Month / November 2010

by Michael

Christians and Muslims Talking About God and Serving The City

It’s not often that I’ll mention what’s happening or happened at my church, but this post is dedicated to an interesting event we held three weeks ago.  We hosted Eboo Patel, author of Acts of Faith and founder of the Interfaith Youth Core.  He came, along with a few of his staff, one of whom is a member of our church, and we were very glad to have them.

The event launched what our staff expects to be a long-term multi-faith dialogue.  We expect the conversation that Pastor Hong and Dr. Patel started then will eventuate into more discussion and action on what it means for Christians and Muslims to be in relationship, how we together can seek the good of the city, and how we can pursue justice, even while honoring and holding well our own very real differences of (theological) opinion.  We also are planning slowly how to respond to the many things which came up after that: the questions, the concerns, the issues for people in our congregation.  Last, we are planning how to take the next step to make the multi-faith dialogue multi-faith.  We’ve been thinking about how we can invite and envelope a leader from one of the Jewish traditions in order to have the same kinds of conversations, words leading to actions.

That said, I purchased two copies of Dr. Patel’s book, one to read and one to give away.  The book’s in my third reading pile and I’ll get to it by February if I stay the reading course.  So, I can’t review it.  My friend and coworker, David Swanson, has read and reviewed it though. 

Nonetheless, if you’d like to get a free copy, enter my little competition by Wednesday, midnight CST, and I’ll randomly choose a winner.  To enter, leave a comment about why you think telling stories about faith is important.

by Michael

This Violence Is Anti-Christian

I’m sensitive to restraining my thoughts on all things global, especially since I’m blogging in my own southside social location, but I thought I’d pass this on and invite you to comment, reflect, or pray, in no particular order.  I read something in Religious Dispatches yesterday and then saw a related story in the Christian Century this morning.  Both address a piece printed in a Ugandan newspaper.  You can access the RD article here, but since the Century’s summary was short, I’m including it:

YELLOW JOURNALISM: A new Ugandan newspaper named the Rolling Stone (not to be confused with the American magazine with the same name) featured a list of the 100 “top” homosexuals in the country, along with their pictures and addresses.  The banner on the paper said, “Hang them.”  This edition of the newspaper appeared near the one-year anniversary of the introduction of legislation in the Ugandan parliament that would impose the dealth penalty for some homosexuals and life imprisonment for others.  The proposed legislation was shelved, yet more than 20 homosexuals have been attacked in Uganda since its introduction and another 17 were arrested and are in prison.  The legislation was supported by some conservative Christian leaders in the U.S. (AP).

To be clear, I don’t think it’s helpful to jump altogether on the last words “supported by some conservative Christian leaders in the U.S.,” but those words ring in my ears.  I am a citizen of the US.  I am a Christian.  I am a leader.  You  may be all or none of those labels.  Now, Christians believe a lot of things when it comes to the subject of human sexuality broadly and homosexuality specifically.  I suppose some folks believe that their beliefs and best interpretations of sacred texts leave room for violence against those who don’t share or embody their same beliefs.  That’s not new in world history.  Unfortunately.  But I tend to think that the violence mentioned in these pieces is what is opposite our best faith in Jesus Christ.  Not homosexuality.  Not any expression of sexuality.  No.  Violence like this.

Regardless of your religious views  when it comes to homosexuality (or perhaps, fully regarding those views), it’s the “longest strain” of those opinions to endorse violence of spirit or body, no matter where it’s done in the world, because of a person’s sexual orientation.  This grieves me, even though I’m nowhere near Uganda.

by Michael

Cheap Weddings, Expensive Relationships

I was driving to class the other morning when something about Miss. Katherine and Prince William’s engagement and upcoming wedding came on the station.  The journalist interviewed business owners in and around London, and the retailers and shopkeepers spoke of how they hoped the royal wedding would translate into new customers, new sales, and larger profits.  There was no real mention of how expensive the wedding would be.  The story focused on the wedding’s impact on the local and near-local economies in Scotland and London and other places where the pair has spent time.

Most people don’t contribute to the national economy when they take vows.  But it occurred to me when listening to the story, as it has before, that people spend a lot of money on weddings. 

There are halls and hotels to book, flowers to smell and buy, cakes to taste and eat, clothes and shoes and accessories and transportation.  Music and drinks and souvenirs and photographers–the list keeps listing longer.  Couples make hard choices about who can or can’t come because every head is a cost.  But weddings don’t have to be expensive.  They can be cheap.  In fact, given the choice between an expensive wedding and a poor marriage, the best option for most awake people is the marriage. 

All relationships require work.  Work sometimes feels like an overpriced item.  But working on a relationship’s health leads to personal and interpersonal strength which can’t be calculated.  I wonder if it’s helpful to see preparation for a relationship, or a marriage for that matter, as planning an event everyday that pays huge profits.

“Paying” for a good marriage and “spending” time on the relationship may not be attractive or memorable to the people at an event, but it may be worthwhile in the long run.  It may expose the health of what’s really between two people months and years after people have forgotten whether a couple put pretty pens or bright white candles on every plate at a reception.

I’m getting into gear over at my church office as several couples have gotten engaged.  I expect to see several couples as they plan for vows, even though the last two years were slow relative to weddings.  I don’t see all of them.  I send some to other pastors and some to professional counselors, because of everything from scheduling conflicts to needs beyond my ability.  And I hope that these folks can focus on their relationships and planning for a life, rather than planning for a day.  I will certainly tell that to the folks I see.

Any thoughts?

by Michael

In The Margins, pt 2

When I make comments on student’s papers–they are submitted as printed pieces of paper–I underline sentences or phrases.  I scribble notes on the right side and react with one or two words on the left side.  I usually write a quick summary at the end of the assignment, basically thanking the student for the work and pulling my feedback together. 

I got that from Scottie May at Wheaton because she always “thanked” us for the work we did.  I thought that was so intriguing that I started doing that when I taught ministry classes in the church, eventually doing the same in the VFCL program at Garrett-Evangelical, while growing in appreciation for what work I was reading.

One comment that has come up in the margins of my own work-in-progress is about the story’s pacing.  I’m learning that anything and everything that slows the pacing disrupts the reader’s experience.  And the reader’s experience is what the story is all about.  Here are a couple things I’m learning in those margins about pacing as I revise the WIP.

  1. Too much description slows the pace.  All those overwritten phrases and those poetic lines that may sound good to me, stops the movement.  Saying too many things about other things happening outside of the major plot is bad for a novel’s pace.
  2. Too many words changes the pace.  My editor, and my early readers too, said that “Less is More.”  I believe the editor wrote, “Less really is more, Michael.”  Use less words because too many words, rather than better pinning down the story, complicates it unnecessarily.  A story with the wrong words creates clutter.
  3. Too many characters crowds the story.  I’m told that for every character the reader is asking something like, how essential is this person?  Or saying, “Maybe I should hold on to this person because I don’t know what he’ll do or where she’ll take the novel.”  When there are too many people mentioned, readers can’t keep track.
  4. Keeping time is essential to maintain pace.  My story takes place over the course of five months.  But before my editor got to it, I included very little to mark the movements in time, to help the reader move from one week to another.  You could easily be confused if you weren’t in my head!  Part of revising for me has been about ordering and reordering scenes while including time stamps, explicitly or implicitly, so that following the story is actually possible. 
  5. Tightening the story means cutting the story.  I hate saying goodbye.  I even leave parties and people’s homes without telling them I’m leaving because I don’t like saying goodbye.  The same goes for me and my words.  When I write, I think my words are the best things I’ll ever type.  That makes it very hard to cut them.  And I mean to really cut them, to delete them.  Not to save them for something else or for the next WIP.  Beccause there is no next.  There is only the story I’m telling right then.  When those words go away, it hurts.  But I have to delete them to tighten and sharpen and focus the story.  It’s hard to believe that one of the best things for writing a novel is deleting words.

If you’re interested in In The Margins, pt 1, click here.

by Michael

Interview with Donna Freitas & Book Giveaway

Several months ago I read This Gorgeous Game and I contacted Donna Freitas to see if she would conduct a blog interview.  She graciously accepted.  As I told her, this novel was a treat to read.  It was an engaging, well-written story that covers a challenging topic.  It’s accessible for young readers, meaning youth and young adult readers, but the issues inside the covers are ones that anyone can relate to.  Here’s the cover flap copy:

Seventeen-year-old Olivia Peters has long dreamed of becoming a writer.  So she’s absolutely over the moon when her literary idol, the celebrated novelist and much-adored local priest Mark D. Brendan, selects her from hundreds of other applicants as the winner of the Emerging Writers High School Fiction Prize.  Now she gets to spend her summer evenings in a college fiction seminar at the nearby university, where dreamy college boys abound and Father Mark acts as her personal mentor.

But when Father Mark’s enthusiasm for Olivia’s writing develops into something more, Olivia quickly finds her emotions shifting from wonder to confusion and despair.  And as her wide-eyed innocence deteriorates, Olivia can’t help but ask–exactly what game is Father Mark placing, and how on earth can she get out of it?

This remarkable second novel by the author of The Possibilities of Sainthood, about overcoming the isolation that stems from victimization, is powerful, luminous, and impossible to put down.

If you’re interested in learning more about Ms. Freitas or her work, visit her website.  Here’s my interview with Professor Freitas.

You say in your acknowledgments that writing this story was a long, tedious journey.  What can you share about that journey?  Well, this was a dark story, its subject matter tough, and there are many friends and loved ones along the way who have been there for me and supported me with respect to my own experiences related to where the story came from. But, perhaps somewhat ironically, writing This Gorgeous Game was such a liberating experience. To tell Olivia’s story, and to bring her through this darkness to the other side, knowing that she would be okay and that there were so many people in her life that would be there before, during, and afterward, was pretty amazing in and of itself. My editor, Frances Foster, and everyone at FSG and Macmillan that supported This Gorgeous Game from start to finish and still now were pretty amazing, too. It’s funny (and wonderful, too) how something so dark can end up directing you toward joy eventually.

Olivia’s voice is clear and the story captures her experiences, her hopes, and some of her frustrations.  Can you talk about what helped you hear her voice and see her experience?  One of the most important aspects of This Gorgeous Game for me is Olivia’s voice. It came to me clear as a bell one day on my way home and I decided it was my job to follow it until she had nothing left to say. I think her voice is that of a girl who is stressed and scared and insecure about what she is experiencing and I hope readers can truly be in her head while they read. I suppose that is a terrible thing to wish on readers in some respects, but I want Olivia to come to life for people through her voice!

Among Olivia’s early lines is a passage about gratitude.  She wills herself gratitude and the story centers–maybe not quite centers–on her tension between thankfulness and fear, gratitude and confusion.  How did you walk that line and strengthen those tensions throughout the work?  Well, thank you for the compliment about the tension. I’m not sure I consciously tried to walk any lines, to be honest. My biggest job was to stay true to Olivia’s voice. The main thing I was aware of, though, was the fact that the reader was going to know that something was wrong and what was wrong, too, far before Olivia would ever do or say anything about what was happening to her. That meant that my job was to show the confusion that made Olivia stay silent for so long, even as she begins to fear what is really happening to her. I needed to convey the enormity of what it meant to accuse a priest of abuse, especially when he never did anything “technically” wrong—he just showed her an enormous amount of attention. This was a complicated thing to convey.

I read somewhere that you were interested or concerned about readers’ reception of your use of Thomas Merton.  What led you to use his writings and what would you like readers to know about him?  I am actually not a Merton fan, but I knew that he fell in love with a much, much younger woman shortly before he died and that they had an affair. In my mind, Father Mark (the priest in This Gorgeous Game), fancies himself as a Merton type—he is a famous writer, a priest, and in many other ways is a very private person—and he begins to see Olivia as his “M.”. I actually didn’t add the Merton parallel until after I’d finished the first draft, though.

Power is abused.  People are mistreated by individuals and by systems made up of people.  This story illuminates how that happens in one person’s life.  How do you see Olivia now that her story is written, being read, and being discussed?  How would you describe her?  Power certainly is abused all the time, and it is particularly awful (in my opinion) when someone abuses the power they have in relation to a person or a community’s faith in general, and faith in them particularly. I would describe Olivia as a totally innocent victim, a teen girl who was deeply involved in her family’s Church and faith tradition, as well as a gifted young person with lots of hopes and dreams. Father Mark preys on both these aspects of Olivia’s character, and when we are kids, we are so vulnerable in these areas of our life. I hope that people will talk about the events of the story as they happen; why it takes so long for Olivia to tell on Father Mark; what they wish would happen to Father Mark after the story is over; and also, how we can educate teens to not only be aware of sexual abuse, but the kind of abuse that is rather more elusive, that comes from the kind of manipulative, relentless attention Father Mark shows Olivia.

How do you balance your work as a teacher and your work writing?  Related to that, what kinds of connections do you see in the roles of writer and teacher?  Does one role equip you for the other?  I am not great at balancing! I wish I was better, but don’t we all need to be better? I would say that my nonfiction work (most recently, Sex and the Soul from Oxford University Press) is more directly in line with my teaching and concerns in the classroom. Almost all of my nonfiction research and writing comes from conversations I’ve had with my students or topics they seem interested in or wish they had more discussions about. My fiction in general is more personal, I think, even though I think (hope!) that it is useful in the classroom, too.

Has This Gorgeous Game come up in your classes or conversations with students?  If so, what has that meant to you?  Not yet—this is my first semester since the book came out, though. I don’t think my students even know I write novels to be honest!

I don’t know you well.  In fact, I’m only a new fan because of This Gorgeous Game.  But I’ll make an assumption to ask you this last question.  My assumption is that everyone has faith in something(s), even if faith is understood differently by different people.  Can you talk about what this story did for your faith?  You handled a bold story in a skillful way that makes me want to know how this good work worked on you if that makes sense.  Thanks for this question. Writing This Gorgeous Game was the closest I’ve ever come to an experience of grace, I think. I’ve never felt more empowered before, than when I was working on this book. Through this novel, I was able to take experiences in my own past that I’d buried somewhere deep and dark, and transform them into a story that is difficult, I know, but one about which I am proud. It has helped me to have faith in the possibility of healing even from life’s most painful moments.

What’s next for you and how can my readers keep in touch?  My third novel is coming out in September of 2011. It’s called The Survival Kit, and it’s about a girl named Rose whose mother has just died. On the day of the funeral, when her brother and father are arguing over Mom’s wishes, Rose escapes into her mother’s closet, looking at all the things her mother left behind. Hanging with Rose’s favorite dress of her mother, she finds something special that her Mom made for Rose: a survival kit. Inside the bag are items and tasks to help Rose get through this first year, and everything Rose finds inside is what ends up shaping the next twelve months. The story is uplifting and hopeful, I think! And the biggest storyline other than the items inside the kit is a romance, which I really enjoyed writing. The survival kit is based on something my mother used to make when she was alive.

People can contact me through my website, where they will find all my info!

To enter into the competition to win a free copy of This Gorgeous Game:

Post a comment offering one way we can educate teens about the dangers of sexual abuse or one way we can protect teens from such dangers.  Respond by midnight, Thursday, the 18th.

by Michael

Finding New Ways to Slam a Phone

The boy amazes me because everyday he finds a new way to slam the phone.  He doesn’t slam his play phone.  He pushes it until it scrapes or scoots across the floor but he won’t slam it.  No, he slams the real phone.  Everyday for minutes and minutes and not quite hours he slams the phone.

He started right before we had to buy a new one.  We had two handsets.  One broke months ago.  When we replaced the whole phone system, the second, now unused, real cordless phone became his latest delight.  It joined the ranks of teethers and remotes and sits in his basket of favorite things, waiting for him to tip it over so that everything from books to toys spills on the floor to offer a personal joy-filled greeting to the kid who came back to play.

He takes the phone, pushing it in front of him as he crawls.  In between pushes, he’ll glance up or to the side.  He’ll look for me or his mother.  He’s getting clingy, as Dawn says, so he wants to know where we are.  He’ll moan and whine and pretend to cry until he sees us.  But there he is with the phone.  He’ll stop crawling, sit up and lift the phone to his mouth.

I remember when it mattered what he put in his mouth.  I remember pulling boots from his hands.  I remember running in front of him to remove purses from his path.  I remember taking the soft rubber covers off the bathroom doors so he couldn’t pull them up and try to taste them.  They still wait on the bathroom counter, hoping to find their homes again, and Dawn reminds me to be careful because the tub and walls can get scratched easily.

It still matters that the boy wants to eat shoes.  That’s my limit.  I mean, they are shoes.  But it matters less since he puts everything in his mouth.  Everything.  I’m told it’s his way of learning the world.  Part of what makes this stage so funny is that it makes me remember some of the stuff my family said I ate.  Which you couldn’t pay me to post on a blog.

Aside from his diet of all things reachable, he lifts his phone, beating it on the floor in general and on the concrete slab at the balcony window sill.  He pounds it against the fireplace until the mounting echoes a hollow tone, contrasting the slap and scape of the phone against the wood floor.  He’ll pull it and clap that thing in his hands like a tambourine.  He’s making music already.

by Michael

Behind My Personal Statement

The other day I read a student’s personal statement prepared as part of her college application.  The student hadn’t sent it to me, though.  One of the people behind her essay did, namely one of her teachers. 

It’s been a while since I prepared a similar essay.  But I remember writing one for seminary, for grad school, and for college.  I wrote two for college because I transferred from Hampton University to attend the University of Illinois.  One day I’ll tell you about my entry into U of I.  Or maybe not.

Still, those statements and their accompanying applications pulled a lot from me.  They made me think about the people who mentored me, those folks who helped me learn to read and write, who taught me how to reflect upon my experiences.  I can’t think about writing an essay for anybody without thinking about Andrew H. Moore, Jr. who wrote an early recommendation for me when I was applying for a college scholarship.  He used the word belie and I had never used that word before.  The word makes me smile and probably laugh when I think about him speaking of my character as a seventeen-year old. 

The second person I almost always think about when I write an essay about myself, a bio, or something similar is Ms. Henning.  I don’t know her full name.  She’s a teacher, Ms. Henning.  She was the assistant principal at Simeon and she read and revised an essay I submitted for the U.S. Senate Youth Program.  It was the first time I was ever edited.  I remember thinking, “So this is how good writing reads,” when I read what she did with my scattered ramblings.  I still think what she worked into my words got me into that program along with its scholarship.  She’s part of the reason that small nudge toward politics sits in my stomach.

For a long time what she wrote and what Andrew Moore wrote and what they did with what I wrote, were my standards for good writing and good editing.  They are two irreplaceable people behind my personal statement, in whatever form and at whatever time.

by Michael

You Tell Me: What Belongs on That List of Things Spouses Do?

I am a proponent of marriage.  That’s what I told a friend of mine the other day.  I hear myself saying that all the time to couples who come to my office.  Marriage is one of the ways that God will change you, I tell them.  There are only a few tools or roles or identities that we have that we face everyday.  When you’re married, whatever you do, you do it as a married person.  Good or bad, you are married.

That means that the list of things to do as a married man or woman is long.  Much of it is captured under the old language inside the vow for better or worse.  What do you say sits inside that vow–from your experience or from somebody else’s?  What’s on that list of things spouses do?

by Michael

Ten Things Different As Compared To This Time Last Year

I don’t know how to interpret the non-response to the book giveaway.  Maybe you’ll tell me.  So, even though I don’t have a winner to announce, I do hope you enjoyed the interview and I do have this post on a view things I’ve noticed from this time last year.

  1. I can tell you the number of times Dawn has sat across the table from me, just us, talking about something other than diapers, feeding schedules, formula, and other random things related mostly to the influence of sleep deprivation.
  2. I am still not a morning person.
  3. A schedule consisting mostly of driving a tender package around and doctor-visiting and note-taking, all while being afraid since nobody else seemed to know the rules of the road.  Actually I was doing this with my pregnant wife a year ago.
  4. The three pictures of me as a newborn, as a one-year old, and as a 7th grader on my refrigerator, placed there by my mother to show the similar features between me and the boy.
  5. My gym membership goes unused much more regularly.
  6. I only carve out one day per week to have evening meetings and my Sundays have become much longer because of it.
  7. I smile at other people’s kids because they make me think of my own.
  8. When I consider doing something I shouldn’t, I think about the boy’s face over my shoulder in the car, his eyes following mine as he peers through the gap in the seat shade, and it makes me remember responsibility again–to both God and the people who matter.
  9. I clean up.  All the time.  Even when other people are doing it too.  It never stops.
  10. People have literally forgotten my name, identity, and use, preferring 1) to label me “Bryce’s father,” 2) to ask me where he is first and where his mother is second, and 3) to compare me and my features to his as if I weren’t here first.
by Michael

Interview with Ravi Howard & Book Giveaway

As I’ve said in previous blog interviews, I hope you will look seriously at these conversations as ways and reasons to consider adding these works to your to-be-read pile!  I also hope they provide a slight window into the world of publishing from the author’s point of view.  I found Like Trees, Walking three years after it was published (in 2007), so there is time for you to get it still.  I appreciated this read and am grateful for Mr. Howard’s willingness to be on the blog.  First the backcover copy for the novel and then the interview.

Melanin helps to obscure some bruises, making them difficult to distinguish from the dark skin they’ve stained.  Under the strong light, all of the bruises that covered him head to toe were plain to see.  The defensive wounds that covered Michael’s palms appeared bold against the pale skin.  Seeing Michael’s hands and face, I thought of my schoolyard brawls.  After the fights I’d won, I remembered how the rush of victory dulled the pain of taken blows.  Then I thought of the fights I had lost, when I felt the pain of knuckles against my face and the hot rush of blood coming to the surface.  Those fights seemed important at the time, but we were all just kids.  There was nothing at stake besides pride or shame.

My Photo

Now, the interview.

Tell us about your writing process, your research, giving us a glimpse into what came before this novel’s publication a few years ago.  Like Trees, Walking is set in Mobile, Alabama.  Though I live here now, I was on the East Coast during the writing process.  I made multiple trips here to the local library, as well as other trips just to get a feel for local culture.  I wanted to be accurate with neighborhoods and street names, so I tried to learn as much as possible about local flavor to make the story feel more authentic. 

I worked in television production for much of that time, so most of the writing was done on weekends, evenings, and vacation time.  The challenge for any writer is finding a balance between work, personal lives, and writing.

You tell a story that is very much a part of the history of the United States , bringing before readers the ugly brutality of lynching.  How were you personally affected by the strong and hard pieces of the research and plot for the work?  I was most affected by the photographs and court testimony of the lynching.  It was hard to believe that crimes like the Donald murder happened as late as 1981.  I think any writer who lives with material for so long ends up with a personal connection to the subject matter.  I think the fact that I live in Mobile now makes certain elements of the crime scene and events more vivid because I travel the streets regularly.  I’ve also met journalists and citizens who were somehow involved with the case, directly or indirectly, so that makes the crime feel current.  People remember where they were when it happened.

Two central characters, Roy and Paul, are brothers.  Their relationship is playful and fun and enduring despite the big losses and fears in your novel.  They had different reactions to Michael Donald’s murder.  How did you develop their relationship as you wrote?  People deal with grief and trauma differently, and the brothers illustrated a small part of the emotional range.   While there is often a collective mood of a particular city, era, or event, fiction provides the opportunity to peel away characters and show the impact of moments and conflicts on individuals.  Sometimes responses can be reduced to norms or what is considered abnormal.  Through characters, readers and writers can explore a range of responses to everyday events and traumatic ones.

What audience did you write this for or who do you hope finds and reads Like Trees, Walking?  I really don’t write with an eye on the audience.  It’s hard to know who will like a work and who will not.   Performers can look out at the audience and know who’s there and who’s not, but our folks are in bookstores, libraries, or online.  I think that invisibility can be a good thing.  I’m open to anyone who wants to try the book, even the ones who end up not liking it.  I think the folks who are constantly reading are central to the mix, but we always need those folks who might not read that often.  It’s always helpful to the cause when people discuss their reading with others.  That’s the easiest way to spread the word and help a small audience develop into a big one.  

You live in Mobile , Alabama .  Tell us about the local reception of your book over the last few years.  I’ve been pleased with the reception of the book.   Prior to the publication of the book, the street where Michael Donald’s body was found was renamed for him.  A historical marker was added as well.  The city has been receptive to historical remembrances, even for something this tragic.  Mobile has had a different relationship to the Civil Rights Movement than other cities.  The violence associated with Birmingham, Montgomery, Selma, and Anniston didn’t happen on the same scale in Mobile.  But people have been willing to discuss the event and its aftermath in various public forums.

I was struck that the main characters were young—thankful and struck.  I imagined how I would have interacted with this as a reader if I were the age of the characters, how much fun or sorrow-filled conversations with classmates might have been.  What would you like young people to discuss, to talk about, after reading this story?  I want young people to know that they can tell their own stories as well as anyone else.  Sometimes young people can look to older generations to explain their times to them.  It’s good for students to know that Dr. King was 26 during the Montgomery Bus Boycott.  Claudette Colvin, one of the first women who protested before Rosa Parks, was a high school student.  Sit-ins were conducted by college students, and there were school-age children participating in marches.  Young people have always had a point of view, and they should feel empowered to write and read stories that reflect their perspectives.

How do you see the role for this history, and history like it, in our country today?  The experience of Michael Donald is relatively recent but probably forgotten.  Do you see this story pushing us to remember in particular ways?  I think the divisive racist rhetoric we’ve heard during this election cycle shows that people still exploit racial tensions.  History shows us that exploitation can lead to violence.  I think that we should remember recent history with the understanding that those kinds of incidents can still happen if people are allowed to belittle people of color and minimize our contributions to American culture.  

What are you working on these days, and how can my blog readers connect with you?  I’m working on a piece set in Montgomery in the 1950s.  It shows elements of civil rights history and music history, especially the life and influence of Nat Cole, who was born in Montgomery in 1919.

Readers can connect with me at www.ravihoward.com .  I’d be happy to hear from them.  Thanks for including me in your blog.

Please do visit Ravi’s website and pick up a copy of his novel.

If you would like to enter into my competition to get a free copy of Like Trees, Walking, post in the comments either a) an event, any event, in history that you’d like an author to write about in a novel or b) the name of a novel focusing on a particular event in history.  I’ll choose a winner on Saturday, November 6 so post a comment by Friday, November 5 at midnight, CST.

by Michael

Am I Wrong For Being Upset With Coworkers Who Don’t Vote?

I came into the office and one of my coworkers asked if I voted.  I had.  So I repeated her question to her.  She said no, she hadn’t voted.  I started into a rant, a small one.  Then a second person came in while I was questioning the merits of the first coworker’s failure to vote.  The second person didn’t vote either.  I couldn’t take it.

I told them about a friend who wouldn’t let people she supervised come to work til they voted.  I started to say things about absentee ballots and early voting and the effectiveness of sitting out as opposed to actually doing the thing.  It’s sad to me that it’s too late for one of these ladies to vote.  She’s not driving to her home state to do it.  The other flat out said what she wasn’t going to do.  Both had their reasons, all of which I disagree with.

I told them I was going to my office to write a blog post.  I told them that I didn’t want to answer any of their questions.  Am I wrong to be upset?  Am I judging them when they’re able to say to me that if we had this conversation two months ago, maybe they would have voted? 

To vote is to exercise faith.  If Christians and people of other faiths do not vote, we miss one opportunity to live into what we believe.  I get that not all people of all faiths would agree that voting is a matter of faith, but go with me for a moment.  Faith is realized when we live it out.  Faith isn’t altogether interior but it pushes us out and makes us aware of the world around us.  A spiritual life that is Christian (and I’m talking specifically from my place in life) is concerned with the interal life and the external life.  And that external life is what we we see in our cities and counties, how budgets are passed or stalled, how legislators conduct themselves or fail to.  The spiritual life must be just as concerned in the political process because that’s a part of the world we live in and that’s one place people of faith can impact. 

When you vote, you say in the public sphere that you have beliefs about policy and how a city pursues peace and justice and well being.  When you vote, you say that you are choosing to support and elect a particular person for a specific role.  What you are doing is exercising your trust in that candidate, that jurist, or that politician, expressing your confidence in that person’s ability to execute the office or role to which they might be elected. 

It matters and it doesn’t matter whether they actually proceed in the way they said.  It matters and it doesn’t.  That’s why we vote: to hold people accountable, to change course, to remove leaders, to keep leaders.  We vote because we are discouraged or underwhelmed by the last two years or four years or eight years.  We don’t sit out.  We get up and go out to vote.

As a pastor, I think one of the best things I can do during election season is encourage people to vote.  Yes, to be informed about their voting and their values behind those votes, but to vote regardless.  If you believe that certain policies and certain legislative agendas can advance or get closer to what you believe the city, county, state, or country should be, wouldn’t restraining from a vote be contrary to your faith?  If you believe that your faith in meaningful for life now, wouldn’t it be fruitful for you to embody that faith in acts like praying for politicians, asking critical questions of judges, registering to vote, and following through during each election cycle by voting?  If you determine that a person’s values and commitments are similar to yours, particularly as a person of faith, or that a candidate’s spoken words accord with your own, wouldn’t it be a small failure of faith to not vote?  I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am.

I haven’t even started on the whole thing about the actual historical and contemporary significance of voting.  I’ll save that for the early conversations I’ll start with my coworkers in advance of Chicago’s February elections.  So expect a few posts in late December and early January to anticipate the deadlines for voter registration and early voting.

So, am I wrong for having an attitude?  Perhaps I’ll get to staff meeting and find out that more people didn’t vote.  If I do, I won’t write another post, I promise.

by Michael

In The Margins, pt. 1 of who knows how many

I will seek representation early next year for a novel I’m revising.  I tell people I can’t say much about the story because the story could seek revenge and change on me.  I tell them that talking about a story without them having read the story is like telling somebody about a movie.  You’re left to explain with ambiguous language that just isn’t helpful.

Nonetheless, a few months ago, I enlisted a professional editor to help me do this well.  When I got my critique letter from the editor, I paged through the letter and then the manuscript itself, following all the tracked changes, comments, and proposed corrections.  One thing stood out immediately.  Well, two things stood out.  I’ll tell you about the first one and leave the second for another time.  In a word, overwriting. 

She had listed that as a kind of threat to the manuscript.  Of course, that’s my way of saying what she said.  She pointed to several sections where I wrote too much description, for instance, and not enough immediate action or feelings or body language.  Or where I included chatty dialogue on two occasions.  She highlighted times when the narrator went on too long about this or that.  Overwriting.  It’s writing that doesn’t move the plot, writing that affects the pacing.  Incidentally, pacing is the second thing that stood out, but I will bring that up later.

I had already made it a goal to write less.  And I told my editor that I, indeed, had cut a fair amount of the overwritten morass.  I’ve even made it a personal goal to say less.  I think words are best when chosen and offered carefully, sparingly.  Words are expensive and they such be cherished and not thrown to the wind or cast in any and every direction.  Less is more.  Which is why the language of my stuff being overwritten is powerful. 

I want to do the opposite of that.  I almost want to underwrite.  I almost wish I could say right under enough, using provocative words and compelling language so that the eventual reader of that novel can ask for more.  So, as I’ve revised once post-critique, I’m looking forward to adding a few new scenes before resending it to the editor for that line edit.  I hope the feedback in the margins will come back that it’s right on, not overwritten or underwritten.