Almost three months into this experiment of becoming an indie author, I am quickly concluding that this is no ordinary artist's gig. I suppose that is, as usual, an anti-climactic statement, but just another realization of how hard it is to become a widely celebrated artist in any form.
Don't get me wrong - I've heard from a good few handfuls of folks that I am on to something with "The Reaper's Seed." But the effort to match the result of becoming widely read is an elusive thing. Success takes time. That's hard to accept, especially while marketing to a world of people that are used to "instant everything." Facebook, Twitter, and most news outlets are all instant news, high-hype, and momentary. It almost feels as if it is going to take a million, one-second invasions of the over-stimulated 2015 mind for me to get some attention. And that's just the initial contact. Then I think of how much an author is asking when he or she says, "Think that cover is interesting? Spend 10+ hours reading what's behind it, working for it, imagining the story that I have woven together over several years." I may as well be asking people to run a marathon. Well, I guess in entertainment, that is what a novel is: a marathon. America seems to be more of a sprinting society these days. If it's a movie, people will watch it. If a novel is asking people to run an entertainment marathon, then marketing one is like competing in an Ultraman. Guess I better buck up. I was realizing the other day, just how much we all love a hero. It’s not a profound observation. But as I thought about how movie, after novel, after TV series comes out about heroes, it dawned on me just how obsessed we are with “saving the day.”
We love our super heroes. We love our real life heroes. We love our magically-powered teens, and mutants who are thrust into the spotlight and forced to choose good or evil, to be heroes or villains. It makes me wonder. What’s with the hero worship? Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you a brief history of man’s obsession with heroes, but I will admit, I think such a study would be utterly fascinating. Hero worship is woven into the fabric of who we are as human beings. Why? Personally, I believe it’s because we are images of The Hero, created to be like Him, but incapable of it because of our current state: fallen. Not surprisingly, all our self-created heroes are faltered, temporary, lost, or broken . . . just like us. We celebrate one hero, but then need another. Hence, the thousands of years of gods, demi-gods, untouchable warriors, super-humans, benevolent aliens, genetically modified soldiers, and mutants turned socially-aware. They show a glimpse of greatness, perfection, even salvation, but it eventually fades, and they fail. I don’t think there is any problem with hero worship. I’m writing a story now, packed-full of heroes. In They will all play a part in winning the victory. It’s just that, they aren’t going to be able to do it themselves. Many of them will save the day, but then a new day dawns, and evil persists. Who saves everyone then? The problem for us in real life is not that we worship a hero, but that we may not worship the right hero. While we are obsessed with “saving the day,” do we ever look a little further to find a hero that saves eternity? Now, there would be a hero worth worshiping! Luckily for us all, there is such a hero. The Story Begins
Christmas was, and is, in many ways the beginning of a story. Certainly it was more like the addition of a main plot line, as The Story began well before Christ was born in the muck of a stable, to poor parents in the dead of night, without any medical insurance. But it began the phase of The Story where a mind-blowing plot twist takes off. God becomes a man. Talk about an unexpected, covert arrival of the hero. But now, with that plot line of The Story complete, one of the real questions for all of us at Christmas is: Was I in it? Or rather, am I in it? Am I in The Story? The plot twist of Christmas, the part where the Creator of the universe, perfect and incapable of abiding injustice, actually puts on our stinky flesh and suffers the brokenness of our world, the product of our rebellion, was not simply to add intrigue or keep you guessing. It was for a very specific purpose. Two thousand years later, we now sing about why that dramatic, back-bending plot twist took place. You may know the words, maybe even from Charlie Brown Christmas? Hail the heaven born Prince of Peace! Hail the Son of Righteousness Light and life to all He brings, risen with healing in his wings Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth Hark! The Herald angels sing: “Glory to the newborn King” God's the ultimate epic author. Christmas was a really good chapter, but The Story He has written is still being read, and no one has reached the ending. Find yourself in it. You are there. And when you find yourself, take stock of your character's role. Regardless of who you are, that little baby, the Hero of us all, took the plunge from his throne in Heaven, "mildly laying his glory by," . . . for you, and for me. There's no box or bag that can contain this gift. All you have to do it receive it. Merry Christmas. This week I began what could be considered a new career, as an independently published writer.
Why? Why poke my little seed leaves through the ground in a forest of redwoods? Making it big in the world of Art can be like getting noticed and celebrated as a seedling while being surrounded by giants. So again, why am I making the effort? I have a day job, I have a beautiful family, a big yard, a shiny bicycle (my car is not that nice), etc, etc. I love story. I don’t just like hearing, reading and watching stories, I like creating them. I’m a writer. And I can’t say why, but I have the desire to share mine. Is it because my stories are better than most, such that everyone needs to know about them? I guess we’ll see. Is it because I’m dying to establish a new vein of self-worth through notoriety and approval? That would be misguided – one disparaging critique from someone I respect, and I’d crumble, no doubt. I want to share them because I wonder whether the stories and characters I’ve created will speak as deeply to others as they have to me. Everyone loves story. I’m not alone. Stories tell us where we’ve come from, where we are, and where we are headed. Stories help us understand who we are, and inspire us to become who we were meant to be. Dare to love, regardless of the cost, and you can change the world. Refuse to forgive and you become hard, calloused and vengeful, a poison in the world. Stories can also simply entertain, but those aren’t the best ones. The best stories are the ones that speak to our core, move our emotions, give us dreams, daydreams, beg us to try and understand their characters and events. We’re all in a story together. The story of mankind is one with big questions, big answers, and big implications. It’s so incredibly complex, and yet many of the answers given by world religions and sages through out the centuries are simple: just be, just be one, just love. And then we look around at the mayhem and feel that such notions are dangerously naïve. There is injustice, which demands justice, and justice demands punishment. As most things go, the truth denies neither end of the spectrum. It’s our story that has most influenced my story crafting. Okay, so is my story imaginative? Certainly. Can it transport the reader to another time and place? It sure takes me there. After many years of crafting, I’m finally ready to share “The Reaper’s Seed.” And I know, before selling a single copy that even if very few people enter my imagination, it has been and will be a fulfilling journey. Let the story begin. |
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