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.

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.

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.

Writing Someone Else’s Story

As I said in the last post, my father-in-law died the other week and among the many responsibilities inside the family after his death was the task of preparing his obituary for the memorial service.  My wife worked on it while we were at grandma’s house or while we were on the way back from Albion, and then she gave it to me to type up. 

As I typed, read, and revised it in order to send it to Dawn and her sister for review, I thought about what it takes to write someone else’s story.  I thought about the details that we knew and the ones we didn’t.  I wondered how much filled the spaces between each line of Mr. McKinney’s life, spaces we couldn’t recall, spaces we’d never appreciate.

There’s always more to a person’s life than we know, isn’t it?  The unspoken words that bring meaning to our narratives.  The events that stay with us even when no framed picture captures them.  The dates we don’t forget.  The people we love but hardly see.

Writing someone else’s story helps me imagine.  What was he thinking?  How did it feel to watch that happen, to experience that beginning or that ending or that conflict or that pain?  It’s an exercise in imagining and an exercise in pulling what’s known with what’s not.  And even then, with imagination and facts and dates, that story will never really be written well, written fully.

This Is A Stretch

I’m writing two letters to two political leaders.  It seems like everyone in my city is still talking about the mayoral race.  This race will be longer than any other, I’m sure, particularly since only a few of the presumed candidates have actually announced.  Everyone else is considering a run or simply gathering signatures or listening.  Well, I’m not writing to our current mayor, though his decision to leave office is turning over matters for me.  But I’m writing a letter to thank these persons for their leadership. 

These are gestures in gratitude.  I’m not going to insert my criticisms or my questions.  All I’m doing is writing a short note that names some of my gratitude.  I’m working and thinking to point out things I’ve observed.  I expect to admit my overall cluelessness since both of these folks do things I’ll never see or understand. 

I’m writing the notes to say thank you, to push myself to be a bit more complimentary and a tad less critical.  I never have to worry about being critical.  I’m that (un)naturally.  But I do have to work at thankfulness.  So, since I like to write, since I like words, I’m using the letters to stretch myself to do something that isn’t as easy.

If I can make a suggestion to you: consider doing something that’s a stretch for you.  For example, if you’re like me and you struggle to notice things and express gratitude, write a letter doing something like I’ve done.  It never hurts to say thank you.  Think about a person who does things you don’t see.  It may not be a leader.  It may be a friend or a relative or a coworker.  Acknowledge them in some way and say thanks.

The Winner Is…

Thanks for all your book recommendations.  I am planning my next run to Azizi Books and then to the 57th Street Bookstore with great gratitude.  I hope a few of you can pick up your own copy of Ms. McFadden’s latest.  For one of you that will be as easy as going to the mailbox. 

The winner and soon recipient of Glorious is Vanessa.  I will email you this morning to get a mailing address.

It looks like my next author interview will be with Mr. Ravi Howard, author of Like Trees, Walking.  After that, I hope to have Ms. Donna Freitas, author of This Gorgeous Game, and Ms. Maaza Mengiste, author of Beneath the Lion’s Gaze, on the blog.  Perhaps you should pick those novels up or visit your local library for them. 

If you know of authors, particularly debut authors–more fiction than nonfiction if you will–let me know about their work.  I’ll consider adding the works to my leaning pile on the shelf and contacting them about an interview.

Interview with Bernice McFadden & Book Giveaway

One of the hopes I have for this blog is to point to, highlight, and, if I can, scream about some of the things I’m reading.  Today’s interview is a third example of me telling you about books I’ve read through author interviews; the first is here and the second is here.   I want to commend to you Glorious

I asked Ms. Bernice McFadden if she would like to be interviewed and she graciously accepted.  I’m glad to bring my questions and her answers about Glorious, introducing you to this story and her work as a novelist.  The interview follows the back cover copy for Glorious:

Glorious is set against the backdrops of the Jim Crow South, the Harlem Renaissance, and the Civil Rights era.  Blending fact and fiction, Glorious is the sotry of Easter Venetta Bartlett, a fictional Harlem Renaissance writer whose tumultuous path to success, ruin, and ultimately revival offers a candid a true portrait of the American experience in all its beauty and cruelty.

It is a novel informed by the question that is the title of Langston Hughes’s famous poem: What happens to a dream deferred?  Based on years of research, this heart-wrenching fictional account is given added resonance by factual events coupled with real and imagined larger-than-life characters.  Glorious is an audacious exploration into the nature of self-hatred, love, possession, ego, betrayal, and, finally, redemption.

Glorious

Now, the interview.

  • You wrote a great story, pulling from people of the past.  What’s the role of history in Glorious?  Do you think that you’ve used history as a character in your work?  When I write fiction that includes historical reference, I do so simply to inform my reader – black and white – of Black peoples role in history, because we as a people have been erased from said history. I do believe that history becomes a character in and of itself in my books.

 

  • There is a sense that you are telling several people’s stories.  For example, several writers from the Harlem Renaissance are featured.  Are there writers from that period who, if you will, 1) shaped the story with you and 2) who inspire your work?  I have been inspired by every factual character who appears in Glorious. Without their participation the story would not have been authentic and thus, would not have rang true with the readers.

 

  • Easter is the main character in Glorious.  She carries into the story hope, certainty, perseverance, and strength.  How did you develop her character?  How did you listen to her voice?  I allow my characters to tell their own stories. I do not force their hands and so I allow them to share with me and the world what they choose to share.

 

  • Sexuality, affection, and love play prominent roles in Glorious.  I would say the same for Sugar and This Bitter Earth.  For me, the love and intimacy I read in your pages add a natural and normal quality to the relationships in the stories.  My sense as a reader is that scenes like those you write give us a view of sexuality and love.  How do you think your work—this current one or the body of your work—helps readers image and see examples of love?  My depictions of love and sex are raw. Meaning, that I do not dress those emotions/actions up in order to make the reader comfortable. It is what it is – and that is exactly what I want the reader to walk away with – not some glamorized, Hollywood version of love and sex.

 

  • Give us a glimpse of how you found the publisher for GloriousI queried Akashic Books in the Spring of 2010 and they quickly responded, requesting a copy of the manuscript. I bumped into the publisher (Johnny Temple) at the Harlem Book Fair in July 2010. He told me that he still had not read the ms – but that one of his associates had, and loved it! In August 2010 I received and email from Johnny conveying his admiration for the work and his desire to publish it. The rest..as you know.. is Glorious literary history!

 

  • Your blog and your novels always include a highlight, emphasis, or reminder about communicators from before.  What other writers would you like to point readers to?  What titles should readers have on our shelves?  I am blessed to know a bevy of incredible writers! Donna Hill, Deberry and Grant, Bonnie Glover, Tina McElroy Ansa, Carleen Brice, Lori Thorps, Elizabeth Nunez and Stacey Patton- are some writers that readers should support and add to their collections!

 

  • What do writers who aspire to publish fiction need to know that they don’t?  Aspiring writers need to know that they will have to wear two hats. That of the creator and the marketing/publicity professional.

 

  • If I read you correctly, cultural memory is important to you.  What do you mean by cultural memory and why is it significant?  My slogan is: I write to breathe life back into memory. I say this because we (Af-Am’s) have been stricken from numerous pages of history books. In school are children are taught that our history begins with slavery. It’s an abomination!  It is of the utmost importance to know where we come from. Undertsanding our origins will place us firmley on a successful journey towards enlightement and success. If you believe you’ve come from nothing – it’s most likely you will become nothing. We come from greatness and we need to be aware of that!

 

  • What’s the last novel you read, and what’s the one you’re looking to read? What else is in your to-be-read pile?  I had the immense pleasure of reading Anna-in-Between by Elizabeth Nunez. I am very much looking forward to reading Perfect Peace, by Daniel Black.

 

  • How can my blog readers stay connected to you?  I am active on FB and my handle on Twitter is: queenazsa. Interested individuals can visit my cyber-home at: www.bernicemcfadden.com

Finally, I am giving away a new copy of Glorious!  All you need to do is post a comment, either recommending a book or posting the title of the last book you read by Sunday, 11:59PM, CST.  I will randomly select a winner on Monday.  Check in after that because I’ll announce who’s won and ask you to email me your mailing address.

Trusting Your Voice As An Act of Faith

Nonfiction connects with the truth-telling in explicit ways.  Fiction is different.  Writing fiction means I make things up. 

When you make things up, things which are supposed to read real, it’s challenging.  It’s even more challenging when that work isn’t being consumed by a reading public.  You have to build an internal trust in your voice as a writer without the benefit of readers who buy your stories and your books.  Trusting yourself is harder when you’re the only person interacting with your material.

I mentioned that I was pursuing constructive feedback by getting an editor.  I’m not ready to tell you about that process yet.  It may take me getting out from under the weight of changes-yet-to-be-made in that manuscript.  But I am prepared to say that writing and revising characters requires trusting yourself.  It requires trusting your eyes, what you saw, and your ears, what you heard from those characters. 

Cultivating internal trust is work.  Developing trust–in yourself or in someone else–is an act of faith.  You believe there is something worthwhile in you or in that relationship.  So you trust.  You give a little.  You aren’t disappointed.  At least not massively.  So you give more.  Trust grows.  Then, it flowers and when trust flowers, fragrance results.

Here are some pointers for maintaining the small stable sediment called trust, particularly when you get feedback that may remove things you thought were unmoveable:

  • Trusting your vision and your voice takes courage.  When you get feedback from a reader, writer, critic, or editor, your trust must be intact.  But that’s courageous effort.  If you’re not bold or strong, work at it before you give that work away.  Otherwise, the small part of you that you send to that reader or critic will come back smaller, and you will base your own estimation of yourself on that small receipt. 

 

  • Be generous.  Give away your words and your work.  When you ask for feedback from that reader, see it as a chance to, first, give.  When you give, it simply doesn’t matter (or it shouldn’t) whether something will return to you.  That’s more of an investment.  What I’m thinking of is a bit more scary.  Giving is always one-sided, motivated only by what you already have, not what you intend to get.

 

  • Remember what matters is the story.  In my case, I’m writing a story.  Whatever’s good for the story is good for me to know.  My feelings may get hurt when you tell me that a character is flat or unexceptional or, perhaps worse, forgettable.  But what matters is the strength of the story.  It’s the end result, the end product, that matters, not process of cutting and crying, weeping and wailing.

 

  • Trust you have something to say–even if you need help saying it.  It’s not bad to get help.  Be it while writing and revising a manuscript, developing a relationship, starting a new project, or whatever else you can imagine.  Seeking and using help is a sign of fortitude and humility and meekness, which I always think of as internal strength.  When you have something to say, let others help you.  You can be great at having something to say and terrible at crafting that message.  Of course that’s not true in writing but in other areas of life, the point is that you can do your thing well and be supported by people capable in areas where you’re weaker.  Don’t be convinced to the contrary.

If you’d like to see another perspective on a similiar topic, two links:

1) Steven Pressfield wrote a great post, and it’s a resource that I think you’ll be interested in.  It talks about the Ego and the Unconscious, which I’m pretty sensitive to since I just finished Robert Butler’s From Where You Dream.

2) Jane Freidman has a recent guest post on her blog that’s not about the writer or the writer’s unconscious at all.  Shennandoah Diaz discusses the merits of developing a profile of your reader.

Writing in My Skin

I’m learning the publishing business as you may know from a few posts in the previous addresses.  Among the many things I’ve read is that there are many obstacles in a writer’s way when it comes to publishing. 

When you’re unpublished, there is a long list of things that could be or must be done to get published.  Platforms and marketing ability, good writing and better storytelling ability, a niche or an audience who’s waiting or developing around some of the things you’re saying.  It goes on and on. 

When I consider things, these are a few salient challenges for me in my road to publication:

1) Men don’t read.  At least that’s the prevailing thought in publishing.  Of course, I disagree but I understand that point.  A not-so recent article reintroduces the idea but it has sat inside industry meeting rooms for years.  In some mysterious way, this connects with me as a male writer.  I’m not writing for men (I’m writing for readers), but I am a man.  I don’t write romance in general, which is the strongest selling genre, a genre read and written mostly by women so far as publishers can tell.  So, my maleness–even though men have dominated publishing historically–is an issue as I approach a publishing career.  If I write what sells, my maleness can be a gift to romance or it can be suspicious to the largest readership.  But then my question becomes how do I write to men.  How do I write to continue to invite men and women into the pleasing world of reading?  That’s the point to me anyway.  Sure, selling is important, but cultivating love for words and reading is so much more impressive a goal.  Selling is a means.

2) I am a black man who writes.  It’s a challenge in the sense that, acknowledged or not, race and culture influence not only my writing process from start to finish but also how my stories are read by agents and editors who are my first readers, if you will.  I got a response from an agent earlier this year who said that my manuscript was strong but that they weren’t sure I could compete among my competitors.  My story was familiar, she said.  Of course I disagree.  There was no published title with the plot I was pitching, nothing has shown up on Publishing Marketplace, but that’s the feedback.  The publishing world has too many black writers writing about familiar plots with black characters.  That was hard to read and harder to think through, but it brought me to ethnic identity.  Writers like Tayari Jones and Bernice McFadden post insightful comments from time to time in this area. 

3) Finding a home is an issue.  I’m not talking about a publishing home but an audience.  I’ve thought a lot about my audience.  One of the most popular questions agents and publishers ask is “Who are you writing for?”  There is some disagreement on this.  Some but not much.  If you don’t know your answer as an unpublished writer, your work is probably not going to be accepted or contracted.  You’ve got to know your audience, write for your audience.  It’s possible to cross audiences, but one must know well the rules of those roads.  And usually a writer has to travel one path long enough until a publisher will trust that he can explore new grounds.

4) Your audience is often defined by someone else.  Audience relates to genres, and since genres are more rigid than flexible, a part of naming your audience is accepting established boundaries.  I can function in boundaries, but I already see my work as crossing lines.  It’s interesting to get some of the initial feedback from my freelance editor.  One thing I expect to talk with her about is the issue–after I digest the critique letter over the next few days.  I see the genre, understand the audience that generally comes along with that genre, but how do I write with integrity if I don’t quite fit?  Do I pay dues first?  Do I get that first or second or tenth book deal and then worry about these things?

That’s it for today, except this one last thing.

For your continued reading enjoyment, Rachel Deahl’s article in PW discusses men and publishing and Stephen King’s 2005 essay says everything you need to know about writing.

bell hooks on Writing and Gardner Taylor on Preaching

I’m pulling quotes from two of my favorite people, bell hooks and Dr. Gardner Calvin Taylor.  I consider preaching (or pastoring) and writing to be my two main works.  So, as I reflect on my labor, I offer you their thoughts.  First, bell hooks.

bell hooks is a writer, teacher, and lecturer, and her areas of strength and interest are the politics of race, class, and gender, sexuality and human relationships, and writing.  I suppose there are many others.  I’m drawing this quote from her book about writing, Remembered Rapture, a book every writer should have.  In this quote, professor hooks is talking about writing inside and despite the structures and strictures of the academy in the chapter, “dancing with words.”  You can see several synopses of her books at South End Press.

Writing to fulfill professional career expectations is not the same as writing that emerges as the fulfillment of a yearning to work with words when there is no clear benefit or reward, when it is the experience of writing that matters.  When writing is a desired and accepted calling, the writer is devoted, constant, and committed in a manner that is akin to monastic spiritual practice.  I am driven to write, compelled by a constant longing to choreograph, to bring words together in patterns and configurations that move the spirit.  As a writer, I seek that moment of ecstasy when I am dancing with words, moving in a circle of love so complete that like the mystical dervish who dances to be one with the Divine, I move toward the infinite.  That fulfillment can be realized whether I write poetry, a play, fiction, or critical essays.

Dr. Taylor served as Pastor of Concord Baptist Church of Christ in Brooklyn, NY for 42 years before retiring twenty years ago.  His exemplary preaching style and content is instructive, but his words about the role and task for preachers is what I’m pulling from in this post.  The quote is from the Yale University Lyman Beecher Lecture Series in 1976.  The particular lecture is “Preaching the Whole Counsel of God.”  Dr. Taylor is speaking from a passage in the book of Ezekiel where the watchman’s role is discussed.

It is the watchman’s job to watch.  Such a person is expected to scan the hills and to peer toward the valleys with the eye straining to see the rim of the horizon.  On who is chosen to watch is freed from the regular occupational responsibilities of those who select him or her to be watchman…It is the watchman’s job to see, since for this cause came he or she to the appointed lookout tower.  The watchman has been given the vantage point of an elevated position in order to see.  The watchman has, likewise, no right to claim indifference or indolence or sleepiness, for he or she is spared many of the irksome annoyances of the workaday world.  The sentry has no right to claim poor vision, since the capacity to see, to see clearly and accurately, is one of the principal requirements of a watchman…There is little place for ranting by the preacher, but there is a very large place indeed for urgency and for an earnest, honest passion.  The stakes are high!

These are two people, among too many others, who anchor me in my work.  If you like, tell us who anchors you in yours?

I Hope They Ordain Me, pt. 3 of 3

As I said in the first post, I am working on a paper as a part of my ordination process.  I like papers.  I haven’t always.  In fact, it took a conversation and a graded essay from Dr. Timothy Boddie, then English professor at Hampton University, before I started to like writing.  Dr. Boddie told me something simple but life-changing.  He said–and this isn’t spectacular literally–that I was a good writer. 

I couldn’t take his words too far.  It was my first semester.  I had many more essays to write.  He knew that.  He knew that he was first complimenting or commenting on the work in front of him.  He was speaking more to potential than to evidence.  But.  That conversation changed the way I look at myself and at writing.  Suddenly it was something I could do.  Writing was something I was maybe even good at.

I’ve written a few papers since that conversation as a freshman at Hampton.  As I look at this essay for my ordination, I’m thinking, “I’ve done this before.”  I’ve done it in seminary and other places.  So I look forward to pulling thoughts down next week into some form.

It’ll give me another chance to articulate what I think, why I think it, and how it looks in the context of a church setting.  I’m not working in the academy but in a congregation.  In the congregation, everything a pastor does–not quite everything–should has some meaning, significance, or relevance to the mission of that church.  Knowing for the sake of knowing, producing knowledge alone, doesn’t work.  Knowledge ties to doing and being.  So I’m looking forward to those paragraphs between next week and the September 1 deadline.

If you had to summarize what you believe–about faith, about life, about love, about anything that matters–how would you start?  What stories would you tell?  Who would be the indispensable characters in those stories?

Links and Things-To-Do

Instead of the second guest post for the Church and Dating conversation (that post will come later), I offer these…

Here are a few interesting links:

  • One of favorite writers, Tayari Jones, has a brief post here on metaphor and why finishing a novel is, in her opinion, not quite like giving birth.

 

  • Here is an example of generosity mixed with books and stirred with a little bit of literary love, and you might be able to get a really good book.

 

  • C.W. Gortner’s post is a good reminder here of what historical fiction is and what the role of history is related to fiction.

Things-to-do in the city:

  • The 16th Annual Black Harvest Film Festival has started.  The festival is our city’s own showcase for the black experience on film and video, and it features special events, sneak previews, and independent film from Chicago and around the world.  You will find at least one something that interests you from August 6 through September 2.

 

  • Hyde Park’s annual jazz fest takes listeners to more than a dozen neighborhood spots to hear good music.  If you’d like an introduction to the community, are interested in meeting a few new people, or are thinking about a creative way to have a little fun, come.

 

  • Pearl Fest is coming to the Mandrake Park at 39th and Drexel.  It’s August 21, 2010.  The flyers aren’t done yet, but I’ll post it when it’s ready.  You can also watch the Little Black Pearl website for updates.

 

  • The Chicago Jazz Festival is September 2-5, 2010.  It’s free, in a beautiful venue at the Pritzker pavilion, and will expose you to an array of artists and styles of jazz.  Attend.  Really.