Category: Writer’s Life

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To Market We Go. . .But Why?

I admit, I’m a bit of a marketing geek. I find trends and patterns fascinating. Behind every great or dastardly marketing campaign lies a motivation—a why. And I want to know it, understand it, and pick it apart.

Why did it work? Why didn’t it work?

Some campaigns are obvious from the get go. Take Netflix’s recent adventure of separating streaming video from disc. We witnessed their invention (or misguided intention) of Qwikster. The name didn’t work, nor did there seem to be any reasonable point for separation. Their “why” just didn’t make sense. Thankfully they abandoned the idea before they got neck deep. In fact, I give them kudos for having the courage to admit to their customers that it would have made things more difficult.

Here’s an example of my latest fascination. Honestly, I stood in the mall laughing at this one.

I freely confess that I’m an Apple geek as well. Microsoft’s obvious attempt to copy Apple could be taken as a compliment, but I could only wonder, is it effective? How effective does our marketing become when we’re simply copying what the other guy is doing?

Yes, we’re talking about similar products and thus overlapping markets. Not identical markets though. And then I’m curious as to how the everyday consumer perceives such a clear attempt to piggyback on another company’s successful model?

Of course, there’s the other side of the argument. Why reinvent the wheel? It worked for them, why not do the same? That’s fine to a point—to use a successful model as a launching point. But don’t we still have to come back to the beginning? Back to the “why?”

I find this especially amusing because of this:

The Apple store is directly opposite this soon-to-be Microsoft store and has been there for years. Their Genius Bar and staff have been serving people for many a season with their gadgets in hand and uniformed colored shirts and badges. (Uh hem. . .)

It’s all about service and Apple makes an art of it. Never been in one? Take a field trip one day and check it out. We can learn a lot from Apple’s successful model of creative marketing. To them, it’s not just about the product. It’s about the costumer and how they’ll use it, right down to the feel and experience. It’s all about the “why.”

I wonder if Microsoft thought through their campaign beyond the “well it works for them” to their customers and who they’re trying to connect to. Or are their customers just potential collateral gain or damage in the race to be number one?

So this brings me to my point (yes, I do have one other than finding this Microsoft imitation so very amusing). Do we think about why we are marketing our books or do we just do what everyone else is doing?

And finally, does it work? Now there’s the real question. What do you think?

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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?

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When is Compromise “Selling Out”?

Publishing — like music, film, business, or sports — is not a solo act. Therefore, climbing the ladder of success always involves some sort of compromise, some sort of give and take. Of course, WHAT one is willing to give and take along the way is the cause of much heartbreak.

Writers typically frame their dilemma this way:

“Do I compromise what I really want to write in order to make a living or get my foot in the door?” or “Do I write the story of my heart and let the chips fall where they may?”

There is a certain nobility (sometimes feigned) by artists who rage against the machine. You know some of these people, right? They refuse to adapt their style to the market. They rail against the money-grubbing gatekeepers. They scoff at “the rules.” They chafe against industry decorum. They denounce the status quo. They disparage what is commonly accepted as popular art. They would rather die anonymous than be a patented sellout.

They are [insert angelic choirs] principled.

Sometimes being “principled” is a cop-out. No, I’m not suggesting being a sell-out isn’t. I’m suggesting that we sometimes use the term “principled” as a smokescreen.

Sometimes being “principled” is really just

  • Pigheadedness
  • Inflexibility
  • Disdain
  • Institutional prejudice
  • Lack of professional savvy

Of course, there’s many artists who have resisted conformity and we are better off for it. But is “resisting conformity” the golden rule? Truth is, the “starving artist” is often one who holds the ticket to her next meal. Your “hunger strike” could be avoided by simply seeing your talent as a tool rather than the Holy Grail.

Nevertheless, knowing when to compromise and when to hold your ground is the gist of creative enterprise. Just don’t be fooled into thinking that all compromise is selling out.

  • Compromise is “selling out” when you become a puppet of the institution; your talents exist only to oil the machine, your originality and vision is replaced by groupthink, the ties that bind are actually nooses, you are an organizational prop.
  • Compromise is “selling out” when your integrity, morality, and highest principles are sacrificed in the process; you lose yourself for the sake of success / power / fame / advancement / personal gain, “high ground” is vacated for “safe ground,” your birthright is squandered for three square meals a day.
  • Compromise is “selling out” when your unique voice and vision is squelched; you no longer have any real creative freedom or input, you are coerced into complicity, you cannot air opinions lest you bite the hand that feeds you, someone else holds the deed to your creative license.

No matter how unique your vision, you probably can’t go it alone. You will need to compromise, involve others, solicit others, confide in others, team up, and make concessions along the way. This is definitely true in publishing. I know, I know — the publishing world is changing, you say. The self-published author can do it “their way” (which is code for remaining [cue angelic choirs] principled).

But while the solo artist might maintain creative freedom, they often lose something in the process, namely collaboration. It is precisely the thing that they most fear (other eyes), that they can most benefit from.The self-published author may not have sold their soul to the devil, but the chances of them selling their book is equally remote.

Compromise can be painful. But if it makes my product better and gives me the opportunity to make more of it, then it’s the smart thing to do. Or as Benny G said, “You’ve got to give a little, take a little, let your poor heart break a little.”

* * *

Question: Do you agree that being “principled” can sometimes be a cop-out?  Do you think it’s better to compromise what you really want to write in order to make a living or get your foot in the door? Or is it better to write the story of your heart and let the chips fall where they may?

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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?

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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.)

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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?

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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.

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Love the Reader

The publishing business can be an overwhelming one. We hear so much advice from so many different sources. And to make things even more overwhelming, that advice often conflicts.

So what’s an author to do?

When we have a million voices shouting at us from a million different directions, who do we listen to? What do we listen to?

I won’t pretend to have it figured out. But this past weekend, I attended a workshop at the ACFW conference that helped quiet the noise and simplify the chaos. Ami McConnell, an editor for Thomas Nelson, shared a piece of advice that left me feeling lighter.

The piece of advice was this:

Love your reader.

So very simple. Yet so very profound.

In an industry where the could-do’s on an author’s list multiplies with ridiculous speed, this is the one thing I think we can all agree upon. The one thing that would benefit us all. Developing a genuine love for our readers and letting that love be the foundation upon which we build our careers.

So the question is this: How do we love our readers? There are all kinds of ways, but for today’s post, I just want to share three.

We love our readers when we take the time to know them.

You can’t love who you don’t know. As writers, it’s important to figure out who our readers are or will be. It’s important to be available to them. To listen to them. To respond to them. And when we take the time to know them, to see them as real people with real problems, hopes, and fears, something about the way we write and the way we interact on social media shifts. This journey and our stories become less about us and more about them.

We love our readers when we respect them.

This includes respecting their time. And reading a book takes time. We want to craft stories that make the time our readers spend on our words worthwhile. So are we constantly learning and improving and striving to create stories that will leave our readers entertained? Changed? Edified?

We love our readers when we share a piece of ourselves.

The best writing comes from a place of vulnerability. And being vulnerable means exploring and revealing parts of ourselves that aren’t pretty, parts of ourselves that might be painful. But when we do that, when we risk vulnerability, we’re reaching for a greater purpose. Our words are no longer about book sales and the market, they’re about touching something deep inside our readers. They’re about speaking truth, offering hope, and leaving people inspired.

Do you feel overwhelmed as you travel this journey? What overwhelms you the most? What are other ways we can love our reader?

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Flubs are not Fatal

Approximately 650 Christian writers have just returned from the ACFW conference in St. Louis. Some are celebrating agent/editor requests for manuscripts and are on an emotional high at the apex of the roller coaster we call the writing life.

Others may be feeling like they just slid over the edge and are plummeting down the steep hill into an abysmal, dark cavern. This feeling may be perpetuated by some flub on your part and you’re wondering if you and your career will recover.

Whatever fatal flaw you may be experiencing emotional distress over; it will likely not end your writing career. Unless you actually murdered someone… well, that might cause the ultimate demise of your writing dream through traditional publishing at least.

I’m here to share two “golden lessons”. Flubs are not fatal and the world of publishing is comprised of a small group of editors and agents.

My goal at one of my first writer’s conferences was to do several paid critiques. This was at a smaller, local gathering and I was just dipping my toes into the pool like a first time swimmer. I asked the conference director what I should submit. I still think he said “your best three chapters.”

I should have submitted my first three chapters.

Now, by the time I met with this particular agent over that critique, I had realized my mistake and apologized profusely. Surely, there was no saving my reputation.

It gets better.

Three years later I had an appointment with that same editor. I had polished the manuscript in those many months and felt confident that I had something worthy for her to consider. Just before our appointment, I attended her talk on writing edgy fiction and she made a point to say, “I really dislike when writers use rape as a plot device. Can’t you come up with something better?” My stomach twisted into a glorious mariner’s knot.

That’s right, my manuscript was about a serial rapist and our appointment was minutes after that talk.

I still went.

How do you handle these situations? Here are some of my suggestions.

  • Confess your mistake. Editors and agents are human just as we are and have probably made a few flubs themselves. Be open and honest about the mistake and move on.
  • Learn from your mistake. Don’t do the same thing twice. It’s not the fact that you made a mistake but your ability to fix and learn from it that is the mark of a professional.
  • Stay positive. If you think the agent/editor flubbed and it affected you negatively, don’t disparage them on social media. That same editor I met with twice is still working as an editor and was at the conference sitting one table away from me at the banquet. That would likely be a career ender.
  • Laugh about it. The writing life is hard enough. Self deprecating humor goes a long way in helping keep you sane.

Despite these gross errors in my writing journey, I still managed to acquire an agent and a publishing contract. And yes, it was that same novel.

What “fatal” flub have you had and how did you handle it?

.

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A Writer’s Life

My son sat across from me at the kitchen table with a notebook in front of him — Phineas on the cover, I think, or maybe it was Ferb — and a pen in his hand.

“What’cha doin’ there?” I asked him.

“I need to get this down.”

“Get what down?”

He looked at me and shrugged. Said, “I don’t know. I can’t get it right.”

I nodded. “I have that same problem all the time. Can I see?”

He slid the notebook across the table. Written on the page were three squiggly lines, the numbers 4 and 67, and a smiley face.

“Whaddaya think?” he asked.

“I think it’s brilliant.”

“I’m gonna be a writer when I grow up,” he said. “You know, like you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeppers. I like to write. Writin’s fun.”

I stared at him, tried to say something wise, and said instead, “Well, you have plenty of time to figure that out.”

The answer was good enough for him to accept. He finished his squiggles and then left me to ponder his words.

One day six years ago, something very special happened. My son sat down with a sheet of paper and a blue crayon, put the latter to the former, and made a waxy streak from the top left to the bottom right. Magic. And when he scurried off and came back later, he found more magic — that streak was still there.

And though the truth he’d stumbled upon then was incomprehensible, he’s been creeping closer to it ever since: if he wrote, he could leave something behind for others to remember. And it would be fun.

That, in a broad sense, is why many writers write. To plant a sign into the hard earth that says I Was Here. To know that to someone somewhere, what you say matters.

I had to admit that what my son said was true. Writing is fun. As frightening as a blank sheet of paper or an empty computer screen is, it is also marvelous. It is a canvas upon which to paint a story and a map by which to explore the world. A place where anything is possible.

But I also knew what he did not, at least not yet. Many times, writing is not fun. Writing is work. Difficult, exhausting, painful work. It takes courage to look genuinely, whether into the life around you or the heart within you, and more courage to share what you find there with others. To write is to bare you deepest self, naked of sham and disguise.

It is lonely work, a solitary walk through a land of little light and deep shadow. It is a life of irony in that by exposing yourself to the world, you inadvertently construct walls around you to keep the world away. And though you may indeed be surrounded by friends and loved ones, you know that in the end you are utterly and completely alone.

You write. They do not. That gulf is not easily bridged.

Because for many of us, writing is neither job nor hobby. It goes deeper, permeating every aspect of our lives. Every conversation we have, every face we see, every moment to which we bear witness, is seen through the lens of the page. We play our trade from the moment we wake until the moment we sleep. And even then, our dreams are often grist for the mill.

Success is fleeting. Failure is constant. You are turned away by agents and editors, the gatekeepers of your aspirations, and deemed unworthy of your dreams. You struggle with doubt and fear. You drown in desperation.

You face the agony of knowing that no matter what you manage to get down on the page, it will never be exactly what you want to say.

That’s a writer’s life. And I was left with this one question: was this the life I wanted for my son?

Yes.

Because despite it all, there is to me no greater pursuit in life than the search for meaning, and there is no better way to chart that search than with pen and paper as our compass.

To tell the world that we were here.

Post Author: Billy Coffey

Billy Coffey is the author of both Snow Day (2010) and Paper Angels (Nov. 2011), both by FaithWords. When he’s not writing, he can likely be found tromping through the woods near his home. He lives with his wife and children in Virginia’s Blue Ridge mountains.