Letting go of fear and saying, “I am a Writer”

By Leanne Sype 

There’s something I haven’t told you because I’ve been fearful. I thought I was being humble. But this past weekend I attended the 2015 Faith and Culture Writer’s Conference, which turned into two-day therapy-retreat where I cried a lot and got really depressed before I became inspired. I was hindered to inspiration because I was blocked by truth.

I sat in a guided writing experience with Micah J. Murray,  during the new, “Breathing Space: A Mini Retreat” that was added to the conference this year. Micah called us out our snippy inner-gremlins and fought against them by writing a fan letter to ourselves. I wasn’t going to read mine out loud because my gremlins told me that everyone else’s letter was way better, that I would be self-centered if I volunteered, and that everyone would think mine was stupid. I punched my gremlins in the face by volunteering to read mine.

I read my letter and I was okay; people liked it.  Micah asked me to read it again. The second time I read it, I wasn’t okay. I began to cry and could barely get through the dang thing without snotting all over it. I got mad(ish) at Micah, “Why did you make me read this again? Look at what you made me do!”  He had called me to a place of public vulnerability–then asked if the group could pray for me. He asked the sweet girl next to me, Michelle, to lay a hand on me and pray. And pray she did, so beautifully and tearfully. This was a powerful moment that I didn’t understand in the moment.

In this same class, a gentleman, Sovann Penn (@SovannPenn), read his letter. He said to himself, “You have been mistaking fear for humility far too long… you have friends who are awesome and believe in you.” This stuck with me the rest of the day the same way a rock gets stuck inside your shoe.

That night in the main session, author Emily Freeman said, “I want to write like a hostess. A hostess doesn’t leave her guests to go call all the people who RSVP’ed “no” to find out why the didn’t come and why they don’t like her. That’s crazy. I want to write like a hostess, not a crazy person.” This put another rock in my shoe, and I went home feeling depressed, annoyed, and uncertain if I would be back the next day. I snuggled up to my husband and blubbered all over him with no words to express what was wrong with me.

I woke up the next morning with the very clear voice of the Holy Spirit:

“You’ve been mistaking fear for humility; you’re missing out on the full experience of the gift you’ve been given and the ministry in which you have been invited to participate. You are scared of people rejecting you, mocking you, and being angry with you, yet in all the things I’ve given you to write never once have you experienced what you fear. Not even in your most public confessions of sin. You are a lovely hostess with many guests I’ve brought to you because they can hear you; your translation from the Kingdom to the guests is good! But you leave them so you can wait by the phone for the “no” RSVP’s to call. They aren’t calling… and you’re missing the party! You have faithful friends, family, and even strangers who believe in you, but most importantly I believe in you. I have work for you if you’re willing; the fruit will be good and beautiful if you will trust Me.”

Here’s what I want to tell you:

I’ve spent the last 14 years pouring into and editing the stories of others, defining myself as an editor and merely dabbling in my craft as a “wet-noodle” writer. I confess that while I adore, honor, and value other people’s stories, I’ve been using editing as a way to avoid the true work God has for me–writing. I have been fearful of stepping into the public arena of vulnerability, giving power to voices of the gremlins and cloaking my fear in humility so as to justify my place behind the scenes (which, incidentally, is where an editor works. How convenient.)

Yes, some of my recent writings have been more confessional and vulnerable, evidence of God’s effort in coaxing me out into the arena, but I can tell you they were published in trembling obedience and reluctant submission.

Writing  I surrender with humble declaration that I am writer. I write creative non-fiction about real-life, my story, and God’s unwavering persistence to be the anchor for both. I translate through written words what I hear, see, and feel from God so I can better understand the purpose he has for me, how I can live that purpose for His glory, and how I can invite others to discover the same for their lives. My prayer always is that through my experiences, you find yourself encouraged, inspired, and invited into a Kingdom that is safe and welcoming, and promises purposeful life no matter how broken you are. You are loved unconditionally. And so am I.

God gave me my first assignment in January– a children’s book called The Hungry Garden. It’s an alphabet book the Hungry Gardenthat explores the ordinary to extraordinary food that gardens grow and why these foods are so exciting. It comes with a 26-recipe “snack book” that parents and children can use in their kitchen to be creative with food. I have completed the first draft of the main manuscript, and I am currently developing and testing the recipes.

I never wanted to write a book, let alone a children’s book . . . let alone a children’s book about food.  I didn’t feel qualified. But as I have been following His lead on this project, it’s becoming more clear that as a recovering anorexic patient, I understand the fear of food intimately. I know what it feels like to see food in front of me that looks scary, smells weird, and would certainly be the worst thing ever if I ate it. As a child of God living with an eating disorder, I can relate to children in a way others cannot. Only God can orchestrate such a unique connection.

I look forward to sharing with you the nutty things that have happened since beginning this process, along with the mysteries and surprises I encounter as I journey forward. I promise not to hold back anymore! I am joining the party and will step into the arena as my name is called.

And those grumpy gremlins? Well, they aren’t invited.

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Leanne Sype was a speaker at the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference. She IS a also a  writer, whose work can be found at Leanne Sype website

Not the usual suspects

Romal Tune By Romal Tune

So where do I begin?

If I had to some up the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference in one word it would be “refreshing.”

I’m on the road three weeks a month each year speaking or teaching at conferences or other venues.

But this conference felt different. It was more like a retreat. The positive energy, encouraging conversations, the inspiring workshops and the great speakers made me feel at peace.

More than that, it was a reminder that I am not alone and that my voice is valued.

Faith & Culture 2015 was refreshing and replenishing, which is important because life can be a bit challenging at times and we need places where people help us recharge.                  It’s good to know that there is a conference of authors and writers who are willing to share their journeys and stories in ways that are uplifting.

That’s a big deal.

Maybe like me, you have been in somewhat similar settings where there are these passive aggressive competitions between people trying to prove they are better, more important, or attempt to lure you into the comparison trap to make you feel like you’re just not good enough yet. I didn’t sense a hint of that at Faith & Culture, and that was refreshing.

I came across the event on Twitter; and after we followed one another, I checked out their website.

The first thing that struck me was that fact that the list of speakers did not have what I call “the usual suspects” of speakers.

A lot of conferences tend to keep the same speakers in rotation, and after a while that gets a little boring and predictable. I often hear people talking about how there needs to be more new voices included at conferences but I’ve not seen very many actually include new voices.

But, the Faith & Culture Writers Conference was different.

They purposefully inviting new voices to the conversation around faith, culture and the arts. And this was evidenced in the line up of speakers – there were a lot of new voices and very few, if any, “usual suspects.” After all, they even invited me to be a keynote speaker and co-facilitate a workshop without previously hearing me. The leadership took the recommendation of a mutual friend and decided to add another new voice.

I did two large group talks where I shared my story. The point of the both talks was to show that within our personal stories, as messy as they can be at times; God can turn a mess into a miracle. A miracle that if shared through our testimonies, can save and change the lives of others who are wondering if there is anyone who can relate to what they are going through, and can show them that life gets better.  As a writer our personal narratives impact who we believe we can become in the world.

Revisiting the stories we have been telling ourselves impacts the stories we are able to share through our writing. We are free from pain, shame, and judgment; we are free to be bold, courageous and creative. In a sense, we go from blank to beautiful, the theme of the conference.

A final thought. The plenary sessions felt like church, or should I say what I wish church should feel like. The music was great; the speakers were empowering, practical and relevant. But more than that, there was no pretense, no judging, no shaming. There was just great fellowship, a desire to meet new people, cultivate new friendships and help each other pursue purpose and passion through writing. I couldn’t help but think to myself; wow this is kind of what I wish church felt like.

Thanks to all who attended the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference.                                 My heart felt gratitude to the leadership team for inviting me to be a part of the amazing experience.

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Romal Tune was one of the speakers at the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference. He’s an ordained minister, an author, and a speaker. Find his writing and work at Romal Tune

The 2015 Risk was worth it

Cornelia Becker Seigneur  By Cornelia Becker Seigneur

What an amazing experience at our Faith & Culture Writers Conference this past weekend! I am exhausted and over-did it and felt it at night. I needed to rest more during the days. I will pay later for it later. But, I am so grateful to be alive (truly!)  And, that I can smile thinking about the weekend. An exhausted smile, but a smile nonetheless.

This year, we tried something new, adding an extra experience Pre-Conference during the day on Friday that we titled “Breathing Space- A Mini-Retreat.” That is always a risk, trying something new and different. What if it flops. What if numbers are really low and it looks like a failure. And, when registration numbers were not coming in as quickly as we had anticipated, I’m not going to lie, I was worried. As the conference director, I see the reality of the finances.

Adding the Mini-Retreat and new art spaces and live art were in response to comments from last year’s survey, saying people wanted more down time, more small group interaction, additional opportunities for fellowship. In short, people wanted to not feel so rushed.  And, when one mini-retreat group leader, Nish Weiseth, had to drop out of the afternoon time frame due to a family situation just a week before the event, I started doubting even more. Maybe, this added day was a bad idea.

Then, I prayed and asked others on our lead team to pray.

Our team’s executive administrator, Bethany Jackson, encouraged me to take the group and I appreciated her vote of confidence. But, I really needed to be careful not doing so much since my accident. I was already slated to share from the main stage about my accident, so I just decided to say no to leading this small group. It was hard to say no, as I love leading small writing groups, but I knew it would already be a grueling weekend. I reached out to a few people to see if they could possibly lead that small breakout group for that portion of the mini-retreat. Karen Zacharias Spear and Micah J. Murray stepped in, joining Seth Haines and Brooke Perry, and Romal Tune and Tony Kriz.

God is good. He always provides just whom he needs.

Then came the conference, and people told me how amazing they felt that the mini-retreat experience was. One person said:

“Okay, we can go home now. I’m filled up.”

Others said that God was working on their souls and in their hearts and they were being healed and restored and I am hearing all of these comments and this was only during the “pre-conference,” and I am already shedding tears of joy. Exhausted tears of joy.

Sometimes, when you risk, it flops. Sometimes it goes well. Sometimes it’s in between. But all the time it’s worth it.

The Lord was so in this weekend, and we truly could not have done it without Him. And, that is a good place to be.

That comment I heard over and over again. That God was at work.

It was God, working through my incredible leadership team and committee members and behind the scene folks that made this past weekend possible. I am humbly grateful for their service and friendship. After my accident, they just kept on moving forward. We only had three months to go. We should not have had a conference, but God had other plans.

So many folks worked behind the scenes to make this event go so smoothly. And, these wonderful people were doing more than just running a conference. They were giving their lives. Many took note of the personal nature of our conference. Bob Welch, one of our speakers, said, “Wow,  a few weeks before the conference, I received a hand-written note saying you were praying for me!” I’ve never had that before. We wanted to be intentional about making people feel like they mattered.

We serve a creative God who carved something beautiful out of nothing; and now He calls us to create, to fill the blank pages of our lives with our WORDS, our stories, His Story. We prayed that people would find a place of community and belonging; and, from listening to the conversations, both at the pre-conference, “Breathing Space: A Mini-Retreat,” and throughout the weekend, I think that was happening.

So, we risked, we dared, we dreamed.

And, it was worth it.

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Cornelia Becker Seigneur was is the mom of five children between the ages of 12 and 25, with a set of identical twins in the mix; she has been married to her college sweetheart for 28 years. Cornelia loves gathering people together into community and she is honored to serve as  the founding director of the Faith & Culture Writers Conference.  Cornelia longs to serve Christ in any way she can; she thrives on adventure and the extraordinary ordinary and family; and she needs a lot of grace to survive. Find her work at Cornelia Becker Seigneur’s Website

 

A Welcome Letter from FCWC Director

Cornelia Becker Seigneur  By Cornelia Becker Seigneur

On behalf of the entire Faith & Culture Writers Conference Leadership Team, I want to welcome you to the Expanded 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference – Rough Draft: From Blank To Beautiful.

Last year you spoke, saying you wanted more time for fellowship and legroom — in short, more breathing space — and we listened. We added our Friday pre-conference experience which we are calling “Breathing Space-A Mini Retreat”; we also have Art Stations in McGuire, where you can reflect on the conference visually. In addition, we will have a prayer room available to ponder your creative God-given calling. We truly hope and pray that you find inspiration, courage, and community during your experience with us.

We need in-person connection and we intentionally want to be a creative community where everyone belongs and feels as though their story matters. Because it does!

It Takes a Village!
After my life-changing Accident in January, this amazing team that I serve alongside continued to move this conference forward, and without them there would be no conference! I am incredibly and humbly grateful for their service and friendship.

  • Bethany Jackson has been so faithful, keeping us on task as our Executive Administrator
  • Marc Schelske serves as our Scribe and (new!) Launch Coordinator and all-around get-things done guy
  • Taylor Smith returns as the warm and amazing Communications Coordinator of our speakers;
  • Brooke Nicole Perry is once again our expert, matching attendees with their Agents, Editors, and Mentors;
  • A big nod goes to Tony Kriz, one of our visionaries and Advisory Board Members;
  • Leah Abraham, is our awesome Website Administrator;
  • Matthew O’Connell, organizes our Faith & Culture Writing Contest;
  • Jody Collins, is our Volunteer Coordinator|Administrative Assistant.
  • Our Committee members include: Kim Hunt, social media coordinator, Cayla Pruett and Rachael Metzger, creative space coordinators; Faye Strudler our Prayer Team Coordinator; and Stephen Carter, Writing Contest|Social Media Assistant.
  • Huge thank you goes to Bethany Sundstrom-Smith for re-designing our website this year. Be sure to see our “Acknowledgments” page in your folder for complete list of thank you’s.
  • We are also thankful to Warner Pacific College for their hospitality as our sponsoring host. Grace Kim and Melody Burton have made us feel very welcome, as they have worked behind the scenes with logistics and details. Thank you to Mimi Fonseca for coordinating our bookstore and Joel Santana, our meals.
  • Once again, we are honored that Martin French created our beautiful WORDS logo shown at the top of this letter;
  • Aaron Esparza returns as our photographer;
  • Brad Ediger is recording all talks and sessions for you to purchase.
  • And, we give a shout-out to the judges of our Writing Contest as well as Scrivener and Bedlam Magazine.

A Couple of Changes.

I do have a couple of notes to make you aware of. We are sorry to say that due to a family situation, Amber Haines and Erika Morrison are no longer able to be with us. And Nish Weiseth has to leave early so she will not be leading the afternoon mini-retreat small groups. But, Micah J. Murray and Karen Zacharias Spear are stepping in to join the co-led groups of  Seth Haines and Brooke Perry and Tony Kriz and Romal Tune

We serve a creative God who carved something beautiful out of nothing; and now He calls us to create, to fill the blank pages of our lives with our WORDS, our stories. We pray that you find a place of community and belonging here, and that you sense that you matter. May Christ be honored this weekend; may He give you the WORDS to share the stories that change lives. I am so glad you are here!

Happy Writing and stay connected.

P.S. Please understand if I am not my usual, energetic self! Blame it on the concussion. Hey, you try surviving getting hit by an SUV and live to tell!

– Cornelia Becker-Seigneur

Cornelia is the founding Director for the Faith & Culture Writer’s Conference, and blogs at www.corneliaseigneur.com.  If you have any questions about the conference, you can email her at cornelia@corneliaseigneur.com.

How to Pitch without Panicking

Chips_MacGregor_500 by Chip MacGregor

When I attend writers conferences, I spend a day or two listening to authors pitch their ideas. All sorts of people will sign up to talk with me, and they’ll have a variety of questions:

  • Will you look at my proposal?
  • Is this salable?
  • What advice do you have for me in my current situation?
  • Which publishing houses might be interested in my story?
  • How could I improve this proposal?”

I never know what I’m going to see or who I’m going to talk with, so I was interested when someone asked me this question: I’m getting ready for a writing conference, and while I think I have some great ideas for books, I find I always panic right before a pitch. I lose my train of thought (and my confidence), and have embarrassed myself more than once with rambling replies to agent & editor questions. What advice would you have for those of us who nerve out at key moments?

Happy to help. Here are my ten keys to pitching an agent at a writing conference:

1. Review your book. I’m assuming you’ve already written your novel, since nobody is really taking on new fiction projects unless they are complete (or, if it’s a nonfiction book you’re working on, you’ve at least written a good chunk of it). So go back and look it over. Remind yourself what it is you want to say about your book. Be ready to give me a quick overview at the start of our conversation  (“This is an inside look at the biggest crime spree in Nevada history, told by the detective who cracked the case” or “I’ve got an edgy suspense novel — 24 meets James Bond” or “Imagine if there was a way you could reduce your chance of getting cancer by 50%, and all it took was a simple change in your breakfast habits?”). In other words, be able to give me something interesting about your book in a sentence or two.

2. Create your script. Write out what you’re going to say about your book, word for word, so that you’re sure you cover all the essential elements in as few words as possible. Some conferences only give you three minutes to do this, though many give you ten minutes — which means you want to get through the book’s description in order to engage the agent or editor in conversation. So give me a quick fly-over of your story. Hit the major plot themes, say something about your lead characters, and reveal why it’s unique. Use specific images in your wording to make it stand out. And have an ending, so it’s clearly time to engage in conversation.

3. Practice your pitch. That is, you’re going to want to sit down with your script, and say it, out loud, as though I was already sitting across the table from you. Don’t skip this part — it’s what will make your pitch better and give you confidence. It’s what will best help you prepare, so you don’t get tongue-tied once we’re actually face to face. (Sure, when you go into the bathroom to practice out loud, your family will think you’ve lost your mind. Don’t worry! When you told them you wanted to be a writer, they already determined you had lost your mind.) I think knowing what you’re going to say and having already practiced it out loud is the single best thing you can do to develop confidence. You don’t really want to sit and read it to me. You want to sit and say it to me, which means you’ll want to go over this enough times that it just feels natural. You may bring your entire script with you to the meeting, or you may just bring an outline with your bullet points. But practice saying it before you sit down and start talking with me.

4. Find the highlights. Think through how you’re going to make your book stand out to an agent who is going to hear 50 pitches at the conference. Maybe you have a great opening line. Perhaps your story is related to today’s news. Maybe you have unique qualifications for writing this book, or a huge platform to support it, or an endorsement from someone fabulous. Include that in your pitch. Don’t oversell the book (I don’t want to hear that this is the best fantasy since The Lord of the Rings), but let me hear something that will make me remember it. As my mentor once said to me, “Don’t tell me your novel is funny — read me a line that makes me laugh.”

5. Research the agents and editors. I don’t represent children’s books or poetry or gift books. Yet I know somebody is bound to make an appointment with me and start by saying, “I’ve got this wonderful gift book of poems for children that I want to tell you about.” (Then, when I explain that this might be a fabulous project, but it’s not going to be a fit for me, they’ll looked hurt and panicked, and they’ll turn in a critical comment about me to the conference director. Sigh…) Look, what I represent is on my website. The books I’ve represented are listed on Publishers Marketplace and Publishers Weekly. I have a blog where I talk about authors and projects. Anyone who can’t figure out what I do and don’t represent simply isn’t trying very hard. So spend some time researching, to make sure you approach the right people.

6. Know what you want. I will often say to writers, “What’s your expectation for this meeting?” Do they want career advice? Do they want to talk about the salability of their story? Do they want to ask questions about creating a better proposal? Knowing what you want from the person you’re meeting is critical. And if it’s simply, “I want to find an agent to represent my work,” then have realistic expectations. You’re not going to get signed by an agent at a conference. (And if you get offered representation by somebody who hasn’t so much as read your work, be aware that you’re about to sign with a bozo.) A more realistic expectation would be, “This agent agreed my story sounds interesting, and he/she is going to go back, read my proposal, and engage me in a conversation of some kind.” This is a business, and you don’t race to say YES to the first guy who expresses random interest in your work. You do your due diligence.

7. Have something with you. I differ from a lot of agents in that I think you’re always best to have a short overview and some sample pages with you at the meeting. You may not get to them, but what if you tell me something and I say, “Holy cow — that sounds amazing! Can you show me some writing?” Publishers aren’t buying ideas, they’re buying writing. So having some with you is a good idea. I realize some conferences will dissuade authors from bringing any writing, since the fact is most of us won’t take pages with us — too bulky for a carry-on, the pages will just get bent, and we really just want to read it on a laptop anyway. Still, I like talking with an author, then having him or her show me the first couple pages of the book. That tends to reveal if this person is actually a writer, or just someone with a cool idea.

8. Look good. You’re meeting with a professional. Dress like one.

9. Be polite. Everybody likes meeting nice, interesting writers who can talk naturally about their books. Nobody likes meeting an arrogant know-it-all. (On more than one occasion I’ve had authors ask me to sign a non-compete before talking. Good grief… I decline, and start looking at my watch.) So have a conversation. Don’t stalk me. Show me you’re a real person. If you’re nervous, take a deep breath and tell me you’re nervous (I’ll say to you, “then forget the speech, and just tell me about the book you wrote”). Editors and agents are simply people working in the industry, the way you work in your field. Most are pretty good at what they do. You really don’t have to fear them, or act like you’re meeting the Royal Family. They are there to talk with you about your writing.

10. Listen to the response you receive.  Don’t be surprised if an editor doesn’t like your idea, or if an agent suggests changes. They could be all wet, but they’re trying to do their job by offering you some experienced perspective. So listen, take the criticism, and reflect later on whether or not you’ll implement their idea. But don’t use your small bit of time to argue. I think my least favorite part of one-on-one meetings is having an author argue with me — not because I’m always right, but because they paid money to come hear what I have to say, and now they want to haggle with me over it. (But, if you’re taking notes, I am always right.)


 

Chip is a book guy with a long list of credentials.  He’s a published author and popular writers conference speaker. He’s also a literary agent who has secured more than a thousand book deals for authors he has represented. Chip’s blog is regularly on Writers Digest’s list of  “101 Best Websites for Writers.”  Meet him at the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference  Maybe you can even pitch you book to him! But SIGN UP soon as spots are filling up!

Stop hiding from fear of failure

Marc SchelskeBy Marc Alan Schelske

Like you, I’ve got a project I’m supposed to be working on.  I’m supposed to be completing the written content for an online course I’m developing.

Most of the time I’m pretty focused on getting things done. Most of the time. But right now, I’m finding myself infinitely distracted. So many things to do. So many justifications. Social media to build connections for my writing. Another round of research. Reading just one more book full of insights on how I can be a better writer or blogger.

Lots of things to do, but honestly, it’s all just a distraction. I’m feeling enormous pressure and resistance around the one thing I really want to be doing right now. Why?

Because I’m a perfectionist.

I care a great deal about every detail. I want the things that I do to be excellent. Beautiful things inspire people. As an artist, it’s far more interesting for me to engage in crafting something elegant. The world is better when people care about excellence. But there’s something more here, something darker.

Perfectionism is a shield that hides fear of failure.

If something were truly perfect, it couldn’t fail, right? At least that’s our myth. I’ve known incredibly talented musicians who spent years tweaking their songs, rather than releasing them, and writers who will write and re-write and re-write, rather than let another human read their work. Failing to move forward is its own smothering failure.

Anne Lamott named this demon exactly when she wrote these words:

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life… I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.”

Stop hiding from failure.

Fear of failure is the real enemy, and perfectionism is its voice. This fear results in paralysis or, in my case, eternal distraction. If the book never comes out, then I’ll never be critiqued on my concept, or my theology, or my writing style, or my font choice, or the hat I’m wearing in my picture. That feels so much safer.

It is safer, but it’s not life.

Steve Jobs is famously credited as saying “Real artists ship.” They do the thing they say they do. They write, or sing, or dance not in their bedroom, but out in the world where it matters.

Maybe you shouldn’t be allowed to call yourself a thing–a writer for instance–until you’ve done it in a place and time where your failure would matter, where others could judge your performance, where you had to push through the fear of being rejected and do the thing you love anyway, out in public where everyone can see.

My heart says, “I will be a writer, if I can just write exceptionally well,” but I don’t think that’s true. The truth is that I am a writer when I push through the fear of rejection and failure and share my writing with you.  After all, we are all just rough drafts.

(Oh, hey! That’s the theme for this year’s conference: Rough Draft: From Blank to Beautiful! Letting go of perfectionism is a big part of that journey.)
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Marc Alan Schelske is the Launch Coordinator and crazy-note-taking secretary for the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference. He loved attending the 2014 event that he came back this year to help! He blogs about intentional spiritual living at Marc Alan Schelske

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God, gender and the use of pronouns

Tony KrizBy Tony Kriz 

Today on “Off The Highway,” The Shack and Cross Roads author, William Paul Young (whom we just announced is a featured Faith & Culture Writers Conference speaker), addresses an issue for which he is, uniquely, both a lightning rod and a thoughtful scholar.  In The Shack, Paul famously embodies God the Father, “Papa,” as an African-American woman and the Spirit as a wispy Asian woman.

I want to focus today’s post on an implication of Paul’s theology… a very practical implication for me in my vocation.

As a writer on topics of faith and spirituality, God is often the subject of my writings.  At this point in my writing development, one issue that I am working through is the use of God-pronouns in my writings.

To put it simply, do I refer to God as exclusively “he” or do I mix in both “he” and “she” references.  Straight talk.

Paul Young, mixes his references. For instance, he most typically refers to the Spirit as “she” since the Hebrew word for Spirit is grammatically a feminine word.

I had an article published earlier this week on a national website.  As happens, minor edits were made by the editors.  A punctuation correction here, a phrase added there.

In this article, the editors changed the word “God” to “he” at several points.

Look, I get it.  From the traditional editorial model, I use the word “God” too often, sometimes multiple times in one sentence.  I say “Godself” instead of “himself”.  My motivation is to avoid the gender question as often as possible.

Here’s the deal:  I would probably prefer to weave in both “he” and “she” in reference to God.  I believe that this would be more ontologically true of God’s character, even though it would be a shock to my religious-literary tradition.  However, I know that because of that shock, many, many people from my traditions would be offended by references to God as “she.”

On the other hand, referring to God as “he,” particularly if it is exclusively as “he” is also offensive to a significant group of people that I very much care for, a group that has often experienced indefensible abuse at the hand of males.  I want to write as inoffensively as possible.  I desire to be heard.

So what am I left with?  I can either risk offending (thus losing my message) a fairly large group by using “she” AND “he” for God OR offend another group of people (for whom the offense is often much more visceral) by sticking strictly with “he.”

My solution.  Since we don’t have an all encompassing or “neutral” pronoun in English, I try to avoid pronouns for God as much as possible.  Even if it makes my writing slightly more wooden.  If you read my most recent book ALOOF, you may even notice that from the start of the book to the end, my use of God-pronouns decreases along the way.

And why not?  Even if it is wooden, this is God we are talking about.  Throughout human history there has been a special deference to the names of God.  Scribes would use a different quill when writing a word for God.  Orators use unique and specific phrasing when speaking God’s name(s) aloud.  Why not also remove the use of pronouns, at least in English, so that whenever God is referenced the full gender-spectrum is always embodied in each use.

What do you think?

On the other hand, I am also playing with the idea of using the pronoun “they” for God, instead of “he” or “she.”  It removes the gender dilemma.  And it was God who referred to Godself saying “Let US create humankind in OUR image… Let US create them male and female.”  Maybe a transition to “they” could provide a lovely solution.  Also, it would be fun to watch auto-grammar-correct deal with a sentence like: “When God speaks to people, They tend to do so in a way that surprises.”

[Watch today’s episode to hear more of William Paul Young’s thoughts on the topic.]


Tony Kriz (D. Min.) is an author/teacher of faith and culture through media and at universities, conferences and communities of faith, and returns as one of our speakers at this year’s Faith & Culture Writers Conference,  for which he serves on the Advisory Board. He has taught in the spheres of Intercultural Studies and Spiritual Formation at Multnomah University and Warner Pacific, among others.  In addition to his recent book Aloof, he’s the author of  Neighbors and Wise Men: Sacred Encounters in a Portland Pub and Other Unexpected Places(Thomas Nelson, 2012).

Many were first introduced to this unique thinker under the name “Tony the Beat Poet” through Donald Miller’s book, Blue Like Jazz. Tony has served in places as diverse as the Muslim world and Reed College. Tony lives with his family in North Portland in an imbedded, intentional community.

Website: www.tonykriz.com | Twitter: @tonykriz

Three Essentials for Writing Words that Matter

Emily FreemanBy Emily Freeman

I recently watched a four and a half minute video where author and pastor John Ortberg remembers his friend, Dallas Willard. One quick segment shows a clip from a conversation John and Dallas had only a few months before Dallas passed away.
John: “How do we help people – if somebody wants to think about, “How is my spiritual life going or how is my soul doing?” – how do we help people ask and answer that question?”

Dallas: “Well, very slowly. One at a time, we listen to them . . . I think the next thing is a question and not a statement: What’s bothering you? Start there.”

They talk some more and then John makes a joke.
John: “What’s bothering you? could be an interesting liturgical question – to start the church service asking, What’s bothering you? And the people could respond back, And also you.”

I laughed out loud when he said it and so did the audience. Then, as the clip ends, Dallas can be heard saying, “That would be absolutely revolutionary.”

I had to pause the video at that moment, three minutes and fifty-five seconds in, Dallas’ deep voice and thoughtful statement hanging there in the air over my desk. That would be absolutely revolutionary. I knew I agreed with Dallas but it took me a few minutes to figure out why.

I don’t remember being expressly taught not to be bothered, but somewhere along the way I learned it anyway. To ask myself or someone else what is bothersome seems like a self-focused, self-indulgent invitation to rant or complain. But what if we were willing to look deeper in? Instead of manufacturing peace by shooing away my frustration or smoothing out my ruffled feathers, I am learning the importance of getting quiet enough to honestly consider what bothers me – not just on the surface, but deep within my soul. Sometimes what I learn is ugly or uncomfortable. But there are other times I discover right next to my frustration lives a drop of passion I didn’t realize was there and a spark of hope I didn’t realize I needed.

What does this have to do with writing words that matter? When it comes to uncovering my authentic voice as a writer, the first thing I have to know is what is bothering me. Once I’m able to honestly access my frustrations, I can begin to uncover the passion and hope that live close-by. This is how all four of my books were born.

Being frustrated doesn’t make me qualified or ready. But it does wake something up within me, something that compels me to move and want to get ready. The frustration rolls into a compulsion towards change, passion to communicate and to move into the chaos of the questions even if I don’t have all the answers. But being frustrated about an issue and compelled to do something about it won’t sustain the message for the long-term. For me, what really keeps me moving is the hope of something better. It’s important for these three things to work together – frustration, passion, and hope. Otherwise, my voice will be something I don’t intend.
Passion and hope without frustration feels inauthentic.
If I’m not bothered deeply enough, no one else will be either. Frustration is the spark that fuels the passion and the hope. Without it, my writing won’t have enough life to meet a strong enough felt need or to tell a compelling story.
Frustration and hope without passion leads to detachment.
If I’m frustrated and have hope for change but I’m not passionate about the issue, I won’t be able to engage it with enough heart to make a difference. Love is tucked deeply inside passion, and we don’t want your loveless art.
Frustration and passion without hope leads to cynicism.
In my experience, when I am frustrated and passionate without hope, I’m vulnerable to cynicism. If I don’t have hope for change, despair creeps in and my writing feels too dark and filled with angst. Without hope, I write afraid.

Frustration wakes me up. What frustrates you? Passion gets me moving. What compels you? Hope keeps me going. What do you most hope for? I’m thankful for Dallas Willard’s revolutionary question: What’s bothering you? As writers, may we be brave enough to answer it, passionate enough to engage it, and hopeful enough to influence change.

 

Emily FreemanEmily is the author of A Million Little Ways, Grace for the Good Girls, and Graceful. She shares her words and photographs on her own website at www.ChattingAtTheSky.com. We are honored to welcome Emily as one of our featured speakers at the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference.

Tell your naked honest truth

marc-schelske-web-108By Marc Schelske

I started calling myself a writer a little more than a year ago.  The truth is that I’ve been writing all of my life. I’ve got a stack of book starts buried in lost corners of my computer. I’ve been writing original content in the course of my employment for almost 20 years now. I self-published a book on Amazon almost exactly 2 years ago. (Man, was that cool!)

Then, at last year’s Faith & Culture Writer’s Conference I pitched a book and ended up with an agent! But even still, it took a little stern encouragement from Jeff Goins to push me over the emotional line of actually referring to myself as a writer.

One of the tasks I started thinking about as I started taking my writing more seriously was the serious quest that all writers must embark on: “Finding my voice.”

I worried about my writing voice as I blogged. I fretted that I might invest so much time building a blog, then discover I was writing in the wrong voice all along. Then what?

I started paying attention to the voice of writers I admired.  What were the secret ingredients? How did Ann Lamott come off so self-effacing, so honestly-insecure and hilarious? What made John Gruber’s technology writing so engaging? What allowed him to be so darn opinionated and yet not off-putting?  I was thinking about my voice, and then I was thinking about my thinking about my voice. That’s a stressful mind-game if ever there was one!

Then I remembered something.  I had already found my voice once.

I’ve been a professional speaker for… well a little more than 20 years now. I’m closing in on a thousand presentations. During that time, I went through a host of stages.

  • There was the “Karaoke stage” where I tried speaking in the style and tone of various famous speakers I admired.
  • There was the “Memorized Perfection stage” where I not only wrote the presentation word-for-word, but then memorized the tone, the gestures, the whole darn thing.
  • For a few years I was in the “Speaking Factory stage” where I presented three different original talks every week for two years straight.

Through all of that I’ve tried on a pile of different voices.  I’ve channeled African American preachers, comedians, TED talk presentations, professors, and the voice I imagine favorite authors speaking in. In all of that time, I was building skills.  I was building experience. I was building courage.  But I wasn’t really finding my voice.

I found my voice when I decided what I really had to offer. 

I’ve been a preacher for most of my public speaking experience, so I had the authority of scripture and the buy-in of congregations that wanted to be taught.  But we’ve all heard preachers. We’ve heard preachers talk about the very same scripture. What makes the difference between one you connect with and one you don’t?

At first I thought what I had to offer was great scholarship. So, I’d study and research and prepare so I could understand my material as deeply as I could.  That helped me be accurate and thoughtful, but it wasn’t my voice.

Then I thought what I had to offer was well-crafted material presented with excellence.  So, I’d write and re-write. I’d practice and practice. That made my presentations less painful for the audience for sure, but it wasn’t my voice.

At one point I thought what I had to offer was a twist, a new way of looking at an old truth. So, I’d hunt and pray and reflect on my material, always looking for a new angle. That made my work more interesting — sometimes in a helpful way, sometimes not so much…  It also wasn’t my voice.

I found my voice when I learned that what I have to offer, my unique view, was my honest authentic vulnerable truth. 

Over and over I experienced this.  I’d put hours and hours into a presentation, crafting every edge, and the audience would be unmoved. Then I’d take a risk, push past the very visceral panic in my gut, and share something from my own journey. Some moment of insecurity or fear, a place where I blew it, my own weakness and doubt.  Those moments? Every. Single. Time. People responded. They were moved.  They were challenged. They grew.

I found my voice when I started telling my truth.

As a writer, I’m re-learning this lesson. I’m re-learning what it looks like to offer great content, to do it in a way that connects with people—but most of all, to do it in the most honest, authentic, vulnerable way I can bear. That’s where my voice resides.

It’s a scary place to write from. But it’s also when you start writing things that matter, things that will move people. Write as much as you can. Master the technical skills. Blog, because blogging is to writers what gigging is to musicians—it’s practicing in public. But most importantly, tell your naked honest truth. That’s where you’ll find your voice.
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Marc Alan Schelske attended his first Faith & Culture Writers Conference in 2014, and returns this year as an important member of the leadership planning team. He serves as the email and launch coordinator as well the scribe.

Marc is the author of Discovering Your Authentic Core Values, an upcoming online course called, “How to read the Bible to Hear God and Grow without Having to be a Legalist, a Theology Professor, or a Crackpot,” and has a book in development about the intersection of faith and emotion, and is represented by the DC Jacobson Agency.

Marc grew up in Ohio, but he’s lived in the Northwest long enough to feel like a native. Marc is a husband, dad of two, speaker, writer, hobbyist theologian, recovering fundamentalist who drinks tea & rides a motorcycle.

Visit him at: MarcAlanSchelske.com |Twitter: @Schelske

 

The Quest for Epiphany

 mult9_2_015-2by Tony Kriz

There is something that happens when pen hits the page, when pixels populate the screen. It is like the unknown becomes known.  It doesn’t always happen that way.  In fact it is the categorical opposite of predictable, of formulaic, but when it happens, it is magic.

Writing transcends consciousness.

I am not a genius writer. Far from it.  I have a simple formula that guides the majority of the chapters of my long form writing (books).  It goes like this (I can’t believe that I am admitting this):

You start with a story.  The magic of a story is not its drama.  It is not its otherworldliness.  It is not that it is exceptional.  The magic of a story is found in its meaningfulness.  You may ask, “Meaningfulness for the reader?”

No.  The magical element is the meaningfulness for the author.  Magic and meaningfulness exist in a delicate marriage.  When a writer writes out of their own visceral meaningfulness and into honest expression there is the real hope that magic will happen.

One more thing… When I write a book, I am essentially asking myself one formative question.  When I wrote Neighbors and Wise Men, I was asking myself “What are my formative memories when non-Christians taught me how to follow Jesus?”  In my current book, Aloof, I was asking myself “What are my formative memories about God’s presence and God’s troubling absence?”

Once a story is identified, I often don’t actually know exactly WHY it is formative, I simply know that it is.  I begin the chapter by teasing my best guess as to what the stories formative lesson might be; that is my introduction.

Next I tell the story.  I write very existentially.  If you were to happen upon me writing a chapter in a corner booth at a local pub or coffee shop, odds are you would see my face contorting with the emotions of the story I am writing.  You might see my eyes filled with moisture or a hotly furrowed brow.  That is how I write.

When the story is fully told, including a well-imagined setting, sympathetic characters and a believable conflict and climax, I move to the chapter’s conclusion.

This is where the magic happens.  It does not happen every time, but when it does, it is one of the great endorphin cocktails.  Suddenly, as if I am an observer and the chapter itself is a seducing character sitting across the table, the true meaning of the story blossoms right before my eyes.  

I rarely see it coming.  How could I?  And the surprising frequency that this newly realized meaning is harmonious with my spackled-together introduction (bringing new meaning I could not have predicted) is soothing, comforting and arousing.

If we were to flip together through the pages of my books, both of us would probably be surprised by how many chapters I would admit “I did not know where this chapter was going to end when I started it.”

Keep writing.  Write viscerally… existentially… and dare the magic.

Let the epiphanies come.  That’s how we move from the blank page to something beautiful.

Tony is the Writer in Residence at Warner Pacific College, the sponsoring host for the 2015 Conference; Tony is also on the Faith & Culture Writers Conference advisory board, and a speaker at this year’s event.  He has been at every single Faith & Culture Writers Conference, either as an attender, speaker, keynote speaker, advisor, or leader. His new book Aloof: Figuring Out Life with a God Who Hides is coming out in January, 2015. Tony writes at www.tonykriz.com.