What I know about my Dad

Dads are different from normal human beings. There is no weakness inside of them. Their innermost being consists of iron and grit. They are hard, firm when the need arises, and they come equipped with a ‘Daddy’ voice that instantly instills fear, respect, obedience. . .but mostly fear.

Dads are hard workers. Their shoulders are broad, designed to carry the burdens of their obligations with ease. They rarely cry, for most of the moisture from their body is poured out in sweat. When they hurt, they lash out in anger. When their family hurts, it’s even worse.

Somehow, dads have managed to compress their brains, like a zip drive. Inside, they carry the wisdom of the universe, yet sometimes, their word processor fails and they are unable to communicate what is in their hearts.

Like the rest of their body, their hands are roughened by work and built to handle any task. Their grip is like steel, their touch hardened by callous’. Dads are big, and strong, and tough.

Except when it comes to their daughters.

When it comes to their daughters, dads are soft, pliable. Their heart is full of love, and their eyes shine with compassion. Dads are still tough when it comes to their daughters, but instead of a grip like steel, it is more like a firm hand cradling a fragile egg. Dads teach. Inspire. Instruct. They challenge their daughters to be all they can be, and they lift up, support them with their words. . .sometimes unspoken. Dads are heroes. They’re gentle giants no matter their size. They are a reflection of the Father, a symbol of His love.

Dads are different from normal human beings. They’re special. The word’s “I love you,” seem so inadequate, and yet we don’t tell them enough.

Dad, I love you. May your day be blessed.

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Living With Rejection

Three down, five to go. Proposals that is. I've heard back from three of the eight agents I submitted proposals to, all rejections.

Sigh.

Being a writer means living with rejection. Lots of if. Thankfully, I've discovered a bit of wisdom that helps me to live with it.

Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!

Not every editor, agent, publisher is going to be foaming at the mouth, waiting to snatch up my book because they are certain it'll be the next big story.

There is that one, however, who believes in my work and can't wait to sign me so he or she can start helping me accomplish my dream. I just have to find them. That's why I'm adding to my list of potential agents and preparing query letters and proposals as I speak...er, type. The list is growing! Anything to help better my odds, right?

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The Hit List

It all started one dark and stormy night. Well, not really. But it sounded good, and it went with the title.

Actually, it all started with a LOT of research. I booted up my computer, dusted off my keyboard, and went to work researching agents. Here’s what I found:

Many CBA agents can be found just by Googling them, but who has the time? This website in particular proved invaluable for listing agents, their submission guidelines, and contact info:

http://www.christianwritersinfo.net/tips7.htm

And just in case you need a more definitive list, I’m including the agents I have submitted to, along with a link to their submission guidelines. Enjoy, and happy researching!

Beth Jusino, Alive Communications

Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary Agency

Deidre Knight, The Knight Agency

Janet Kobobel Grant, Books and Such

Janet Benrey, Benrey Literary Agency

John Eames, Eames Literary Agency

Natasha Kern, Natasha Kern Literary Agency

Wendy Lawton, Books and Such

Also, since part of pitching to an agent means preparing a top notch proposal, I’m attaching a copy of mine. Hope it helps.

Book Proposal

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The Rainbow

My life has undergone some serious changes lately. My son graduated from high school, I’ve been considering a major career switch, and the focus of my writing sharpened to finding an agent. So imagine my disappointment when the first rejection letter came.

“Not accepting new clients. Good luck with your writing.”

Ouch. Short and to the point.

Following that came a second letter, this one much more detailed but a rejection all the same.

“Quality writing, great plot, but not able to represent you at this time. Good luck with your writing.”

Double ouch. Added to the emotional turmoil of seeing my baby finish high school, these setbacks left me blubbering and crying out to God.

That’s when He reminded me about the rainbow. The promise it holds goes far beyond the absence of rain. A picture of hope and beauty, it reminds us of God’s faithfulness, His timeless, unchanging love, His magnificent ability to alter nature. If He would trouble Himself to bend water and light in such a way that I am reminded of His promises, why do I think that He would fail to hold my hopes and desires in the palm of His hand?

The problem is my timing is not always His. I’ll keep doing my part. I’ll send out the proposals and query letters. In the meantime, I’ve got to learn to leave the results of those letters up to Him. After all, He’s much better at handling them than I am.

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The Graduate

Meet the love of my life. No, I’m not talking about Dustin Hoffman. I’m talking about my son, Ben.

Ben is a senior this year. Along with all the things that accompany his last year in high school, I’ve spent hours filling out scholarship applications, college applications, ordering senior photos, graduation announcements…the list goes on.

I wish I could say it’s been fun. In fact, it’s been a whirlwind of emotions, activities, and responsibilities. I know I’ll look back on this year and remember it with fondness. Maybe. Right now, I’m just praying I’ll survive it (grin).

For those of you wondering if I will get back to my thread on agents, don’t worry. I’ve got one more week to go before school is out. After that, we’ll return to our regularly scheduled programming.

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Mother's Day

My mom is special.

She raised five girls all in the same house, with only one bathroom. She worked. She cooked. She cleaned. AND she came to all my high school plays, ball games, and competitions. She cried for me, loved me, held me when my son died, and cheered when my daughter was born.

My mom is special.

She never finished school, but she taught herself to speak English and became a Migrant Director helping other kids learn English as well. She worked hard, sometimes at two jobs, so that she could help my father provide a home for us and a few extras as well. She went to church on Sunday, kept up a garden on Saturday, but was never too tired to help a neighbor any day.

She remembers my birthday, my sisters’ birthdays, the grandkids’ birthdays (all fourteen of them) and all of her sons-in-law birthdays. She’s retired now, but she still sews, gardens, works at a church pantry, and makes her own Christmas gifts.

I love my mom. This year, I really want to tell her how much. After all, she deserves it, because…

My mom is special.

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I've Been Tagged by Jessica F.

Kids will be kids. . .and so will adults.

There I was, sitting on my couch, checking email, when WHACK! Something hit me.

What was that? I wondered innocently.

WHACK, WHACK!

There it was again. . .and then I knew. Jessica F. had tagged me! Not only that, she’s been hiding out, so I guess you can say she’s been playing hide and seek as well as tag. LOL! Okay, Jessica, here are my eight simple facts. And now, let’s see how fast you can run. . .

Here are the Rules:

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

2. Players who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read read your blog.


Okay, so here are my eight random facts:

I’ve always wanted to do something really daring, like skydiving. Or belly dancing.

In high school, I was a band geek. Actually, I was the queen of the band geeks because I was drum major.

I’m not afraid of the dark, but I am afraid of snakes, spiders, sharks, and really big dogs whose name is Cujo.

My favorite movie ever is The Princess Bride. Scratch that, it’s Ever After. No wait, it’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman. What was the question?

When I was eight, I wanted to go to Hollywood to be a movie actress. Or was that yesterday??

I’m staying up late writing this because my son is at his senior prom and even though he is eighteen, a mom never stops worrying.

I hate ironing. Literally. If I could, I’d avoid it by throwing clothes away and buying new ones.

I love to travel. My dream is to spend a month traveling across Europe.

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