Today, I’ve invited Linda Boulanger to visit me in my virtual living room, to talk about her latest book Becoming, which is a collection of inspirational, faith-based short-short stories.

Hi, Linda.

Hi, Tim!

Becoming starts with a story about a young woman whose father bails her out of jail, which will inevitably have political repercussions for him.

The story is called “A Ready Heart.” It’s actually one of my favorites. I’ve been asked multiple times by individuals if they can use the story with their youth groups, this one and “Sweet Success for My Teen & Me,” which is also in the book. I believe it is because the story clearly focuses not on the fact that we make mistakes, but more so on what we do with the lessons learned from those mistakes.

That’s a wonderful theme.

Beyond that, how others help us move away from them, as well, can make a world of difference. Darcy Adams, the main character, seems to be a magnet for trouble. Her dad, a prominent attorney in the city, could have chosen to publicly berate his daughter, as did the parents of her best friend and cohort in crime. After all, he would undoubtedly be slammed in the media and his credibility questioned for having an out-of-control daughter. He knows, however, that there is good inside of his daughter, and continues to believe for her until her heart is ready to accept the wonderful plans God has in store for her life. He doesn’t give up on her, allowing her the time she needs to not give up on herself either.

What inspired you to write Becoming?

The gentleman that deserves the credit for my first publishing success literally backed me into a corner and forced me to begin a weekly writing challenge on a site called FaithWriters.com. Okay, so he didn’t do it literally, as he lives in Colorado and I am in Oklahoma. Still, he continuously harped until I relented. My first story entered—not coincidentally part of Becoming— The first story I entered, “Dark Chocolate,” won a second place in the Beginners Level. I was ecstatic, to say the least. I pasted my success all over my Facebook page, my only means of social marketing at the time, his Facebook page, the pages of all my friends, called and emailed everyone I knew. I was excited!

The win, however, forced me to move up a level and my next story, while placing well in the top 40, did not win one of the 3 top spots.

The next story after that, the one that begins the book Becoming, did, and moved me up to the Advanced Level. It would take me two more weekly challenge tries with stories again placing well but not in the top 3, before I “hit it big” with “Unwanted”, an emotion-packed story that allows the reader inside the head of the main character to see the wounds of betrayal heal when she is forced to become the caretaker of a child born of her husband’s infidelity. The story not only won a first place, it received an Editor’s Choice award and I was asked to allow it to be published.

So Becoming grew out of stories you had written for FaithWriters.com.

Well, that gentleman is Patrick Sipperly. We co-wrote Time Out on a Roller Coaster, a collection of light and fun short stories. Pat and I went to high school together in the ’80′s—I’ll date myself here—only to reconnect on Facebook many years later. An aspiring screenwriter himself, one day as we chatted he asked me what I wanted to do. I told him my dream was to hold a book in my hands with my name on the cover. His reply: “Let’s do it.” Four months later, we had our book, a book that I wanted but probably would not have had without a little friendly handholding. That’s why encouragement is so very important. It can make dreams come true.

Pat and I were brainstorming for another collection of short stories. We wanted them to be more faith-based than those in Roller Coaster. I pulled together everything even remotely faith-based that I’d written to date and sent them to him. “What about any of these?” I asked. His reply: “You’ve got a book right there.” He was right, and they were stories I really wanted to share. I began compiling and, as he noted, many of them had common themes beyond faith. They deal with different phases of life and with personal transformation.

That became the theme for Becoming.

Right. The stories are laid out and written in a way to make the reader feel as if she is walking through life, from the young lady in the story that begins the book, clear through to one of the last stories that has a husband writing a “love note” to his wife, reminding her not to be sad at his funeral. The book touches many subjects along the path of life. Some are hard, as in “When Lines Are Crossed,” when the main character realizes she’s very nearly crossed the lines of infidelity, not in body but in the cyber world. Others are fun, like “A Woman of a Certain Age” that portrays the humorous transformation of the aging woman. I love romance so many of them have the theme of love in some way. My overall desire was to create a book that would allow the reader to escape into a fictional world for brief periods of time, yet be overall uplifting as well. And while they are all faith-based, I would not consider any of them to be preachy.

What’s your favorite story in the book?

This is an extremely difficult question because I fall in love and feel a connect of some sort with every single character I create. I’ll go out on a limb here and choose “His Blood For Yours.” This story received mixed reviews. I was told the writing was flawless, the main character marvelous, and the story spiritually challenging. The overall gist of the story is: a surgeon stumbles upon a crime scene, and she saves a man on the spot, who ends up being the gunman that shot several people. He tells her when she visits him in the hospital that he’s not a bad man but had a bad day. That line hit a nerve with people. I was told he was a bad man! What I’d hoped to show was that people often do things when run by emotion. The doctor shares real compassion with him and gives him hope. She shares with him about the Great Physician whose blood still cleans the stains from all of our bad days. She ministers to him throughout the story. I like it!

That sounds like a story I could fall in love with and see myself writing. I haven’t read the story yet, but it could even be that readers reacted negatively, because the story challenged them to identify in part with the villain.

Can you tell us about your next project?

Could we expand that question to “projects”?! Just kidding. However, I never seem able to work on just one thing. My “biggie” is my first published novel. Notice I said “first published” as I have a slew of manuscripts that were handwritten and are currently being transformed into properly formatted electronic versions. The first born to see the world, however, is nearing first-draft completion. Titled A Marriage of Necessity, it is a modern-day coming-together of a man and woman, each merely needing the help of the other. As their hearts begin to connect, the threads are threatened by the doubts put into the head of the heroine, Terry, by a scheming ex-husband. Added fears are compounded when she begins to feel ill and suspects foul play by her new husband’s eldest daughter, a child who clearly does not want her as part of their family.

Sounds potentially very exciting.

I like twists and unexpected turns, and the storyline of this book has allowed me to throw in several, though the clues are all there to be found along the way. It’s receiving great reviews from pre-readers… and a couple of threats that she’d better not end up back with her ex-husband or else! I have not set a release date just yet although I’m expecting the first draft to be completed within the next month. We’ve done quite a bit of editing as we go, so hopefully it will come together quickly after that. People can keep track on my website, blog, Facebook, and Twitter. I’m everywhere… though not in a “stalkerish” way! (That’s from a radio station I often listen to.)

While I am working on A Marriage of Necessity, I’m having other manuscripts typed up, having my second children’s book illustrated, and working to finish up two others, keeping my blog updated, editing and formatting for others, continuing weekly writing challenges (though not necessarily every week), and I’ve started writing yet another book while jotting ideas down about a third one. I fit all this in between being wife and mother of 4 busy children and volunteering at my local no-kill animal shelter. Life is busy! I have actually tried to concentrate on a single project; however, I feel it stifles my creativity, and I actually get it done much more slowly.

You mentioned Facebook, Twitter, and so forth. Maybe I should list those web addresses.

Yes. As the owner of One Stop Publisher, an internet company designed to help others reach the dream of a hold-in-your-hand book without breaking the bank, I’m continually learning the importance of social marketing and networking. I encourage others, and have done so myself, to establish web presence. Author and book marketer Lori Newman told me the first thing she was asked when trying to pitch her book was how she planned to market it. That lets you know, authors are expected to do a lot of it themselves.

True. That’s a myth many new authors and non-authors hold, that the publisher markets the book for you. They usually don’t.

That in mind, as I mentioned above, I’m everywhere. I have my own author’s website, I’m on Facebook, Twitter, I write a blog, participate in author networking groups such as Coffee’s Hot and She Writes. Here are a few of the links:

My Author’s Website: www.LindaBoulanger.com
My Blog: The Shelf Life of a Novel Writing Book Writer: www.WritersShelfLife.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/BvilleOKAuthor
Also http://twitter.com/1StopPublisher
My Facebook pages: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Shelf-Life-of-Linda-Boulanger/269887526965
and http://www.facebook.com/pages/One-Stop-Publisher/349448759592

Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with us, Linda.

Be sure to check out Becoming as well as Linda’s other books, and subscribe to her blog and other feeds.

Till next time…
-TimK

Photo © 2007 Joshua Bousel CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

This past Saturday night began the Jewish holiday of Purim. Since Saturday was also the Sabbath, after morning services and lunch at our synagogue, we had games for the kids, crafts, a class on the book of Esther, a Jewish folk dancing class, pizza. Then we had evening services, followed by reading the story of Esther. This year, the kids also did an “Esther Reloaded” Purim play, parodied on Star Wars. Lots of laughs.

It’s tradition in Jewish synagogues to dress up in costumes on Purim, and we had plenty of them. The Little One dressed up as a cat. One boy was Indiana Jones. And one of my friends was a bar of ivory soap. But I think the best Purim costumes I ever saw still go to D and his wife S, back when S was still pregnant with their little boy. She came as an oven, with a loaf of bread baking inside. (A “bun” in the oven, get it?) And he was the chef. Ba dum bum.

We also had lots of Hamentashen, filled cookies folded in the shape of a three-cornered hat, such as that which Haman is said to have worn. In the story of Esther, Haman told Xerxes that the Jews were a terrorist threat and persuaded him have all the Jewish people in the land executed, before they caused national chaos. Haman did this because—quite frankly—a certain Jew ticked him off, and so naturally he resorted to mass genocide.

(I imagine him a petty, little man, not of the short-and-noble kind, but of the kind who stands strong and important and fat and is very insecure about his size.)

It’s also tradition, during the reading of the story, every time Haman’s name is mentioned, to shout “BOOOO!” and spin noise-makers or blast horns or whatever you can, just in case you weren’t clear on what we really think of him.

What Haman didn’t know, however, is that Xerxes’s beloved queen, Esther, just happened to be Jewish, and the man who had ticked Haman off just happened to be Esther’s cousin and adopted father. (Oops.) And so when Esther intervened, boy did the fit hit the shan.

I can just imagine that moment, in the queen’s banquet room, food and drink aplenty, servants in attendance, the king and queen reclining in their royal robes and jewelry, and Haman at his place of honor beside the king, enjoying a cup of wine with the royal family, feeling pretty good about himself, because only him, the most important advisor to the king, did Esther invite as an honored guest to this private banquet.

Then Xerxes asks, “My Queen, something has bothering you. I’ve seen it for two days now. You’ve been very sweet in planning this surprise dinner. Thank you so much. Please, whatever the problem is, let us help. What do you need? Just name it, up to half my kingdom, and it’s yours.”

“If I have found favor with you, O King,” Esther replies, “and if it pleases Your Majesty, please grant me my life—this is my petition—and spare my people—this is my request.”

At this point, Xerxes is wondering what she could possibly be talking about. “Grant me my life?” This must be a metaphor. “Spare my people?” Which people? Has someone threatened her? Who?

“I and my kinfolk,” Esther explains, “are to be destroyed and slaughtered and annihilated. If we had merely been sold into slavery, I wouldn’t have bothered you about it, because it wouldn’t have been worth disturbing the King for something so trivial. But—”

“Who is doing this?” Xerxes interrupts, frustration and fury clearly mounting on his face. “No one threatens you, ever. Where is the man who dares to do this?”

Esther turns her gaze to Haman, and slowly it dawns on the villain what he has done.

“My adversary and enemy,” Esther says, her voice wavering, tears beginning to form in her eyes, “is this vile man, Haman.”

Without a word, Xerxes stands and storms out of the room. He paces the palace garden for hours, trying to calm himself, trying to analyze the situation. He figures out that—unknown to him—Esther must be of Jewish ancestry, and that they are to be murdered, and that Haman had lied to him, because she and her family are clearly not of the evil, dangerous sort that Haman had described. But what can he do? He has already issued the order for their annihilation, and it can’t be undone. And now, for the second time in recent years, he is regretting one of his own edicts. Reflecting back, he acutely realizes that Haman was loyal to him only as a means to personal advancement. Xerxes always knew this was so, but it never bothered him so much before, because almost everyone honored him either out of ambition or out of fear. But that’s what made Esther and her family so different; they supported him not out of fear or ambition, but out of respect. Haman’s ambition never bothered Xerxes before, because it never before hit quite so close to home.

He returns to see Haman throwing himself at Queen Esther, on her couch, his hands grasping at her, pleading for pity, clearly not caring about the indignity.

“What now?!” the king snaps, his anger returning. “Killing her wasn’t good enough? Now you’re going to try to rape her, in my own house, right in front of me?!”

Haman did not live too much longer after that. He was dragged by armed guards, sobbing and pitiful, stripped of rank, a nothing, to be hanged on the very gallows that he himself had built on which to kill one of Esther’s own relatives.

We usually read this story as God’s justice triumphing over the selfish ambitions of an evil man. But this year, I saw it as something different. Because all of us, at one time or another, have worn Haman’s hat. Maybe we haven’t played fast and loose with the power of the king—and maybe this is also a story about the danger of the king’s power, because there are many people even in our society who regularly play fast and loose with that power, for their own passions or ambitions. But maybe we haven’t threatened the queen’s life. Maybe we haven’t attempted genocide. Maybe we aren’t “that bad.”

But we have acted on personal offense, and have rationalized hating others. We have disparaged good men. We have lashed out in righteous indignation at other human beings, regardless of whether or not they deserved it. We have failed to show mercy, because we didn’t see how it could help us. We’ve called people names, and out of fear have fought them as though they were enemies. We do this in our personal lives as well as our political lives.

Maybe Esther is also a story about the value of mercy. Not only mercy that we show to others—because if Haman had shown mercy, he ultimately would not have been executed. But also the mercy that God shows to us, because God no longer demands justice from us, but bestows His grace.

Photo: A Bible and cross on the Sibley family marker in the South Douglas Cemetery in Douglas, Massachusetts; photo © 2009 Svadilfari CC BY-ND 2.0

Sunday, a friend of mine in church was wearing a T-shirt from a band I didn’t recognize.

I asked, “Who are they? Is that a Christian band?”

“Well,” he said, “they’re a bunch of Christians who are in a band, but they’re not a Christian band.”

I understood immediately. “Like I’m a Christian who writes novels, but I don’t write Christian novels.”

But why don’t I write Christian novels, when that’s such a large and growing market? Or maybe a better question would be, why don’t the books I write fit into the “Christian” category?

I sometimes write characters who are Christian. Sometimes, my characters even go to church. In my next Ardor Point novel, I expect the main character to reach a spiritual crisis, which will transform her and redefine her life, and she will credit God with the solution. The last Ardor Point novel, From the Ashes of Courage, at its core is a story about unconditional love, which is a Christian theme. And in this story, Gail faces a crisis of meaning, which is a spiritual crisis. And I write from the perspective of a life-long Christian and Bible scholar. Why then can’t I sell the story as Christian fiction?

Because I’m still too much of a maverick. Neither Gail nor Eddie think much about religion, must less about Christianity. Gail is too caught up in her business and her own feelings about her life. And Eddie is too preoccupied with making ends meet on an ever reddening deficit, all while appearing to everyone else to be loaded with wealth (which he’s not). Neither of these characters go to church, but they are real people. They could even be you.

But that’s not the worst I’ve done. Not only does Eddie not go church, he also sleeps around, in a search for love and meaning. Moreover, Gail and Eddie end up sleeping together before they get married. The description of this act is more tame than some that you’ll see in mainstream YA novels, but that doesn’t matter. Premarital sex is not “Christian” (even though it’s so human that Christians themselves do it all the time).

I could fall back on the old writer’s chestnut, “My characters have to do what they do, because it’s part of their nature. As a writer, I have to follow their story; I can’t change it just because it’s politically incorrect.” We’ve all heard writers say something like this. “I didn’t make my character a philanderer-homophobe-sexist-racist; I just told his story.” But that’s disingenuous. As a writer, I create the characters. Yes, they have to do and say what’s in their nature, and yes, I have to follow their story as it plays out. But I get to define their natures, and I get to affect the story. Ultimately, as a writer, I can take the story anywhere I want it to go, and my only challenge is to make it seem plausible within the context of the story universe. So when Gail and Eddie make love, it’s not that “I have to follow their story.” Rather, this is simply part of the story I want to tell. There’s a deeply Christian message buried within that event, a message that relates directly to two of the major themes in the novel. The message is not preachy, and you may not even get it. Indeed, many Christians may not be able to find it, because you have to dig for it.

In general, Christian novels avoid any subject, like sex or violence, that makes its readers uncomfortable, but my stories I intend to stretch you out of comfort zone and challenge the way you think, to cause your mind to grow and your life to expand. If the story doesn’t make you a little uncomfortable, it’s not doing it’s job.

There are no preachers in my novels, and no preachiness— what the industry calls “didacticism.” No one trying to pump up their faith with pep-talk about church, or belief in Jesus, or love for God, or anything else. There are no stellar shows of faith. Even a Christian character (in an earlier story) needed to look up “Romans” in her Bible’s table of contents, because she simply didn’t know where it was in that oh-so-thick book. (To Bible scholars, that’s like needing to look up the letter “M” before you can find it in the dictionary.) My characters do not forgive those who hurt them— because real Christians don’t, either; rather, Christians struggle with forgiveness, and too many even rationalize that God wants them to be angry and bitter, and then they call it “tough love.” None of my characters stand steadfast, confident, peaceable, in their faith, because real Christians don’t do that either, because that’s not human nature. Many real-world Christians advocate war against our “enemies,” and they lobby the government to force others to behave in one way or another. Neither of these is a steadfast, confident, peaceable display of faith; rather, it is a display of fear, because it is human nature to be fearful. Love in faith is the antidote to our natural fears, and that’s a message you might find in one of my stories. My characters are never saints, because real people are not saints. Even the saints themselves weren’t saints, but they accepted God’s grace from the perspective of their own depravity, and they succeeded despite their own humanity. Similarly, my characters struggle with their own human nature, just as real people do.

My stories have no simplistic solutions, no religious clichés, no catchy slogans, no meaningless platitudes. I don’t appreciate these in a preacher’s sermon, and I don’t admire them in fiction. Rather, I write fiction that I would enjoy reading: stories that have realistic characters in interwoven conflicts and that inspire the reader to hope.

But this also means that I will probably never be able to sell my work as Christian fiction, or at least not as mainstream Christian fiction. Because in Christian fiction, the characters are always Christians (or at least the main characters are). Often, my characters are not, because most real people—even hard-core Christians—at best only give lip service to whatever faith they may claim. Christian fiction can be preachy, because its characters preach at each other (or even at themselves) simplistic platitudes and claims to faith, none of which address their human needs— That actually happens in real life, too, so if I were to write a Christian novel, it would only demonstrate how useless such sermons really are, and that would probably disqualify it from being called “Christian fiction” in the minds of many. In my Christian novel, the characters would search for faith in all the platitudes and wisdom that preachers try to inspire us with, and they would get a little emotional boost, but they would still be left empty in the end. They would look to God, and He would not be there. They would pray, but He would not hear them. Despondent, they would discover that real faith has little to do with any of that.

Religiosity pops up in fiction, and in real life. It used to make me uncomfortable, because I thought that I was supposed to be excited by it. Now, I react the same way I do when someone praises me for my performance during Sunday morning music: “Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate it,” which I really do. But I also know that for me, it’s no big deal, because it’s just what I do. In the same way, if someone says, “Praise God!” I can say “Amen,” and I really mean it. I smile politely, but these simple words cannot touch what my love for God and my faith in Him really mean to me. And that’s why I feel compelled to avoid them in my own stories, because they cover up true meaning. Only by digging to the root of the issue can we hope to see truth unfettered by platitudes, and that’s what I try to do in my stories.

So they’ll probably never be “Christian fiction.”

-TimK

P.S. I don’t want you to get the idea that I don’t read or haven’t enjoyed Christian fiction. I do, and I have, and I want to continue reading more of it. But unless the expectations of its readers change—or unless I’ve severely misjudged them—it’s likely that my stories will always be on the fringe with respect to that genre.

Yes, maybe Thanksgiving Comes First, but in this case, we actually do need to get started on the Christmas stuff early.

This year, as last, my church is participating in Operation Christmas Child, an annual charity drive conducted by Christian charity Samaritan’s Purse. Each year before Thanksgiving, Samaritan’s Purse collects wrapped shoeboxes, each packed with gifts, and distributes them to poor children around the world.

Last year, we sent out 61 boxes. This year, we already have—thanks to the efforts of a husband and wife team, who are spearheading the drive—numerous wrapped, empty shoeboxes, all ready and waiting for toys, school supplies, hygiene items, hard candy, clothes, jewelry, flashlights, and almost anything else we can get to put in them. We’re looking to fill 5 dozen boxes with gifts, all in time to be shipped out the week before Thanksgiving, because that’s how much time Samaritan’s Purse needs to get the presents to their young recipients by Christmas.

The promotional video we saw yesterday featured Zimbabwe, which is just one of the countries in which Samaritan’s Purse operates. This is a country in which the political establishment has actually accomplished that which politicians in more civilized countries can only dream: government looting, official corruption, widespread poverty, and the utter destruction of the local currency through inflation—all to the benefit of those running the economy. The children, as usual, get caught in the middle of it all.

At one point, talking about how overjoyed and appreciative the children are when they receive and open their gift boxes, one of the volunteers in the video mentioned, “It’s amazing that whatever they get, it’s just what they needed.” Probably because they need everything.

Our pastor, who has actually visited Zimbabwe, verified this: “Just the items you can put in a shoebox, it’s like giving them Toys-R-Us, the whole store.”

I can personally attest to this feeling, as there have been times when my family has been in a similar situation—in microcosm, not even close to what they live with in Zimbabwe. Even in microcosm, there’s a feeling that overtakes you, when you don’t know where the next week’s groceries are going to come from, or you don’t know how you’re going to pay this month’s bills, and you walk into the kitchen to find piles and bags of canned and boxed food, donated by someone who cares. And it doesn’t matter what kind of food it is. Your eyes start to well up, because right then, it’s the most wonderful sight in the world.

I know it’s a tough time for all of us—busy, hit by the recession. Even so, consider putting on an Operation Christmas Child drive in your own church.

More later…
-TimK

Isn’t it amazing, with the amount of time we as Christians spend in worship, and especially singing in worship, that we understand so little about it.

This thought strikes me now, just a couple nights away from the next “In the Deep” (Saturday night, at which I’ll be subbing on bass, because their usual bassist is getting married). “In the Deep” is a biweekly, interdenominational praise and worship concert. Concert after concert through the autumn and winter, crowds gather from all over the area to soak in the candlelit ambience, to fill the Newton, MA sanctuary with over an hour of passionate worship in song, and then to gather downstairs for snacks and fellowship.

Why?

Worship is essentially an emotional experience

You may not realize it—and you may even recoil at the suggestion. But singing in worship—whatever your worship style—is essentially an emotional experience, because it invokes emotional responses and fulfills important emotional needs:

• Worship is a group activity. Even when you’re worshipping alone, you’re probably doing so in the style and with memories of a group worship experience. We as humans are instinctively social, extraordinarily so. So doing things together as a group is very important to our emotional health. At its best, it allows one to be part of something bigger than oneself. At its worst, it produces herd mentality and groupthink. (And churches can experience both.)

• We naturally express emotions via song. Music is primal, innate, spanning cultures and languages. We sing to express happiness, sadness, anger, despair, love. And this is a quality we share with other animals, too. Birds sing. Whales sing. Even mice, it has been found, sing to potential mates. Something inside of you is hard-wired to express yourself through song. This is not something any of us thinks or reasons about, because logically, singing is no more valuable than speaking. Rather, it is something that you do naturally, out of the impulses of your heart.

• Singing relaxes and hypnotizes. When you sing or chant, you breathe deeply, exhaling over long periods of time. You also focus your attention on the words and music that you’re singing. And in worship services, you may be reading lyrics off a song sheet or overhead projection screen. All of these relax you, clear your mind of distractions, and focus your thoughts on whatever the song is about.

• Worship comforts and encourages us by focusing our attention on God’s love and power. If singing in general relaxes and hypnotizes, then singing in worship focuses your eyes on God. But more than that, it allows you to connect whatever issues you’re facing with God’s promises. This can help relieve stress, reduce anxiety, and lift depression, because it can be a way for us to see how to get our other needs met—or at least to trust that God will make a way.

Dr. Lynne Ransom, Music Educator and Director of VOICES Chorale, talking about why people sing, described a choral performance that was for him a deeply emotional and spiritual experience:

When I performed Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion… I found that performing the three-hour piece was a deep and mystical experience, creating a musical mood that lasted for several days after the performances. Bach’s music and the physical, emotional and intellectual energy involved transported me to another way of being, of sound and energy-flow that is not based in language.

Worship and spiritual growth

No one would argue with me that singing in worship is linked to spirituality. But the nature of that link many of us misunderstand.

Why do tribal holy-men spend hours chanting in order to achieve a heightened plane of consciousness? Why do mountain climbers risk life and limb on an essentially pointless goal, to reach a challenging summit? Why do any of us step outside of our comfort zone and try new things or seek new challenges, when what we’re doing is working fine enough?

Psychologists Joe Griffin and Ivan Tyrrell propose an answer in their book Human Givens: A New Approach to Emotional Health and Clear Thinking. They describe spirituality as “seeking to fulfill an inner need through finding its completion in the environment.” This is why the holy man chants. This is why the mountaineer climbs. This is why Dr. Lynne Ransom sings and why singing the Bach piece was so significant to him. And this is also why we worship.

But Griffin and Tyrrell make an important distinction, between spiritual growth and spiritual stagnation:

What a large part of this world mistakes for spirituality is nothing more than brainwashing by ideological organizations—from the extreme activities of fundamentalists like the Taliban in parts of Asia today, so reminiscent of the Christian Inquisition in medieval Europe, to the evangelical cults and happy-dappy new age religions that thrive in Western countries by gathering people together in groups to sing and emote. They sincerely believe that the feelings they generate in their practices are related to spirituality, whereas, however enjoyable they may be, they are manifestations of the “herd instinct,” which we share with rats, sheep and wildebeest. Whilst herding does indeed fulfill an inner need (safety in numbers), it is at a very primitive level. [emphasis added]

See, spirituality is not in itself just an emotional high. It means something much more. And spirituality is something unique to humans. Rats may sing to their mates, but humans can actually grow by it.

Or we can stagnate.

This is why it’s important not just to attend service and chant through the liturgy only as a religious rite. Rather, it’s important to chant through the liturgy because you really want to, because it holds meaning for you, because it focuses your mind on God and his love and his promises, because it heightens your awareness of your place in the world around you, because it helps you to mentally link your needs, goals, and desires with the means to make them a reality.

So this is why…

This is why, I hope, people attend “In the Deep”—mostly 20-somethings, probably searching for meaning, if they’re anything like I was at that age. Not just for the emotional high, but for the spiritual high as well. And it’s why, I hope, they come back over and over again.

The first time I attended “In the Deep” was last year’s season opening. Afterward, I wrote:

Just got back from the 2008-2009 premiere. It’s been a long time since I sang that loud or got so emotional over what I was singing. I hope I didn’t destroy my voice, because I’m leading songs tomorrow morning.

Afterward, I asked the gang how serious they were about filling up the whole place, because I think they could do it, and easily. They just have to let not-yet-fans know what they’ve got!

Maybe I was a little over-exuberant. But that night, I had realized something about social marketing that had completely eluded me before, that people love to share what excites them. And so I suggested that the “In the Deep” leaders go around to each person afterward, during the fellowship time, and just ask informally what was the most significant thing that happened to him that evening. Get a quote for the website. Or encourage people to comment on the website, because other people could have been here getting what you got here tonight, if only they knew it was available.

Now, whether or not “In the Deep” ever does that is irrelevant. The point of the story is what happened to me. This fundamental marketing principle had never been so real or so obvious to me before that night.

That’s my little story of spiritual growth, how God helped me understand and internalize a marketing principle.

-TimK

My Facebook friends gave me a number of possible answers, but nothing really hit home, this past Saturday morning in synagogue when we read a selection from First Samuel chapter 1. Suddenly, my heart lit up, as if God had spoken to me through this account. As a Christian, this was a a message I could particularly identify with.

It inspired me to write a short-short story based on 1 Samuel 1:1-20, entitled “Baby Boy,” involving a character from the Abe’s Turn universe (because I know these characters already, and I wanted to use a deep character for this story). I also included in it the wonderful storytelling style I’ve admired in Jewish tradition. I posted it on on my stories blog. Click here to read it now.

I wasn’t going to put up another blog post today, but this little tidbit about friendships blew me away. And so I had to post it, and I had to post it now, and this is the right place to post it, so here it is. Even if you’re not religious, I hope you find this uplifting.

As I mentioned last week, I’m editing my dad’s new book, Jots & Tittles: Discovering Truth from the Language of Scripture. (And BTW, I fixed the “L” in the title so that you can’t accidentally misread it.) I’m busy busy busy editing it, because the first edition is on a fast-track to press and way more work than I thought it would be and way behind schedule. And if I didn’t have a sense of urgency about it before, I definitely have one now. So I’ll make this quick.

I just ran across this paragraph, speaking about the fruit of the Spirit, “peace,” in Galatians 5:22. Maybe it’s because of something that recently happened in my life, which I haven’t discussed here (because it involves someone else). But this little jot from Dad’s book really hit me.

If the turmoil of guilt has been calmed by forgiveness; if the nightmare of yesterday’s mistakes, the traumatic hurts of the past, have somehow been reconciled; if you can somehow learn to hug again, learn to recognize kindness for what it really is, with no attached strings or hidden agenda; somehow, if you can learn to accept others and be accepted by them, this is peace!

-TimK

The quick-and-dirty concept cover for Dad's new book—with a possible marketing problem that no one has noticed yet. (Click to enlarge.)

Recently, a friend commented on her little one’s first day of school. Must have been preschool. The little tyke was so excited, she was up and ready by 8:15 in the morning.

For me, though, this week, the Missus is on staycation (except 2 mornings she needs to go in and catch up on work—she’s salaried), and I was looking forward to her taking the kids out of the house to do fun things with them. The house being quiet and empty, I was hoping maybe I could post a fun video today. But so far, it hasn’t worked out that way, because the Missus has phone calls to make and stuff to clean and stuff to pack for moving and stuff to load up into my in-box, which I promised to do but I haven’t gotten a round two yet. Therefore, I really haven’t gotten much done today, and now my head is beginning to hurt, a slow, dull ache.

Oh! I can so not wait for the kids to go back to school!

(I’m going to get to the book cover. Trust me. Just give me a moment, please…)

So I hope you can understand why I’m so grouchy. And why I won’t be talking with any of you about universal healthcare. Because the next person who cites the New York Times in support of a stupid idea that 10 seconds worth of Googling would have dispelled, in the mood I’m in right now, he’s likely to get my fist up his nose. So we can just pick up our conversations later in the week… maybe.

Truthfully, though, the Missus is trying really, really hard—I can tell—not to interrupt me. She’s controlling her natural impulse to badger me about stuff I haven’t gotten done right this minute, and basically letting me focus enough to finish this blog post.

And last night I watched up through tomorrow morning’s episode of Gilmore Girls, taking enough notes for a good piece for my Gilmore Girls fansite. And watching Gilmore Girls usually relaxes me, because the characters are engaging and entertaining. Yeah, it’s hilarious how Headmaster Hanlin “Il Duce” Charleston bludgeons Lorelai with guilt and expectation in order to get her to overlook how his minions ignored Rory’s educational needs in favor of their own backwards perception of the world. Great fun! But they always end up with a happy ending. At least they did before stupid Universal fired Amy Sherman-Palladino at season 7, the season to end the show, both literally and figuratively.

(Yes, I’m an opinionated grouch. But I’m getting to the book cover. Really, I am.)

The thing is, this week is likely to be busier for me than normal. Because my Dad has a wonderful opportunity to gain recognition for his new book, which we haven’t released yet. We weren’t planning on releasing it for another few months, because we’re still finishing the final proofreading. But he has an unexpected chance for PR at an event next month, and if we can bring it to press this week, he can present it to a large, influential group connected to his target market.

Now, with most publishers, he’d be out of luck. But because I operate a lean-and-mean, Agile publishing operation—and because I’m family—he’s not out of luck; I am.

So yesterday, we had an emergency planning session: determine the minimum work needed to bring a first edition of the book to press this week. Well what’s left?

1. Complete at least one proofreading pass.
2. Assign an ISBN, and prepare the copyright page for the first edition.
3. Write the back-cover copy and inside-front copy.
4. Design the cover. (And send an image of the front cover to the people handling the book display for the event.)
5. Double-, triple-, and quadruple-check the layout.
6. Skip printing a proof copy (in order to make it within the week).
7. Quintuple-check the layout.
8. Publish it, and order the first box of books!

That last one is actually a whole bunch of steps, but I have them fairly well systematized, and only the first part of that process needs to be completed in order to take advantage of the opportunity.

The others… Let’s see. I was planning to do #1, in order to help me with #3, which I am the most qualified to do (of the people on the production team). #2 is simple enough—all standard stuff—and hopefully will go off without a hitch.

#4… My brother was going to help with the cover, but then he had to go and get married and promptly ended up in the hospital. By the way, the latter had nothing to do with the former. No, it was an injury, probably sustained by lifting at work, carrying sick people. (He’s an EMT.) Then he came home and promptly had to go back for major surgery, in order to make sure he wouldn’t sustain similar injuries in the future. Then he came home again and promptly had to go back again due to complications from the surgery. Frankly, we don’t know how much more of this we can take.

In any case, yesterday, our emergency planning session turned into an emergency design session. We looked at a million fonts, hit iStockPhoto in earnest—the picture of Hebrew toy blocks was the best image we could find to reflect the concept and mood behind the book, and frankly, I think it looks trés kewl—threw together a concept cover, I playing the designer and Dad playing the client.

Then I posted the cover to Facebook, asking my friends and friends-of-friends and friends-of-friends-of-friends et cetera to glance at it and tell, What does the cover make you think of?

Because there’s a possible impression that is not consistent with the content of the book. I didn’t think, however, that it would be an issue for our target market—primarily Christian young adults immersing themselves in their faith. Still, the only way to tell is through testing, and we’ve had next to no opportunity to test this cover design, neither in ads nor else-how.

As it turns out, no one yet has mentioned the possible misinterpretation I was thinking of, so that’s good news.

One person mentioned “children,” because of the blocks. This could be of concern, if the thought of the feeling of children turns off people in our target market. But as our target market is still young, they probably haven’t had kids yet, and so the thought of the feeling of kids probably isn’t likely to turn them off.

In any case, look at the book cover above. Click on it to see a larger version. And then comment below: what does it make you think of?

-TimK

P.S. I still have many more refinements to add to this cover before it’s done. This is only a concept cover to test the main elements.

P.P.S. All the other items on the list are fairly well systematized as well, and should go off without a hitch. #3 and #4 are the heavies.

I don’t think I’ve ever written before about playing bass, which is kind of strange, because I’ve been playing bass ever since I just picked up a friend’s on a whim back in 1986-ish and started jamming. (I’ve been playing other instruments for much longer than that, since the 1970′s.) Today, I play most Sundays at the Christian Pentecostal Church of Newton, where we have the rockingest praise & worship band on the east coast. (Probably not, but allow me a little hyperbole.) And half of the Saturdays, I also play bass at Ruach Israel.

Music for me is a labor of love and passion, as I have only earned a penny or two at most from my music, and that I’m sure is because someone felt guilty for enjoying what I have to offer. I’ve also recorded songs for fun, like my semi-unplugged rendition of “Amazing Grace.” (I’m doing everything in that recording, by the way, even though my brother and I originally performed it together, him on guitar, me on bass.)

Several weeks ago, Mario called me in a non-obvious semi-panic, wondering if I could play bass for In the Deep, because most of their other musicians had to cancel at the last minute. When I describe In the Deep, I say it’s candlelight ambience, loud worship music. I agreed to play. That was a fun, fun gig. Almost made me want to start another band again… But that’s a different story.

Afterward, I received a number of complements on my rockin’ bass playing. At first, I attributed them to two facts: 1. Mario had actually introduced me publicly to the group as the stand-in bassist, and 2. Dan the drummer and I have been playing together for years on Sunday mornings. We groove together, almost without thinking, so much so that sometimes I wonder if we’ve gotten into a rut. So when I subbed in at In the Deep, opposite Dan, we naturally provided all the backing needed. Yeah, that could be it.

But after thinking about it more, I’m thinking there’s more to it than that.

Enter WSRS

WSRS is an adult contemporary radio station that my teenage daughter insists on listening to whenever we ride in the car. Around here, they syndicate the popular Delilah program. (That’s yet another story.) Delilah plays approximately the same kind of music WSRS plays the rest of the time, so if you’re familiar with her, then you have an idea of the genre of music I’m talking about.

I’m not sure when it happened. But I do remember I was listening to WSRS, because I was in the car with the family, and the radio was on. I suddenly realized that even though I was listening to smooth, lite adult contemporary, I was being dragged along by the groove. Almost every song had an interesting drum-bass foundation that almost exactly mirrored my style. And then I understood what had actually happened at In the Deep. The attendees were probably used to the way that most worship bassists play, and now they were hearing someone who cut his chops–not on contemporary praise & worship–but on actual music.

When I went back and reviewed the original recordings of popular worship songs by Hillsong, David Crowder, Matt Redman (whose music I love), and others, I discovered a common thread. The bass lines were all boring. There were a couple of exceptions, like “Beautiful One” by Tim Hughes. (Although our arrangement of that song still blows his out of the water.)

And this boringness is not a characteristic of contemporary Christian music in general. If you turn on your favorite contemporary Christian radio station or Music Choice channel, you’ll hear plenty of interesting stuff happening. In fact, musically, CCM mirrors much of what you hear on WSRS.

What’s the difference?

There are specific differences in almost every instrument, every part. And having played almost every part at one time or another during my decades-long music career, I hear them all. The general difference is that most contemporary worship music is played with the skill of a 12-year-old. That’s probably so that even amateur church musicians, who just last week learned how to play that chord, can still feel confident in leading those songs in front of their congregations.

I could offer specific advice to every instrumentalist in the band on how to address this deficiency. The general advice is just to treat your instrument as a profession, become better and better, even though you’re just doing it for love and passion. After all, the fact that you’re an amateur is no excuse for not treating your music seriously, for giving God anything less than your best.

Since I began from the perspective of a bassist, let me offer some unsolicited, specific advice to worship bassists. (All of these points you can hear in song after song on the radio, if you listen for them.)

1. Focus on feeling the groove, and practice play with it. As a bassist, you’re not just playing the right notes, but you’re playing them at the right time, in order to set down the groove of the song and establish the mood of the song. When you play is just as important as what you play, because the bass is both a percussive and a melodic instrument.

2. Listen to the drummer, and play with him. This goes hand in hand with #1 above. This will require you to learn a little about what the drummer plays and when, but the effort is worth it. You should pay particular attention to when he hits the kick (i.e., the bass drum) and the snare. These are points in the rhythm you should enhance with your playing. Note that each drummer has his own style, and if you’re doing it right, drumming from a different drummer should suddenly throw a monkey wrench into your bass-ing. If you can go seamlessly from drummer to drummer without a hitch, one of you is doing it wrong.

   (I know that some church bands don’t have drummers. That’s okay. As a bassist, you can still play both parts. Learn about what a drummer would play, if he were playing with you. Hear his drumming in your head, and play along with it.)

3. Master the mute to intensify the groove. That is, not playing can be just as powerful as playing. For example, try intentionally stopping your bass note short, on the beat where the drummer hits his snare. It’s a more dramatic effect than holding your bass note through the snare hit. Use this effect when it feels right, in order to emphasize the groove.

4. Master scales to add effortless variety to your bass lines. Chord sheets only list the lowest note in the chord as the “bass” note. But an effective bass line also uses other notes from the scale, and those are never listed on the chord sheet. Yeah, I know: you thought by playing bass you wouldn’t need to learn scales. Well, absolutely not true. On any melodic instrument, learning your scales is one of the most effective uses of your time. Listen to bass lines on the radio, and experiment with playing different notes, and you’ll suddenly discover that most of those complicated bass lines are within your reach.

5. Master bass chords. Yes, you heard me right. Bass chords. Usually played on the upper strings, high on the neck, these moody additions can really spice up a bass line. They can also add thickness to the other chord instruments, making up for the paucity of instruments in most worship bands.

6. Use slides, octaves, bends, hammer-ons, and pull-offs. A slide is when you slide your finger from one note to the next. An octave is when you play the same note one octave above another, either alternately or simultaneously, doubling up the note and giving your instrument a whole new level of tonal depth. (The next slow, melancholy song you play, try doubling the bass note on octaves and sliding up and down the neck to play the bass line.) A bend is when you bend the string you’re playing in order to make the note a little higher, especially effective in conjunction with blues scales. (Try playing an octave and bending the upper note a little to create a bass-chorus effect.) A hammer-on is when you play one note, then hit the fret on a higher note without plucking the string, especially useful for quick riffs. A pull-off is the converse, play a note and then quickly lift your finger from the fret, allowing another note to play. (See this video for a demonstration.) Frankly, the bass is the most versatile instrument in the band, more versatile even than the electric guitar. Do your part to add variety to the arrangement.

7. Play high notes sometimes. The bass is not just for low notes. Yeah, it’s easier to play high notes if you have one of those trés kewl 6-string basses. But even if you only have the much more common 4-string variety, you probably have over 3 octaves at your disposal. (My 4-string can play anything from a low E up to a high G, 3½ octaves above.) Try experimenting with guitar-like leads, to complement the electric guitar or to sub for it (if your band is missing one).

8. BONUS: Don’t play the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over again. Play something different once in while. Even if the song consists of the same 4 chords repeated ad infinitum (e.g., “Trading My Sorrows”), that doesn’t mean you have to play the same 4 notes over and over again like a robot. Vary the rhythm. Vary the intensity. Play different inversions (that is, different bass notes from the same chord). Play different fills.

But it’s not a performance!

Heard this objection before. If you’ve thought of an objection, I’ve probably heard it before.

Actually, playing worship is a performance, because you’re performing. It’s just a performance of a different sort to the one where you stand up on stage and entertain the masses. I’ve done both; I know the difference.

But just because worship is not “a performance” is no excuse not to treat your craft seriously, to invest in it all the skill you have to muster, to improve your skills and to use them, to give God everything you have and are. I’m tired of musicians using “not a performance” as an excuse for shoddy musicianship.

There’s a reason why professional musicians (except in the worship genre) play the way they do, and it’s not to get attention. Any professional musician will tell you that if you’re doing it right, your playing should not stand out, but should effortlessly merge into the background. Because playing that grabs attention is not rockin’, but rather is awkward and distracting.

When you listen to the radio, the musicians who set down those tracks chose to play those particular parts, because they enhanced the song and make listeners want to get into the song, want to get up and groove, want to sing along, all the things that the worship artist also wants.

-TimK

Imagine this happening to you…

One Sunday morning service, a 2,000 member congregation was surprised to see two men enter, both covered from head to toe in black and carrying submachine guns.

One of the men proclaimed, “Anyone willing to take a bullet for Christ, remain where you are!”

Immediately, the choir fled.

The deacons fled.

And most of the congregation fled.

Out of the 2,000, there only remained 20.

The man who had spoken took off his hood. He then looked at the preacher and said, “Okay, Pastor. I got rid of all the hypocrites. Now you may begin your service. Have a nice day!” And the two men turned and walked out.

So, would I have run?

Hell, yeah!

Look, just because some guy in riot gear carrying a gun tells you to stay put so he can shoot you for your faith, that doesn’t mean you have to listen to him! If you have the chance to escape, then you escape, with you friends and family if possible, and you never look back.

Do you think all the Jews who escaped from the Nazis were traitors to their faith? What about all the Christians who helped them escape, at great personal risk? (The penalty for harboring a Jew was summary execution.)

There is no triumph in dying for Christ, if you could choose to live for Him instead.

-TimK