . . . to lock our wandering eyes upon His countenance above all others along the swarming sidelines.

“Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! . . . Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way . . . ” (Hebrews 12:1-3, TMV)

What about you?

Where have you felt God’s presence along your race course? How have veteran Christian writers inspired you? When have you heard Him whooping and hollering, redirecting your steps and restoring your focus on Him?

You Never Know…

Are you discouraged? Keep writing.

You never know what God might do with your words.

In the late ‘90s, I wrote Blind Sight a suspense novel about a man who was struggling with God’s goodness in tragedy. Near the end of the book my protagonist, a man who lost his wife and two children in a car accident, understands that God is good even when circumstances are not.

Like all new authors, when Blind Sight was released in 2003 I had dreams of a bestseller. But that wasn’t to be. The book’s sales were mediocre at best and, when my second royalty statement showed massive returns—and a large deficit—I was crushed.

I pouted for a few weeks, but eventually realized that I was being selfish. Finally I prayed, “Lord, I wrote this book for you and I’m giving it back to you. If you’ll use it in even one life, I’ll be happy.”

Time passed and Blind Sight was consigned to the ranks of out-of-print books.

But God wasn’t finished with it.

On March 1, 2008, a terrible tragedy happened not far from where I live. Two men broke into the home of Terry and Penny Caffey. They shot Terry, Penny, and their two sons. Then they set the house on fire. Even though he’d been shot five times at point blank range, Terry survived and managed to escape the burning house. Terry’s wife and sons died. Even worse, his teenage daughter Erin was implicated in the crime.

Although Terry was a Christian, he struggled deeply in the aftermath of the tragedy. He couldn’t understand why God took his family or why He made him go on living.

About six weeks after the murders, Terry went back to his property to “have it out with God.” He stood on the ashes of his house and cried out, “God why did you take my family? I need an answer and I need it today.”

At that moment, he saw a brown, scorched piece of paper leaning against a tree. Terry picked it up.

It was a single page from my novel. But it wasn’t just any page. It was the page where my protagonist—a man who has lost a wife and two children—comes to grips with God’s sovereignty in his loss.

The first words on the page were, “I couldn’t understand why You would take my family and leave me to struggle along without them…but I do believe You’re sovereign. You’re in control.”

God used those words to turn Terry Caffey’s life around, and now he travels all over the country sharing an incredible story of grace and forgiveness. At this very moment, he is in Slovakia, sharing his story.

My novel wasn’t a bestseller, but God took one page from it and changed a life. And now that man is touching thousands.

Don’t be discouraged. Keep writing.

You never know what God might do with your words.