Are we serious, part 2

I’ve got the lazies. It’s so hot and humid here, I just don’t want to take my evening walk and sweat and be nasty.  

But I did, and listened to a podcast about Joshua Harris, the I Kissed Dating Goodbye guy. This guy wants us to feel sorry for him, but I’m not buying it. He makes a fortune with an ill-conceived book at 18 and some publisher also benefits greatly. Without any formal education, he becomes a minister in a church organization for several years, one that comes under increasing scrutiny for accountability and how it handled abuse. Then he decides to get an education, then starts to "deconstruct" his faith, then leaves his marriage, and then leaves “identification as a Christian.”

 

Remind me, why are we listening to him?

 

It’s of course a cautionary tale about “Christian celebrity.” As much as I want people to read my writing (discussed below), Christian celebrity is toxic, a sin,  a travesty, a tragedy, all the melodramatic words. It comes down to the publishers and media organizations who use these people and the reading public for money. By giving them a platform they foist them upon us. They are truly the gatekeepers, they don’t let these folks in; they let them out.

So, should I be so worried about getting the approval of publishers? They let us access the audience because they stamp their approval on us. And how we writers want that! So badly. That’s why we keep working on our prose, making the sacrifices of our time, spending time alone early in the morning or after our normal jobs.

How many bad books are published every year, anyway, and how many by Christian houses? How many “I had a problem and here’s how I got through it” or “how you can deal with normal life?” Now, I’m being a wise guy.

If I am serious about my art, I would be writing to make it glorify God, not make money and not earn accolades. Yet, someone has to read it for God to use it. So, there’s the conundrum.

I’m in the middle of five writing projects, and that shows my lack of discipline and direction and focus and seriousness. And my overuse of “and.” I start these books and get stuck, or get to where I need to find a publisher or agent. I have one novel, 78,000 words, that fits that category. No responses yet, or none promising. 

I kissed the slavish pursuit of publishing good-bye.  I mean playing at writing. Life is about attitude with which you approach as much as what you approach; the why and how as much as the what.