Monthly Archives: November 2011

Writing for the Glory of God (Introduction)

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Just before Thanksgiving I returned from a convention of the Florida branch of the Association of Christian Schools International in Orlando. It was a busy time, and preparation for it made me put my book writing on hold for a while.

But that’s not so much what I want to talk about. I want to give an outline of my two presentations. This one was called “Teaching Writing by Teaching Rewriting.”

One way to learn writing (or in this case, help our students learn writing) is to work on revising already-written material, either to help it meet some basic standards, or to accomplish some other purpose.

Why is this helpful?

For one thing, it removes the questions about what to write about. You know, for all those students who have some trouble getting their imaginations going.

But even for those of us with no end of imagination, rewriting the work of others can  still help. That’s because the writing belongs to someone else.

It’s comparable, I told the convention delegates, to the difference between cleaning out our own attic and cleaning out someone else’s. We’ll have no sentimental feelings and will be able to approach the writing more objectively.

‘Cause if you’re a writer, you know the feeling that this is your baby, and it’s very hard to cut off its arm. Somebody else’s? No problem.

Well, maybe that analogy wasn’t the best, but you get the idea.

The principles you use to work on someone else’s writing are ones that you’ll learn to objectively apply to your own, because ALL of us can afford to tighten and improve our writing.

And I recommended a book! It has served me well, yea, these 30 years. I’ve gone through it in-depth at least twice through the years and scanned it pretty thoroughly a third time.

It’s a unique book, I think, for learning rewriting, because the author teaches the principles, then gives assignments, then gives answers in the back so you can compare your work to his.

In the five stages of writing (prewriting, rough draft, revising, proofreading, final draft), it’s the third step, the revising, that gets short shrift, again and again. This workshop is designed to help remedy that problem.

The principles of rewriting are a passion for me, because rewriting is what my writing is all about. I find great stories, tweak them, add conversation and details, and help the work of God come alive for another generation.

I’ll explain some of the primary principles next time.

Creative Nonfiction: a new writing genre

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Well, only relatively new as an actual genre, but completely new to me.

As soon as I saw it, I loved it! And the reason I loved it so much is that as soon as I read about it, I saw . . . that’s what I write.

I was working on my seminar “Teaching Writing by Teaching Rewriting. ” But I started rethinking the seminar’s two parts: “Rewriting Nonfiction” and “Rewriting Fiction.”

Frankly, this traditional division was becoming more and more dissatisfying.

A biography of a great man of God, written on the lower-elementary level

Because I write nonfiction, but I write it like a story. I find really good true stories—the kind that show how great God is—and I rewrite them, with natural dialogue and specific descriptions. I imagine myself there, and seek to bring my readers there with me.

That’s what I’ll be talking about to teachers in Orlando in a couple of weeks.

So really, does the description of my own writing fit under the Nonfiction section, or the Fiction? Not really nonfiction, since I use my imagination to fill out details.

But it’s not fiction either, because the stories are true.

A  memoir rewrite, mid-elementary level

Creative Nonfiction. What a great genre! It describes all the stories we write that are basically true but have details filled in.

If you’re working on a memoir and have a thousand memories all jumbled together, this is your genre. You want to tell what really happened, but you may have to guess at the order of events; you want to  include dialogue that’s as close to the original as possible but might not be exactly accurate; you want to describe details the way they might have been, probably were, but you’re not exactly sure. . . .

So I’m changing my seminar divisions. The second section will be “Rewriting Stories,” and it won’t matter if they’re imaginary stories or true stories.

And what’s the opposite of stories? Hmmm. . . . I’m still working on that one.

Where’s the joy? Seriously. (Part 4)

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A friend listened to the song “If You Want Me To” by the blind songwriter Ginny Owens. She said, “I can’t say this is where I am all the time, but it’s where I want to be. I know it’s all true.”

That’s it. That’s it. “It may not be where I am all the time, but it’s where I want to be. I know it’s all true.”

This friend was about to have surgery and didn’t know if she might come out a paraplegic.

Me? I have no impending tragedy hanging over my head. Rather, my daughter, who got married a year and an half ago, just became the mother of a precious little boy. And me? I’m a new grandmother.

I’m blessed over and over, with many blessings, countless reasons to be flowing out with joy.

But something happened in those happy first few days. I began to react to the lack of sleep, the emotions, the inability to get to all the things I thought I ought to be accomplishing, the small slights and disappointments. I began to get . . . well, discouraged.

Stupid, stupid, I told myself. But it didn’t help.

Let’s see. I complained that I had no hands until I met a man who had no feet. Is that how that goes? Something like that, anyway.

It was pretty short-lived, that stupid time of reacting to circumstances, to hormones, to lack of sleep. But as I worked through it with the Lord, it reminded me of a few truths that have at various times in my life stood out in bold relief.

Even when I don’t sense the joy . . .

. . . I know all the reasons for it haven’t changed.

Even when I feel like I’m slogging in slow motion . . .

. . . I know that the Lord is with me.

Even when I feel that I’ve hit rock bottom . . .

. . . I know that Jesus Christ is the Solid Rock underneath.

I won’t feel guilty for not feeling the joy I’ve been writing about (although, I have to admit, that was a temptation). Because I know that when I go through trials—the great ones, or the small ones that niggle like cankerworms—the joy will still be there, on the other side. Because my Savior doesn’t change.

This isn’t experience-based Christianity. It’s faith-based Christianity that expects experiences.

What kind of joy did Jesus know in the Garden of Gethsemane when He was praying with great bloody drops of sweat?

I have to say . . . I think He was filled with grief, not joy.

But Hebrews 12 tells me that for the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross, despising the shame.

Jesus knew that joy waited for Him on the other side. He had every confidence of that, even in His grief. He knew that, eventually, He would experience the joy.

And whether I’m walking alongside a precious new mother or walking in the valley of the shadow of death, even in the darkness, I can know with confidence that it’s all true.

Jesus Christ is my joy. Sometimes I taste it, like honey on my tongue. Sometimes I have to just trust and wait for Him to reveal Himself to me again.

But I always know it’s true.