I published my first full-length novel
Once More in the summer of 2018. Four years of work finally complete. I had big dreams for that novel. Big fat audacious dreams. Dreams that no one could convince me were crazy.
Until none of them came true.
We could sit here and analyze all the reasons why, but that would be boring for literally everyone except me. And frankly, I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm tired of second-guessing. I'm tired of not being as proud of my accomplishment as I really should be. Sometimes when a dream gets too big and it just doesn't come through, it kicks the wind right out of you. It did for me anyway.
That's one reason why working on the next book in the series became too hard. It felt pointless. The words seemed worthless. The work was meaningless. It was all
less than it had been before.
Eventually, all work on The Sayen Falls series came to a halt. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't write anymore. My characters stayed with me. They're with me every minute of every day. If you've ever seen the movie
The Man Who Invented Christmas about Charles Dickens writing
A Christmas Carol I am here to tell you that is legitimately how it works. The characters appear, they follow you around, and sometimes they even heckle you. Mine are typically too kind for that though. They just spew ideas and plot twists at me. They don't understand that I gave up.
Yes, I gave up. There I finally said it. I gave up on the big dreams and therefore I gave up on all of it. I've worked on other things--this blog and podcast, for example. I've tinkered with other ideas and projects. But the thing that I love, writing fiction, I gave up.
But the name of this episode is "Begin Again" so there's gotta be a plot twist here, right? Of course there is, or else I couldn't have named the episode "Begin Again."
Actually, that's not entirely true. I planned this episode last week, right after I wrote the one about beginning new things. I had this whole deep awesome conversation with Marybeth about not just beginning new things, but beginning again. Picking up things you used to do and doing them again. We talked about how hard that can be. She said that it can be really hard to be bad at something you used to be good at. Building that momentum to get good at something again can feel so pointless.
But, my friends, sometimes you just have to big fat do it anyway.
Begin again when it feels too hard. Begin again when it hurts. Begin again when the voices inside your head tell you that it's pointless or worthless or meaningless. Begin again even if you gave up. Begin again when the seasons of life change and you have time again. Begin again because beginnings are always worth it.
When I mentally drafted this episode my own writing had nothing to do with it. I planned on talking about muscle memory and making this grand metaphor. I had no intention of talking about Sayen Falls and
Once More and the new book
Mend. But those characters finally got their way. Their voices finally got too loud. The cup of inspiration finally got too full and I had to spill out what was inside.
Let me explain.
I wrote
Once More absolutely drunk on inspiration. I soaked up so many stories, both written and filmed, and used it to fuel my own narrative. Really, I was driven to write a counter-narrative. In a culture that produces so many stories about hopelessness, depravity, brokenness, and shame, I wanted to craft a story of hope. And not like Hallmark hope where it's all okay because, by golly, it snowed just in time for Christmas and we saved Grandpa's tree farm-slash-ski lodge and fell in love with the lumberjack next door. No, I wanted to write something more substantive. Something about community, friendship, family, and relationships. Something that felt like God was in the pages, even if I didn't club anyone over the head with Jesus Juke. [Please note: I'm all for clearly sharing the gospel! I also however cringe whenever Christian fiction has the token come to Jesus moment and then everything is rainbows and unicorns.]
Despite the fact that all my wildest dreams are still unrealized, I think I did do what I set out to do. I wrote a story brimming with hope.
And, as I chase my own healing these days, I find the story of hope coming back to me. That thread of inspiration is finding its revival. It's not about what didn't happen anymore. It's about the story left to tell, the hope left to be imparted.
When I wrote
Once More it was often the darker movies that brought about the most urgency for me to write. I don't do twisted or horror movies, so we can set that aside. But those nitty gritty dramas that are artsy and beautiful but also horribly bleak....yeah those, I'd binge watch those and then I couldn't write fast enough.
The other night my husband and I went to the movies. We saw
Knives Out. This movie isn't horribly bleak or terribly depressing. In fact, it's overall message is a pretty good one and it's also pretty funny. No spoilers. But something about it sparked that same frenzy to write. Maybe it's because it was so well-written itself. Maybe it's because I just love Chris Evans and something about chiseled jawlines seems to help me write.
But it's more likely that it's because just the day before, while running on the treadmill, I had this crazy good idea for some of my characters. And in that same moment, I set my younger selves free from the burdens they were left with.
Does anyone else ever feel that way? You look back at the younger versions of you and realize they were left holding the bag? My kids found some pieces and parts to old show choir costumes the other night which led to us watching a video of a performance my junior year. My kids barely recognized me as seventeen-year-old me sang and twirled around the stage. I recognized me, but I couldn't reconcile her to myself now. It left me almost haunted.
That seventeen-year-old girl was such a complicated person. In some ways, so vibrant and confident and optimistic. But in so many other ways, riddled with insecurity, desperate for attention, and so afraid of what people thought of her. Man, that last one has sure stuck around for awhile. That didn't leave with the teenage angst like some of the other baggage.
I got on the treadmill after we watched that video. I was probably motivated by seeing myself about a million pounds lighter. But as I ran, and I sang along to one of my favorite tunes by the East Pointers, "If You're Still In, I'm In" I realized I could set that girl free. I could tell her that even though things were going to hurt really bad and life would sometimes look really bleak, she makes it.
I made it. I'm now thirty-five years old and while I don't look very much like that rail-thin teenager, I have done amazing things. I have given birth to two humans who need me and love me very much. I married a man I admire, adore, and respect. I completed college and held down jobs and made friends and lost friends and made new friends. I started ministries from scratch and stepped into place in other ones. I wrote a novel. That's one the seventeen-year-old me would be thrilled to know.
Yes, dear, you actually write a novel. You finish it. You publish it and let people read it.
And so somehow, in the mix of self-healing and movie magic and an overactive imagination riddled with noisy characters, that cup of inspiration filled to over-flowing. After our date night, we came home, got the kids in bed, and I cracked open the laptop. I opened a fresh page and I wrote. For the first time in months, I didn't worry about if it was good, or if anyone would like it, or if it would ever win prizes. I just wrote the words, I set the scene, I told the story. When I got tired, I stopped.
And as I blinked, bleary-eyed at three pages worth of story-telling I realized.
I began again.
Just like Marybeth had said, it can be hard to begin again. It's hard to be bad at something you were good at. Let me tell you, writing a rough draft after spending well over a year simply polishing a complete draft is brutal. The nuance is gone. It's all rough hewn and full of splinters.
But if I don't write this story, no one will. And if I don't choose to beat the drum of hope in a culture obsessed with our own darkness, then who will? If I just give up, then who wins? Not me. I don't even have a shot anymore. I'm not even in the arena. Hiding at home under the covers, no one wins.
Begin again. Whatever it is. Maybe it's eating healthier or working out. Maybe it's painting or pottery or puppetry. Maybe it's playing an instrument or writing music or dancing. Maybe it's restoring furniture or cars or relationships. Maybe it's believing in yourself and giving your dreams new life. It's really okay if they didn't work out the first time. Begin again and maybe the dream will be attainable this time.
If you gave up like me, that doesn't have to be the end. If life got super busy, that's okay. I stopped writing for six months when I had my daughter. Who can write a novel with a newborn crying at you and a preschooler wanting to tell you things night and day? Begin again when the time comes. And if you're afraid, overwhelmed, or exhausted at the thought, you're not alone. We all are sometimes. Simply begin again. No one's asking you to climb the whole mountain. Just take that step.
And if you're wondering why? Like, why does any of this inspirational hooey really matter? I'll tell you. The things we choose to do reflect what we really believe. If we choose to create, cultivate, or celebrate we believe that there is more than darkness and busyness. If we choose to use our talents, gifts, and passions to the best of our abilities, we believe that we were given those things for a real reason. And we were.
God gives us our gifts, talents, and passions.
God directed us to create, to cultivate, and to celebrate. It's all through the scriptures. Pursuing a passion is not silly--it's God glorifying, darkness defying, potentially edifying, and arguably sanctifying.
Moses was a begin againer. He murdered an Egyptian, fled into the wilderness, and became a shepherd for like forty years before God spoke to him in the burning bush. Moses had his doubts about the assignment--after all, as if murdering someone wasn't enough, he had a speech impediment. But God insisted, and Moses began again.
Jonah was a begin againer. He outright defied God's directions to go to Nineveh, ended up in a dangerous storm at sea, was thrown overboard, and swallowed by a giant stinking fish. You wanna talk beginning again? Trying do that after you've been spit out on land after three days in the belly of a big fish.
Peter, good ol' Peter, was a begin againer. He denied Jesus three times on the night of Jesus's arrest. And Jesus heard him do it. From what we can tell, Peter gave up after the crucifixion. You can't really blame him. Watching your best friend be mercilessly murdered at the behest of the Jewish Sanhedrin and at the hands of Roman soldiers right after you denied knowing him is going to beat the living daylights out of all you believed in. But after three days, Peter was first inside the empty tomb, gobsmacked and confused. Peter was in the upper room when Jesus walked in, alive. And it was Peter who swam to shore that morning Jesus cooked his friends some fish for breakfast. And this was his "begin again" moment. Jesus asked him three times if Peter loved him, and each time Peter insisted that he did, Jesus told him to feed his sheep. Begin again, Peter. Begin again.
Now, if God can use a murderer with a speech impediment, a disobedient preacher vomited out of a whale, and impetuous, cowardly, confused Peter.....God can use you too. Your "begin again" moment might not feel like a big deal, but only God knows how it can be used to impact eternity.
Maybe my books never become best sellers. Maybe I never win the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, because duh, I write the script adaptation of my book. Maybe a lot of things never happen. But maybe someone finds some hope in my book Maybe someone finds Jesus tucked into the narrative I tell. And maybe that's enough to echo in eternity. I'll never know if I don't do it.
So, here's to beginning again. If I can begin again, so can you.
Gather the Good
I would be absolutely remiss if I didn't begin this Gather the Good segment with telling you about the song "Begin Againers" by Scott Mulvahill. He's an upright bass player and an increidble vocalist based in Nashville. Definitely check out that specific song, and his latest single, "Say I Love You". That one is just insanely beautiful. And if you like kinda jazzy, bluesy indie awesome music, listen to one of his full albums. He's got a really cool vibe and is another one of those really skilled musicians that just blow my mind.
I'm also going to tell you about two audiobooks I've been listening to. Remember how I said I don't really do audiobooks? Well, plot twist, I've listened to three this year. The first was
Little Women and I keep meaning to do a whole episode on that, so we'll see if that comes together sometime. But today I want to tell you about the other two books. My amazing friend Jill recommended the book
You're the Girl for the Job by Jess Connely to me. This book is the real deal. She's frank and honest, and so empowering but in this totally solid Jesus way. I'm still listening to it and haven't finished it yet, but it's a really great book if you're beginning something new, or beginning again, or even just struggling to keep going.
And the other book, oh goodness, this book has been incredible. It's Beth Moore's newest book
Chasing Vines. I struggle to find words to adequately describe this book that doesn't just morph into senseless fan girling. I'll try though. Beth uses the imagery of grape vines and vineyards, and dives really deep into all the ways this imagery applies to us. It's been mind-blowing. And in all the cliches, I've laughed, I've cried, but I have seriously had so much food for thought. And I've had so much awe for our God. He's so thoughtful, so intentional, and only he plan and redeem history over and over again, and weave a grape vine through it all to symbolize everything he's doing! I have deeply appreciated her honesty and vulnerablity, her candor and frankness, and her humor and humility. I will be listening to this one again, and very likely buying a physical copy so I can mark it all up.
So there ya go, some upright bass music with Scott Mulvahill, some Jesus-filled empowerment with Jess Connely's book
You're the Girl for the Job, and some crazy good grape truth with Beth Moore's book
Chasing Vines. This is some serious goodness, definitely check it out.
