My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 15
So I'm face to face with Zondervan's senior fiction acquisition editor, see . . .
She's smiling. She seems pretty happy. She gives me a hug. And says, "I love your stuff. We need
to talk."
: )
She couldn't meet with me right at that moment, but said she'd meet with me in an hour. "Is that all
right?" she asked.
I'm like, "Well, I need to check my schedule."
Hah! Yeah, right. I said, "Okay. Sure. No problem. Anytime. Yeah."
She went away to lead the first session of the advanced track, Mr. Steve Laube went away to teach
his first workshop: Do I Need An Agent? in Laurel Lounge, and I went back up the hill to my room,
plopped down on my bed, and tried to comprehend what had just happened.
It was impossible to comprehend.
It still is.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 16
Describing that moment is almost impossible. Maybe that's why it has taken me a week to continue
telling this story. I've experienced many special moments in my life—God has repeatedly
confirmed His work in me. I'll tell you about some of those confirming moments later. But right
now, just let me say this. At that moment, April 2nd, 2004, in my room at the Mount Hermon
Christian Writers Conference, I could only look at Him, hold out my hands, and shake my head. I
didn't have a clue what lay ahead. But I knew it was huge. I asked Him, "Why me? Who am I,
Lord?" I blubbered before Him, totally swept away in the moment. But I knew I could trust Him. I
knew I would trust Him. And at that moment, that was all I needed to know.
A few minutes later, after splashing cold water on my face to wash away my tears, I walked back
down the hill toward the auditorium, found a quiet spot, and waited for Karen Ball to find me, to sit
beside me, and to let me know what happened next.
My heart was pounding. I prayed it wouldn't give out. It would be a bummer if Zondervan had to
publish my novel posthumously. I knew my Savior stood beside me. He wouldn't let me keel over
and die. So we just waited together. Basking in the moment.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 17
So. I'm sitting there. We're sitting there. The workshops let out. People start milling around the
beautiful open area by the auditorium. And I see her. She sees me. Heads my way. Sits beside
me. Beside us. ; )
We talk. Well, she talks. I listen. She says, "You need to understand that Zondervan is fully
acquired through 2007. Your book won't be released until 2008. That's how far ahead we are. Is
that all right?"
I'm like, "Yeah. I guess. That'll give me plenty of time to write the rest of the books in the series."
I flash her a sheepish grin.
She laughs.
She says, "We usually ask new authors to sign a two-book contract."
I say, "Okay."
We talk another few minutes. Any question she asks, I say, "Okay." I end up saying, "Okay," a lot.
I tell her I also submitted a proposal to Becky Nesbitt at Tyndale. Karen says, "Just tell her you're
already taken."
: )
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 18
One thing was for sure. The conference suddenly took on a whole new spin for me. Maybe it was
the universe. I don't know. Something began to spin at that moment, and I'm spinning even still.
Not long after talking with Karen Ball, I met Steve Laube. You know. The agent who had just
taught the workshop Do I Need An Agent? in Laurel Lounge? As it turned out, I did. And he said,
"I'll be your agent."
Six and a half hours after arriving at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference—because I
asked myself two months before, "Can you afford not to go?", then because I asked, "Why not?" and
submitted twelve pages of my novel's first chapter ahead of time—I had gained the eye of a senior
acquisitions editor at a major Christian publishing house, had her assurance a two-book contract
would soon be in the works, had three years to refine my stories to make them the best they could
be, and had the most experienced former book seller/former editor/now agent in the Christian
publishing industry wanting to be my agent.
Spin. And spin and spin and spin and spin. Hands raised to heaven. Dizzy and overwhelmed and
overcome with . . .
Thank You, Lord.
You may think this is the end of the story. It's not. Believe me.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 19
I keep a small hand-held tape recorder with me wherever I go. They say if you don't record your
great ideas within 37 seconds of their arrival into your brainpan, you'll forget them, and they will
never return. I believe it. Hence, the recorder. Since September '03, I've already worn out one.
When I bought the new one, I also bought the extended service plan. This new one will last at least
two years. Guaranteed.
Anyway, yes. I had my recorder with me last year when I went to Mount Hermon. I had no idea
when I tossed it into my bag what amazing things I would soon record into it. That first day of the
conference was pretty amazing. But the next day? Wow.
Remember I said that I had signed up for the 8-hour fiction critique and mentoring track? That I had
received twelve novel excerpts from the others in the class, and that I had critiqued them and was
prepared to share my feedback with them? Well, they had received my stuff, too. The same stuff I
sent to Karen Ball from Zondervan and Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale House. And ten more pages of
it.
That first night, April 2nd, 2004, lying in bed trying to fall asleep after my unbelievable first day at
the conference, it dawned on me. Tomorrow, or in the next few days for sure, twelve of my fellow
novel writers and our professional mentor, Gayle Roper, would go around the table and give me
their critique and feedback on the first chapter of my novel.
Nervousness slid into my stomach just at the thought of it. I usually love critique sessions, but they
can sometimes be brutal. That night, I remember lying there thinking about my fellow novel
writers, about my soon-upcoming critique session, then thinking, Oh, Lord. I hope they liked my
stuff! What if they didn't like my stuff?
The very next morning, right after breakfast, I found out what they thought.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 20
And I mean the very next morning. Right after breakfast, the mentoring class met for the first time.
Gayle Roper (who is very cool, by the way) passed around a paper bag and asked all of us to pull
out a slip of paper with a number on it. That would determine what order we would receive our
critiques—aka, sit on the hot seat. Well, yes. I know, dear reader, you are pretty smart and have
already figured out that I picked the very slip of paper with the number 1 clearly written on it.
Hmm. I said to Gayle, "This could be a 7 . . . or an 11 that's just missing a 1 . . ."
She didn't think that was possible. Or very funny.
So. Me. Numero Uno. Fine. Get it over with. In a good way, of course.
But being first to go also presented me with a totally different dilemma. Remember what happened
yesterday? How my total universe suddenly turned on a dime? Well, I was hoping to have a little
more time to figure out a way to tell my fellow novelists and classmates in this fiction mentoring
track. I was hoping to maybe go last, and then to say, "And by the way, friends . . ."
Nope. I was first. On the first full day of the conference. When everyone around me hoped and
prayed to receive the same news I had received just a few hours before.
My dilemma? I needed to share my good news with all of these people, to not only encourage them
on their quest, but to honor the Lord by being a witness of how perfect His timing is. But . . . how?
Yes, we were all Christians sitting around that table, but still. I didn't want to sound . . . well, I
hope you can understand what I'm trying to say, because it's hard to explain. The truth is, I didn't
tell anyone in the group on that very first minute of the class, mostly and simply because I didn't
know how. I sat and listened for almost 45 minutes to all of their great suggestions and comments
(and, yes, some didn't care for my stuff as much as I would have hoped), but the entire time I
couldn't help thinking, Maybe I should just wait and hear what Karen Ball has to say.
To be fair to the group, and you know who you are (I love you guys!), they did give me some
excellent ideas for improving the first chapter before I sent it to Karen. There was this little thing
about the knife sticking out of Chris's side, and "Just how dark was it? Here it's just getting dark,
and here it's pitch black, then here it's twilight!" Little Dumb Things. LDTs. That are so
important. Thanks to everyone in the group, most of the LDTs were attended to so Karen didn't
have to see them. Whew! Thanks, you guys!!
An interesting side note: At the very end of my "hot seat session," Gayle mentioned something
about wondering if Chris (my book's main character) could stand living in a city like Portland after
living in the Rocky Mountains in the splendor of the open wilderness. She seemed very concerned
about this, which, I realized later, was so cool, because this question makes up most of the tension
of the second book in the Homeland Heroes Series. At the time, I didn't even know how book two
was going to play out. But hey. I had years to worry about that, right?
Hah!
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 21
One nice thing about going first in a massive critique group like this one is, well, once your turn on
the hot seat has passed, that's it. You can sit back on a regular chair and enjoy watching everyone
else take their turn. Nah, it wasn't like that. We were a Christian group, and everyone offered
everyone else some really terrific ideas to improve their stuff. It actually turned out to be great
fun. I can't wait to see how many in the group return to the conference this year. It would be great
to see them all again.
Anyway, so, well, my critique session was over, and then the class was over, and so I headed
down to the manuscript retrieval center just to see if Becky Nesbitt had finished reading my
proposal and had turned it in. I was positive I wanted to go with Karen and Zondervan, but I was
curious, just the same. Well, Becky wasn't finished with my stuff, so I had nothing to retrieve that
morning. But as I turned around, there stood Karen Ball.
Let me just say, at this point, if Karen Ball is in a room, she's hard to miss. Yes, she has short,
sometimes spikey reddish brown hair, but that's not what draws you to her. It's her smile. She has
a very cool smile, and is very rarely seen without it.
Anyway, there she is, and she sees me. We talk a bit. She tells me that she just had a "walk and
talk" with Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale House. She tells me that Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale
House also wants to acquire my stuff.
Hmm. After my initial thought, Lord, I can't believe all this!, the phrase "bidding war" fluttered
through my mind.
But hey. When I heard that fluttering phrase, I sent it right back out where it came from. I just knew
Zondervan was it. Karen was it. She had led the devotional time earlier that morning and,
watching her share the Word, hearing her sing, seeing her heart . . . well, I just knew, okay? : )
Anyway, she asked me how my critique class went. I told her I was numero uno, and had just spent
my time on the spot. I kind of looked down and shook my head. I told her the class didn't really
think much of my short, choppy sentences, or of my main character's response to danger, or of . . .
I glanced up. Karen was shaking her head.
And they also didn't care much for some of my word choices, and really hated this one sentence.
They actually called it "convoluted." "But," I said to Karen, "I couldn't help thinking as they were
telling me these things that maybe I should wait to hear what Karen Ball had to say."
Her head started bobbing up and down.
Yeah. I thought that sounded like a plan.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 22
I can't believe there are 22 parts to this so far. Though, I'll admit, I am stretching things out a bit for
dramatic purposes, the truth is, I guess I just plain had some fun last year, and I'm having way too
much fun this year sharing it all with you. Hope it's fun for you, too. Remember, the comment line
is open!
Margaret Becker just sang Poor in Paradise. That song gives me chills. And the one before it: All
That's Left. And the one before that! One More Reason. I love the line in that one: "If there's
another love that's better, I just don't want to see. 'Cause I'm planning my forever all around You
and me. And that's one more reason . . ."
I think that's copyright infringement, but I don't care. : )
Anyway, back to my Mount Hermon adventures . . .
So. Free of the hot seat, I spent the rest of the first day of the conference in this state of . . . ahhhhh.
When I first planned what workshops I wanted to take (before everything turned on a dime), the list
included: of course, the infamous, Do I Need An Agent? workshop, and others like What Editors
Want, Getting Noticed in a Saturated Market, Becoming Your Own Best Editor, Troubleshooting
Your Unsold Novel . . . stuff like that. Well, after the dime incident, I changed my list to include
such workshops as: Contracts and Negotiations, The Author/Publisher Partnership, and How To
Market Your Book.
My conference had turned. My life had turned. And a dime is a pretty small critter. Have you ever
realized just how small a dime really is?
: )
To be continued . . .
So I'm face to face with Zondervan's senior fiction acquisition editor, see . . .
She's smiling. She seems pretty happy. She gives me a hug. And says, "I love your stuff. We need
to talk."
: )
She couldn't meet with me right at that moment, but said she'd meet with me in an hour. "Is that all
right?" she asked.
I'm like, "Well, I need to check my schedule."
Hah! Yeah, right. I said, "Okay. Sure. No problem. Anytime. Yeah."
She went away to lead the first session of the advanced track, Mr. Steve Laube went away to teach
his first workshop: Do I Need An Agent? in Laurel Lounge, and I went back up the hill to my room,
plopped down on my bed, and tried to comprehend what had just happened.
It was impossible to comprehend.
It still is.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 16
Describing that moment is almost impossible. Maybe that's why it has taken me a week to continue
telling this story. I've experienced many special moments in my life—God has repeatedly
confirmed His work in me. I'll tell you about some of those confirming moments later. But right
now, just let me say this. At that moment, April 2nd, 2004, in my room at the Mount Hermon
Christian Writers Conference, I could only look at Him, hold out my hands, and shake my head. I
didn't have a clue what lay ahead. But I knew it was huge. I asked Him, "Why me? Who am I,
Lord?" I blubbered before Him, totally swept away in the moment. But I knew I could trust Him. I
knew I would trust Him. And at that moment, that was all I needed to know.
A few minutes later, after splashing cold water on my face to wash away my tears, I walked back
down the hill toward the auditorium, found a quiet spot, and waited for Karen Ball to find me, to sit
beside me, and to let me know what happened next.
My heart was pounding. I prayed it wouldn't give out. It would be a bummer if Zondervan had to
publish my novel posthumously. I knew my Savior stood beside me. He wouldn't let me keel over
and die. So we just waited together. Basking in the moment.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 17
So. I'm sitting there. We're sitting there. The workshops let out. People start milling around the
beautiful open area by the auditorium. And I see her. She sees me. Heads my way. Sits beside
me. Beside us. ; )
We talk. Well, she talks. I listen. She says, "You need to understand that Zondervan is fully
acquired through 2007. Your book won't be released until 2008. That's how far ahead we are. Is
that all right?"
I'm like, "Yeah. I guess. That'll give me plenty of time to write the rest of the books in the series."
I flash her a sheepish grin.
She laughs.
She says, "We usually ask new authors to sign a two-book contract."
I say, "Okay."
We talk another few minutes. Any question she asks, I say, "Okay." I end up saying, "Okay," a lot.
I tell her I also submitted a proposal to Becky Nesbitt at Tyndale. Karen says, "Just tell her you're
already taken."
: )
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 18
One thing was for sure. The conference suddenly took on a whole new spin for me. Maybe it was
the universe. I don't know. Something began to spin at that moment, and I'm spinning even still.
Not long after talking with Karen Ball, I met Steve Laube. You know. The agent who had just
taught the workshop Do I Need An Agent? in Laurel Lounge? As it turned out, I did. And he said,
"I'll be your agent."
Six and a half hours after arriving at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference—because I
asked myself two months before, "Can you afford not to go?", then because I asked, "Why not?" and
submitted twelve pages of my novel's first chapter ahead of time—I had gained the eye of a senior
acquisitions editor at a major Christian publishing house, had her assurance a two-book contract
would soon be in the works, had three years to refine my stories to make them the best they could
be, and had the most experienced former book seller/former editor/now agent in the Christian
publishing industry wanting to be my agent.
Spin. And spin and spin and spin and spin. Hands raised to heaven. Dizzy and overwhelmed and
overcome with . . .
Thank You, Lord.
You may think this is the end of the story. It's not. Believe me.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 19
I keep a small hand-held tape recorder with me wherever I go. They say if you don't record your
great ideas within 37 seconds of their arrival into your brainpan, you'll forget them, and they will
never return. I believe it. Hence, the recorder. Since September '03, I've already worn out one.
When I bought the new one, I also bought the extended service plan. This new one will last at least
two years. Guaranteed.
Anyway, yes. I had my recorder with me last year when I went to Mount Hermon. I had no idea
when I tossed it into my bag what amazing things I would soon record into it. That first day of the
conference was pretty amazing. But the next day? Wow.
Remember I said that I had signed up for the 8-hour fiction critique and mentoring track? That I had
received twelve novel excerpts from the others in the class, and that I had critiqued them and was
prepared to share my feedback with them? Well, they had received my stuff, too. The same stuff I
sent to Karen Ball from Zondervan and Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale House. And ten more pages of
it.
That first night, April 2nd, 2004, lying in bed trying to fall asleep after my unbelievable first day at
the conference, it dawned on me. Tomorrow, or in the next few days for sure, twelve of my fellow
novel writers and our professional mentor, Gayle Roper, would go around the table and give me
their critique and feedback on the first chapter of my novel.
Nervousness slid into my stomach just at the thought of it. I usually love critique sessions, but they
can sometimes be brutal. That night, I remember lying there thinking about my fellow novel
writers, about my soon-upcoming critique session, then thinking, Oh, Lord. I hope they liked my
stuff! What if they didn't like my stuff?
The very next morning, right after breakfast, I found out what they thought.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 20
And I mean the very next morning. Right after breakfast, the mentoring class met for the first time.
Gayle Roper (who is very cool, by the way) passed around a paper bag and asked all of us to pull
out a slip of paper with a number on it. That would determine what order we would receive our
critiques—aka, sit on the hot seat. Well, yes. I know, dear reader, you are pretty smart and have
already figured out that I picked the very slip of paper with the number 1 clearly written on it.
Hmm. I said to Gayle, "This could be a 7 . . . or an 11 that's just missing a 1 . . ."
She didn't think that was possible. Or very funny.
So. Me. Numero Uno. Fine. Get it over with. In a good way, of course.
But being first to go also presented me with a totally different dilemma. Remember what happened
yesterday? How my total universe suddenly turned on a dime? Well, I was hoping to have a little
more time to figure out a way to tell my fellow novelists and classmates in this fiction mentoring
track. I was hoping to maybe go last, and then to say, "And by the way, friends . . ."
Nope. I was first. On the first full day of the conference. When everyone around me hoped and
prayed to receive the same news I had received just a few hours before.
My dilemma? I needed to share my good news with all of these people, to not only encourage them
on their quest, but to honor the Lord by being a witness of how perfect His timing is. But . . . how?
Yes, we were all Christians sitting around that table, but still. I didn't want to sound . . . well, I
hope you can understand what I'm trying to say, because it's hard to explain. The truth is, I didn't
tell anyone in the group on that very first minute of the class, mostly and simply because I didn't
know how. I sat and listened for almost 45 minutes to all of their great suggestions and comments
(and, yes, some didn't care for my stuff as much as I would have hoped), but the entire time I
couldn't help thinking, Maybe I should just wait and hear what Karen Ball has to say.
To be fair to the group, and you know who you are (I love you guys!), they did give me some
excellent ideas for improving the first chapter before I sent it to Karen. There was this little thing
about the knife sticking out of Chris's side, and "Just how dark was it? Here it's just getting dark,
and here it's pitch black, then here it's twilight!" Little Dumb Things. LDTs. That are so
important. Thanks to everyone in the group, most of the LDTs were attended to so Karen didn't
have to see them. Whew! Thanks, you guys!!
An interesting side note: At the very end of my "hot seat session," Gayle mentioned something
about wondering if Chris (my book's main character) could stand living in a city like Portland after
living in the Rocky Mountains in the splendor of the open wilderness. She seemed very concerned
about this, which, I realized later, was so cool, because this question makes up most of the tension
of the second book in the Homeland Heroes Series. At the time, I didn't even know how book two
was going to play out. But hey. I had years to worry about that, right?
Hah!
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 21
One nice thing about going first in a massive critique group like this one is, well, once your turn on
the hot seat has passed, that's it. You can sit back on a regular chair and enjoy watching everyone
else take their turn. Nah, it wasn't like that. We were a Christian group, and everyone offered
everyone else some really terrific ideas to improve their stuff. It actually turned out to be great
fun. I can't wait to see how many in the group return to the conference this year. It would be great
to see them all again.
Anyway, so, well, my critique session was over, and then the class was over, and so I headed
down to the manuscript retrieval center just to see if Becky Nesbitt had finished reading my
proposal and had turned it in. I was positive I wanted to go with Karen and Zondervan, but I was
curious, just the same. Well, Becky wasn't finished with my stuff, so I had nothing to retrieve that
morning. But as I turned around, there stood Karen Ball.
Let me just say, at this point, if Karen Ball is in a room, she's hard to miss. Yes, she has short,
sometimes spikey reddish brown hair, but that's not what draws you to her. It's her smile. She has
a very cool smile, and is very rarely seen without it.
Anyway, there she is, and she sees me. We talk a bit. She tells me that she just had a "walk and
talk" with Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale House. She tells me that Becky Nesbitt from Tyndale
House also wants to acquire my stuff.
Hmm. After my initial thought, Lord, I can't believe all this!, the phrase "bidding war" fluttered
through my mind.
But hey. When I heard that fluttering phrase, I sent it right back out where it came from. I just knew
Zondervan was it. Karen was it. She had led the devotional time earlier that morning and,
watching her share the Word, hearing her sing, seeing her heart . . . well, I just knew, okay? : )
Anyway, she asked me how my critique class went. I told her I was numero uno, and had just spent
my time on the spot. I kind of looked down and shook my head. I told her the class didn't really
think much of my short, choppy sentences, or of my main character's response to danger, or of . . .
I glanced up. Karen was shaking her head.
And they also didn't care much for some of my word choices, and really hated this one sentence.
They actually called it "convoluted." "But," I said to Karen, "I couldn't help thinking as they were
telling me these things that maybe I should wait to hear what Karen Ball had to say."
Her head started bobbing up and down.
Yeah. I thought that sounded like a plan.
To be continued . . .
My Mount Hermon Adventures Part 22
I can't believe there are 22 parts to this so far. Though, I'll admit, I am stretching things out a bit for
dramatic purposes, the truth is, I guess I just plain had some fun last year, and I'm having way too
much fun this year sharing it all with you. Hope it's fun for you, too. Remember, the comment line
is open!
Margaret Becker just sang Poor in Paradise. That song gives me chills. And the one before it: All
That's Left. And the one before that! One More Reason. I love the line in that one: "If there's
another love that's better, I just don't want to see. 'Cause I'm planning my forever all around You
and me. And that's one more reason . . ."
I think that's copyright infringement, but I don't care. : )
Anyway, back to my Mount Hermon adventures . . .
So. Free of the hot seat, I spent the rest of the first day of the conference in this state of . . . ahhhhh.
When I first planned what workshops I wanted to take (before everything turned on a dime), the list
included: of course, the infamous, Do I Need An Agent? workshop, and others like What Editors
Want, Getting Noticed in a Saturated Market, Becoming Your Own Best Editor, Troubleshooting
Your Unsold Novel . . . stuff like that. Well, after the dime incident, I changed my list to include
such workshops as: Contracts and Negotiations, The Author/Publisher Partnership, and How To
Market Your Book.
My conference had turned. My life had turned. And a dime is a pretty small critter. Have you ever
realized just how small a dime really is?
: )
To be continued . . .
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