Be in prayer for Starfield

Just a quick note to let you know that there was a terrible accident last week at a Starfield concert when the floor of the church where they were performing gave way, plunging people 15 ft to the ground. You can read more here.

Please pray for the injured and for full recover, for the church family as they rebuild, and for the band. I know they care very much about their fans and this will weigh on them as they continue to minister to their audiences.

So you want to be a writer?

So, you want to write a book? Join the club. Every person with even the slightest ability to construct a decent sentence (and many without) have dreamed of writing the next literary blockbuster.

The problem, of course, is that for every blockbuster on an endcap at Barnes and Noble, there are hundreds of thousands of books that'll barely make it out of the case for their four month "season" before being returned to the distributer, only to end up on the shelf at The Dollar Store.

Think I'm exaggerating?

Check out this statistic. Bowkers reports that the projected book title output for 2006 was more than 290,000 (you know how statistics works; actual figures lag behind real life, but that's a more than fair estimate), with 78% of those titles coming from small or self publishers.

Even if your book does make it to the shelf, you'll need to sell about 10,000 books just for the publisher to break even. How many titles do that? Less than 10%. Which means most books (like 90%) don't even earn out their advance.

According to statistics posted on Dan Poynter's site (a great site for publishing info), the Authors Guild says the average fiction book sells about 5,000 copies; the average non-fiction about 7,500.

Agent, author and book publishing blogger Terry Whalin shared this statistic yesterday: 90% of the new books published sold 1,000 copies or less. You throw in one or two good blockbusters (like a John Grisham or another Purpose Driven Life) to offset the loser titles and Dan Poynter's stats start to make sense. One or two titles carry the rest.

So if you need to sell 10,000 to break even ... well, you do the math.

Does that mean you shouldn't pursue your literary dreams? Of course not. But you should remember the reasons why you're writing.

For me, it's to fulfill whatever God has planned for me. As Cardinal John Henry Newman once said, "God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another ... I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons."

Imagine what God can do with 1,000 books written by an author fully committed to His purpose.

Little Voices

I'm not super big on forwarded emails with cutesy poems and video clips, for some reason I opened this one and checked it out. It makes me wonder if this little girl singing isn't more beautiful to God's ears than any professional choir.

Weekend reads

So one of the best ways that I know of to recharge my batteries is to curl up with a good book.

Or three.

Once in a while I get the urge to write fiction. I'm not a fiction writer, but when I read stuff that's just OK, especially Christian ficiton, I think, "I can probably write better than that."

Case in point? "My Name Is Russell Fink" by Michael Snyder. During GMA week they were handing out books on the streets, and since it had a dog on the front and had a huge billboard looming over us daily and it looked like humor, I took a copy. Plus, I like free books.

The girls in the yellow tshirts who were passing out the books kept trying to sell me on the fact the the author is Right! Here! From! Nashville!, to which I replied that I'm not from Nashville so I don't really care.

"My Name is Russell Fink" is a pretty good book. It's amusing, has potential, but falls short in the way much Christian fiction does. So worried about throwing in the "somebody get saved" theme that there are basic plot elements that the author brings to the surface, then puts on a shelf, and then brings back out when he needs them. Amusing, good characters (the character of Dan reminded me exactly of the oldest son on PBS's "My Family," which was funny), but maybe not tied together as well as they could have been. But overall, it's worth checking out if you're looking for something light to read at the beach or something that won't tax your intellect too much. I suspect that since this was his first novel he'll take care of those things as he writes more.

So back to my desire to write fiction. I get it in my head maybe I should write fiction, but then I go to Target and randomly select a book off the shelf and realize there isn't any way I could craft a story better than what I'm holding in my hand.

This time, it was "Whistling in the Dark," by Lesley Kagen. What sold me on the book was an endorsement from Sandra Kring, who wrote "The Book of Bright Ideas," which I loved. I bought Kagen's book and read it in a day. Cover to cover in about 12 hours. Fantastic. Funny. All of the pieces tied together. Great characters. The voice was incredible. The plot elements tied neatly together and flowing to effortlessly along, keeping you in suspense but not making you work too hard for the story. This is a book worth buying and reading, and a book that makes me realize I shouldn't try to write fiction.

Yesterday, I read the memoir "If I Am Missing Or Dead" by Janine Latus. I like true crime books and this one was supposed to about the murder of her sister, but it's really about Janine's own lifetime of experiences with abusive men. Honestly, it was fascinating, in a very unsettling and sad way, and gave a really intimate glimpse into why women stay with abusive men. If you know anyone who has been or is being abused, and have ever asked yourself what she doesn't just pack up and leave, you have to read this book.

I actually purchased a stack of books this weekend. I went to get a copy of "Water for Elephants," because everyone has been raving about it, and ended up at the 70% off discount book store with, among other things, Anderson Cooper's book, and some other fiction I'd never heard of. To be honest, when someone raves about a book I'm usually disappointed. "The Kite Runner?" What was the fuss about that? But I have enough to keep me reading for at least a couple of weeks.

GMA08 Wrap Up

You can read a (very) short wrap of this year's GMA week on the Idol Chatter blog Beliefnet.com but this was a long, weird GMA week.

It started when I arrived at the Renaissance Marriott in downtown Nashville, heart of the event. I'd heard that the hotel had done some extensive renovations, and that was clear when I noticed that in addition to the glass double doors they also had installed one of those automatic revolving glass doors. Because I was hauling two suitcases behind me I stepped into the first opening - and started walking just a little faster than the doors were moving, and walked face first into the glass.

Uh ... I meant to do that.

While I was discreetly trying to check for blood on my now very red nose, I stepped into the lobby and my senses were assaulted with the new decor.

What was once a lovely oak and brass style hotel now looked like something straight out of the early 70s. And let's face it: it was ugly then and it ain't any better now.

I mean, tacky colors, dark colors, the whole lobby looked like someone set the lights on dim. All we needed was a disco ball to lower from the ceiling.

I was irritated before I even got to the front desk, but when I got there - Oh joy! - it only got worse, because they didn't have my name on our room reservation. While I tried to explain that, indeed, my name was on the room because at first they'd spelled it wrong and I'd had to ask it to be changed, the desk clerk insisted that my name was not on the room.

We both tried to call my roommate, Kathleen, but she wasn't answering the room phone or her cell, so I decided to go over to the convention center and get my GMA credentials while I waited. Eventually Kathleen came down to help sort the problem out.

Turns out that because Kathleen used some of her Marriott reward points to pay for two nights, they automatically took my name off the room. (Why on earth they did that, no one knows.) After about a half hour of arguing and then attempts to place a hold on my credit card for almost $200 more than I was going to pay (and $25 more than the available limit) they finally let me check in with the warning not to charge anything to the room without their prior permission. Yes, Sir!

It only went downhill from there. I was tired and hungry and extremely irritated, and I had to be social for the next several hours - a theme that played out daily, I might add.

I was up early every day and had some tea and crackers before I left the room, and I had scheduled in time to eat, but interviews never run on time and the elevators are always slow and so it ended up that I didn't really eat a meal daily until about 8 pm. After four days of that, I was worn down.

My interviews went fairly well, and I had a few interesting chats. The Afters pondered creation and the origins of the universe, and Darren from The Wrecking showed me a picture of his 23-pound cat, and Graham from Out of Ruin shared his story about dealing with an intestinal parasite. The Kutless guys were hilarious talking about the parting of the Red Sea, and Justin from Mainstay told me about his really serious car accident in December. But at least half the time the artists just opened their mouths and started talking, a rehearsed speech pouring out, stuff I'm sure every other interviewer got.

And in the back of my mind, I was constantly thinking, Man, I am really hungry.

The original plan for the week was to go to the Doves Wed night and then go home with my friends the Parkers and stay overnight. But as the week wore on I realized that I just didn't have it in me to last another day. So I got up Wed, changed my flight and came home early. I was starting to unravel emotionally - I couldn't stop crying, for some reason, and all I wanted was to get the heck out of there. What set me over the edge was when I talked to Cassie, and realized I wasn't going to see her before she left for five days in Florida. I just wanted to get home, and as fast as possible.

I think it was fatigue - I'd been running nonstop for almost two months before, with travel to a wedding out of town and then the Erma conference, and some new work with a new humor website and finishing up six stories before I left.

And let's not forget Scout's training classes.

I'm not used to that frenetic pace for more than a week or two, and it took it's toll. I hadn't built up enough social energy so that I went to Nashville my batteries already needed recharging in a bad way. I wanted to just crawl under the covers and be left alone, which of course you can't do at this event.

So that's GMA week. Exhausting. I met some great artists, and have a few good story ideas. But overall, I'm glad to be home, Scout sleeping at my feet, Murphy resting somewhere in the house so he can come and shred some of my notes later on, the birds chirping and utter peace and quiet in my own house, my own office, my own world.


* For those of you keeping track, Beliefnet.com has not launched my blog. It keeps getting pushed back while they do something with the blogger contracts. In the meantime, I might post a few on the Idol Chatter blog, but for now I'm focusing on a new humor website that I think you're going to like. I'll keep you posted!

This is a story about

This is a really interesting freewriting exercise that I learned at the Erma conference, where you free write for 10 mins but every sentence begins with "This is a story about ..." It's designed to give your brain permission to unload onto the page and give up some details and ideas you might not otherwise think of if you were trying.

The irony is that I almost like this freewrite better than the actual column it birthed. Anyway, it's amusing so I'll share it.

This is a story about ...

This is a story about the pet therapy program at Lollypop Farm, and how I signed Scout and myself up to participate in the program, which brings animals to hospitals and nursing homes, and how pets can aid in the therapy and rehabilitation of patients.

This is a story about the AKC good citizen test, and how Scout has to pass that before he can be considered for the pet therapy program.

This is a story about how Scout had to take four weeks of classes as preparation for the AKC good citizen test, and how out of the nine criteria required he could definitely pass six and likely two more.

This is a story about the one criterion he absolutely cannot pass.

This is a story about the loud noise test.

This is a story about the practice test two weeks ago, when Bob the trainer threw a metal bowl against the cement wall and expected the dogs not to freak out.

This is a story about how none of the dogs freaked out except Scout.

This is a story about Scout almost pulling himself completely out of his collar to get as far away from the loud noise as possible.

This is a story about the next week, when Scout was so nervous to go back to class that he tried to avoid going into the building and when he did go in he was whiny and on edge, but he did it anyway.

This is a story about how Bob threw the metal bowl against the wall again.

This is a story about how Scout was so completely and totally freaked out that he bolted down the hall and started scratching at the front doors.

This is a story about how I took Scout outside the building.

This is a story about how Scout refused to come back inside the building.

This is a story about how Bob said Scout cannot pass the AKC good citizen test but should come back and take the test anyway, because he will learn from every new experience.

This is a story about how I tried to desensitize Scout to the building so he would come back to Lollypop to take the test.

This is a story about last Saturday, when we came back and walked up and down in front of the classroom until he would walk without trying to pull me out of the building.

This is a story about last Sunday, when we came back and the classroom was open, and Bob was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

This is a story about how quickly Scout ran to Bob and licked Bob’s face, and totally forgot that just a few days earlier Bob had scared the stuffing out of him by throwing a metal bowl against the cement wall.

This is a story about learning to trust the people that are holding your leash, and believing that even when you are totally freaked out you can try something again as long as someone you trust is holding the leash.

This is a story about how I continue to see similarities between my dog and my relationship with God.

This is a story about the way that I react to things that scare me, and how most of my life has been spent running in the opposite direction as fast as I could rather than looking up to see who was holding my leash, probably because no one was holding the leash but me.

This is a story about finally letting God take hold of my leash.

This is a story about learning that when you are scared, you should stay at the side of the person you trust, and if they lead you back to the scary room with the loud noise it isn’t because they want to freak you out but because you need to learn how to deal with the loud noise so you can move on to better things, things that often help other people.

This is a story about how Scout cannot be a pet therapy dog, probably because both of us still need a fair amount of therapy ourselves.

"Wait" loss

Not that anyone cares but when I weighed myself at the gym yesterday I was down a pound, even though went to Abbott's the night before for a frozen custard that probably hasn't had time to show up on my butt yet.

Right after I started working out, I gained two pounds, then lost four, then gained two. Essentially, I started working out in November and weigh the same now as I did five months ago.

Everyone tells me that I'm getting more toned, and Phil the trainer keeps reminding me "muscles weighs more than fat but takes up four times less space." Right, right. Riiiiight.

OK, even I have to admit that without any actual loss in pounds I am seeing results. I was able to put on a pair of jeans yesterday that for a long time I hadn't really been able to get zipped - and not only put them on but wear them around for most of the afternoon without cutting off the blood supply to my legs or strangling my internal organs.

So maybe Phil's right. I suppose all this work has been worth the wait.

American Idol Shouts To The Lord - Twice

Each season, Fox’s “American Idol” has at least one contestant sharing a Christian testimony (this year the blatant believer is Brooke White), and more than a few contestants have left the show and gone to sign recording deals with Christian labels (RJ Helton, George Huff, Mandisa, Chris Sligh, Phil Stacey).

But this year the faith factor kicked it up a notch with the finale of the “Idol Gives Back” special on Wednesday. The Wednesday finale had the final eight contestants singing (albeit minus the first verse that starts with “My Jesus, My Savior”) popular praise song “Shout To The Lord.”

The next night, the group sang the song again, this time with the first verse.

Given that The Clark Brothers, winners of Fox’s fan-driven contest for “The Next Great American Band,” were blatant Christians maybe the mainstream music industry is starting to get the hint that not only is a lot of Christian music good, it’s also very popular with mainstream audiences.

And speaking of The Clark Brothers, can I just tell you that if you missed even a single minute of their performances on "Next Great American Band" go back and watch the episodes. Not only was the winning band Christian but the third runner up, Denver and the Mile High Orchestra, are a favorite in the Christian community.

Scout's undoing

Well, it's all over but the official test and verdict, but it's clear that Scout will not pass his AKC Good Citizen test. His undoing? The noise test.

Last night at class he was a little more agitated and whiny than usual, and I think he remembered that the week before he'd had the stuffing scared out of him by that water bowl being thrown against the cement wall.

When it came time for Bob to throw the bowl last night, I took Scout out into the hall to play glo-ball. Bob didn't want to completely freak the dog out so that he never wanted to go back into the room, and if we can get Scout accustomed to the sound little by little there's the chance he won't totally freak.

I knew we were going to have a problem when Scout didn't want to play and headed for the front door of Lollypop instead. I led him back into the hallway by our class but he just got more and more insistent that he was leaving. Not a great sign when you've got your feet planted and the dog has his feet planted and you're doing tug of war with the leash.

Thinking he might have to potty, we went outside. Dumb idea, because then I couldn't get him back inside the building.

I dragged, I ordered, I pleaded and eventually got him back to the room, where the noise test was over. Everyone was finished for the night so while Bob gave last minute instructions for the test next week and everyone filed out of the room, Scout did the wheelchair test, sniffing the girl sitting in the chair, who was feeding him hot dogs. When she rolled the chair, he backed away, cautiously, then moved in for more hot dog.

He probably would have failed that part, too.

Once everyone left I took a few minutes to talk to Bob about Scout's noise fears, and would you believe Scout went right over and lay down next to Bob's chair, as if he was glad the whole ordeal was over and he could relax.

I think he was playing me a bit, even though I do believe he truly is freaked by the noise, and I think with a lot of work we can get him over that noise problem, at least enough to pass the test even if he can't actually make it into the therapy dog program.

When Scout was a puppy and just out of his cast (he broke his leg at about 20 weeks), he did the same thing every time we left the yard, totally freaking any time we went by the big street (which isn't even that big, really). Once we had some obedience training under our belt, I learned how to be in control, I got more confident, he got more confident, and while he doesn't love to walk near the big street he does it now fairly well.

In any event, we're going to go back next week and do the parts of the test I know Scout can pass. Bob said every experience helps him get more confident and we'll skip the water bowl test. He said the main thing that will help Scout get over his fears is getting him out into new experiences more often.

Scout and his owner have the same problem, apparently.

If you can't work, vent

I'm supposed to be working on an article for a paper about an upcoming festival, several articles in fact, for several publications, on several different topics, but despite deadlines that are coming at me head-on line a freight train I can't work.

It's too stinking noisy, and I'm too flipping stressed.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of travel and writing and new opportunities, and trying to be disciplined with my time is like trying to grasp the wind. I'm having a hard time sorting out ideas and assignments because I can't think clearly right now.

That's because the neighborhood dogs are barking like fiends, which means Scout is upstairs on the spare bed looking out the front window adding his voice to the chorus.

I can't take the barking. Not counting Scout, there are at least 6 dogs within 100 yards of our house, and they all bark nonstop. Yip, yip, yipping from the small dog two houses down. Tag team barking from the other side of the house. Random, incessant barking from dogs I didn't even know lived on our street.

I'm so frustrated I actually just yelled out the window at the top of my lungs, "SHUT UP!" It's quiet. Let's see how long it lasts.

Can't people hear their dogs barking? Sure, I tune Scout out sometimes and he lets loose a few barks before I can tackle him, but in the name of everything holy when your dog is outside barking for a half hour straight, go out and the shut the d*mned thing up!

OK, I feel better. Not better enough to start writing about a festival, which, special as it thinks it is, is exactly the same as every other festival that thinks it's got the market on rip roaring summer fun. Whoopee. And not enough brain power to start on that cover story due next week, even though all the interviews are done. But at least my brain is starting to clear.

Great, the phone is ringing.

Another publicist just called me at home to reschedule an interview for GMA. First, call me on my cell. Second, I hate going to the Hilton for interviews. Fortunately for her, I scheduled in travel time or I would have just cxl'd the whole thing. Just FYI: If it's raining, I'm not walking down to the Hilton, so pray for sunny weather. It's a 10 minute walk, even though you can see the Hilton from the Marriott, and I'm not starting my day soaking wet, and I'm not hauling an umbrella around all day. I've said no to every other interview at the Hilton - and yes, that meant not scheduling some big name artists. OK, now here's another one emailing to tell me the location for my interview with her artist: the Hilton. Grrrr. Oh, goodie.

(Murphy, gefffffffft offsf thecnsi keyboa=0lrd!)

We need to leave in an hour for obedience class, during which time Scout will whine and probably pee on the floor while the Bob the instructor evaluates him to see if he can be a Good Citizen. Of the 9 criteria for passing the AKC test (not peeing is not one of the criteria), Scout can confidently do maybe 6, one he can do if I keep his attention and one we haven't tried, but the noise test is going to be his undoing.

In this lovely test, Bob throws (with great vigor, I might add) a metal water bowl against the cement wall and expects the dogs to not freak. OK, so my dog was the only one who really, truly freaked. Some dogs were startled, but Scout planted his belly on the floor and tried to haul tail out of the room without being seen. Freaked in the most total way imaginable.

In any event, writing about this helped clear my head, as did the angry shouting out the window. Five minutes, not a single bark. Six, seven, eight ... and we have a soft growl from Scout as the cat slinks by ... and quiet again.

And the winner is ....

We've picked a name for the Beliefnet.com blog! It's

GOSPEL SOUNDCHECK

I'll let you know when it's up and running!