Writer's Mailbag (part 2)

First of all, happy Leap Day! Did you know that there’s just a .068 percent chance of being born on Leap Day, compared to a .27 percent chance of being born any other day of the year? Around 200,000 leaplings live in the U.S., with up to four million worldwide. Bust out those facts at the office today and people will think you're awesome. (No, I haven't been carrying around that knowledge for the last four years, patiently waiting for this day to arrive. I got the Leap-Year facts here.)

Anyway, yesterday I got distracted in the process of answering this question: I've got a great idea for a book. How do I go about getting it published?

To keep tangents to a minimum, I'll offer my overly simplified step-by-step:

1. Write an outline for the book if it's fiction, or a proposal for the book if it's nonfiction. There are plenty of webby places to look up suggested formats or templates for how to do this. Here's one. Here's another.

2. Write two or three sample chapters of the book.

3. Rewrite the sample chapters, just to make sure they're as entertaining as possible, exemplary of your writing style and the direction of the book, and enticing enough to make the reader want more.

4. Find an agent or editor. Through personal contacts and networking, it is occasionally possible for unrepresented writers to get a manuscript into an editor's hands, but most big publishers today use agents as the first round of gatekeeping. Editors get unsolicited manuscripts all the time. But they know manuscripts coming from agents have at least been vetted by that agent. The best way to get an agent is to (again) use personal contacts -- if you have a personal relationship with a published writer, you might ask him or her for an introduction. (You won't always get it, as writers can be protective of their agents and don't want to waste their agent's time by recommending a lame-o writer.) Or you can attend writer's conferences where agents sometimes meet with prospective authors. Or you can blindly send out query letters or emails.

4.a. It can be pretty hard to get an agent. Especially a good one.

5. Let your agent do the equally difficult work of selling your book.

6. Pray. If there was ever a time to buy into the Prosperity Gospel, this is it.

7. Start writing.

It's probably obvious that the most important step -- other than coming up with a great idea -- is getting a good agent. The best way to do this? Networking, networking, networking. Introduce yourself to writers. Introduce yourself to agents. Make connections. Be bold. This is a time when you need someone to give you a shot, so don't be afraid to ask for a favor.

Can you get a book published without an agent? Yes. If you already know some editors. My first few books were published without an agent, but I knew the editors already through prior relationships or mutual friends (and the publishers were smaller). The books I'm working on now? Agented all the way.

P.S. I haven't mentioned traditional self-publishing via a commercial printer, because that's really expensive and often seen as proof that a book isn't good enough to get published "for real." Nor have I mentioned digital publishing-on-demand (like LuLu or iUniverse), because it's still new and I'm personally not too familiar with it. To work toward a career as a writer of books, the best path (for now, at least) is still the traditional one. But the industry is always changing, so who knows?

Writer's Mailbag

This is the question most often asked of published writers by potential writers: I've got a great idea for a book. How do I go about getting it published? (HT: Robert Fortner's comment on this post)

I wish I had a good -- or at least encouraging -- answer. These days it's hard to get a book in the hands of an editor. Once there, it's hard to get the book published. Once published, it's hard to get the book to sell.

(Now you will play me a sad song on your tiny violin.)

Anyway, the publishing world is notoriously hard to break into. Let's start with some background information. This is how a book gets published: Let's say a person comes up with a great idea for a book. He or she mulls it over for the next ten years, then finally sits down to write a couple of chapters. The prospective author shows the chapters to some writerly friends, who say, "wow, a rambling book about Christian spirituality using the unresolvable nature of jazz as a metaphor? That's pretty good!" and so the author writes up a 4-5 page proposal (if it's nonfiction) or plot outline (if it's fiction).

Then, through the power of interpersonal networking (or blind emailing after having scoured the Internet for contact info), those sample chapters and the proposal/outline are sent to an agent. The agent likes it, so he or she agrees to represent the potential author. The agent then packages up the book idea, has a few exploratory conversations with editors with whom he or she enjoys good relationships, and tries to sell them on the idea. Several editors may be contacted at once. Eventually, an editor becomes attracted to the book idea and thinks it might 1) be publishable; 2) be sellable; and 3) fit into the style, subject matter, and vision of the publisher, the editor's employer. Then the editor must sell the idea to an editorial team at the publisher, who talk it over for a long time before finally deciding whether or not to make an offer to the writer. Once this offer is made, the agent and editor and author negotiate the contract and before long, the author's book idea has been purchased by a publisher.

At which point the fun begins, because now you actually have to start writing the thing, while staring at a deadline and wondering how in the world you're gonna think of enough stuff to fulfill the 60,000-word manuscript you're contractually obligated to deliver.

(More violin music here, please.)

So there are several gatekeepers to the process, all of whom must be sold on the merits of the book. The author must convince the agent, the agent must convince the editor, the editor must convince his or her editorial board...and even further, as the publisher must then convince the buyers at Barnes & Noble and Borders and Wal-Mart, etc., to stock a whole bunch of copies of the book...and then the chain stores hope the book's marketing and packaging are able to convince the book-buying public to purchase the store's inventory.

Of course, I still haven't really answered the question: How do I get it published?

I guess I'll get to that tomorrow.

PFB Sports Survey

You can only hold onto your personal dignity for so long, and for me, that time has probably come to an end with my answers to the Prayers for Blowouts Sports Survey. Once you read today's post at this excellent sports/faith blog, it will become clear that: 1) I am a huge dork; and 2) No, really, HUGE.

For proof, I reference the 7th-grade hurdles story, or my admission about when I was once in three fantasy baseball leagues at the same time, or the part where I boast about my rec-league volleyball chops. Goodbye, cruel world.

Thanks to PFB founder Bryan Allain for featuring me in the survey. Go Cubs.

Gratitude and Deadly Vipers

Over the last few months, I've had the opportunity to do some freelance work for Mike Foster and his innovative culture-challenging, good-doing, non-profit organization, Ethur. One of Ethur's projects is the Junky Car Club, which is just plain awesome (and not only because I'm a contributor to its blog).

But the Ethur project I want to mention here is Deadly Viper Character Assassins, which is an excellent book and DVD series by Mike Foster and Jud Wilhite (who, incidentally, used to live in my hometown of Amarillo, Texas). Deadly Viper is an intentionally campy, fun exploration -- with a serious message -- of the brutal "assassins" that can kill a person's leadership and integrity.

When I read books, I always try to take at least one message or thought from it that I can apply to my life or career or thinking or whatever, and my takeaway message from Deadly Viper comes from p. 155 of the book, near the end. And it's a killer. I can't stop thinking about it. In fact, I've already spoken about it by way of a talk I gave at my church a couple months ago.

Here it is, from the chapter called "The High and Mighty Assassin":

One way to cultivate a respect for others is to make a list of all the people who helped you get where you are. It could be someone who hired you and gave you a shot. It could include your teachers, your friends, or the client who bought your product or believed in your ability. Write these names down...so that you can look at them and remember the importance of other people. Then look around you for someone else to believe in. Make an effort to land on someone else's list of important life influencers. Give someone a shot.

When I speak to college classes or aspiring writers, I always tell them it takes three things to get published. The first thing is talent, because you sort of have to be able to put words together to be a writer. The second is hard work, because it's not enough to want to write or to simply be able to write, you have to actually write. The third is networking -- because getting published is often as much about who you know as it is about how great of a writer you are. To that end, there are a handful of people in the publishing business who have been big life influencers for me. Editors who gave me a shot. Writers who introduced me to the right people. I owe the majority of my writing career to these friends and colleagues who helped me get my foot in the door.

The questions I keep asking myself are these:

1. Have I told these benefactors "thank you" for the influence they've had on my career?

2. Have I helped anyone else in that way? Am I on anyone's list of major life influencers?

Number one can be accomplished easily enough, and that's something I definitely need to do right away. Number two may take some work. But I need to move in that direction, and be willing to make whatever efforts I can to land on someone's list. Not to get any recognition or praise from it, but to give someone else the boost they needed to succeed.

I'll open it up to you lurkers. Who took a chance on you? To whom do you owe your success? Who helped you get where you are today?

Basilica Church

A quick thanks to Cameron Reeves and the gracious team at Basilica Church in Canyon, Texas, for inviting me in to speak last night. Basilica is a young church plant with a distinctively progressive, ecumenical outlook, and it's good to see young families and couples and college students creating community among themselves while also getting involved in the community around them. If you're in the area, it's a great place to worship on Sunday nights.

Pygmy Love Queens and Odd Book Titles

You might have noticed that my books tend to have longish, quirky titles and subtitles. So far in my writing career, I’ve had the luxury of being able to mostly have my way when it comes to book titles, and that’s resulted in books like A Guy’s Guide to Life: How to Become a Man in 208 Pages or Less (my favorite title so far.)

So, naturally, I’m a big supporter of The Bookseller Magazine’s annual Diagram Prize for the Oddest Book Title of the Year (The Bookseller is the UK’s industry mag). Nominations are in and the list has been narrowed to six finalists – and the public gets to vote on the winner.

Here’s the shortlist of nominated titles:

-- I Was Tortured by the Pygmy Love Queen, by Jasper McCutcheon

-- How to Write a How to Write Book, by Brian Paddock

-- Are Women Human? And Other International Dialogues, by Catharine A. MacKinnon

-- Cheese Problems Solved, by P.L.H. McSweeney

-- If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start With Your Legs, by Big Boom

-- People who Mattered in Southend and Beyond: From King Canute to Doctor Feelgood, by Dee Gordon

While there’s perhaps no more evocative phrase than “pygmy love queen” – and Jasper McCutcheon is pretty much the coolest name ever -- my vote is for Cheese Problems Solved. Because, first of all, I have never ever considered the existence of “cheese problems” of any sort, much less thought that an entire book was necessary to solve these problems. Also, when removed from the context of mealtime or photography, cheese is almost always a funny word. Good luck, P.L.H. McSweeney.

Exercise your freedom. Make your voice heard. Vote today.

Healing Waters International

I want to briefly use this (small, hardly noticeable) platform to call attention to one of my favorite social justice organizations. Healing Waters International is a Colorado-based nonprofit that provides clean water to the urban poor of Guatemala, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic by installing water purification systems in local churches. The churches then sell the safe, purified water -- at a greatly reduced price -- to the people in their neighborhoods. Instead of living with intestinal sickness caused by contaminated water, people who couldn't otherwise afford clean water are now able to get it. Along the way, they get connected with their local church. The churches, in turn, are given a great way to reach out to and care for their communities. It's a brilliant concept that meets physical, financial, and spiritual needs...all at once.

Anyway, Healing Waters recently celebrated a big milestone: five-and-a-half years after installing their first project, they've distributed their 50-millionth gallon of clean water. To celebrate, all employees and friends of HWI are donating an extra $50 to the organization. According to their calculations, every $50 the organization receives means one more person gains safe, affordable drinking water for the rest of his or her life.

If you've got $50 -- or, really, any amount of money -- burning a hole in your pocket, here's a great opportunity to do something about it.

Click here to celebrate HWI's 50 millionth gallon with your contribution.

For some background on the organization, you can read this 5-day travelogue from 2006 describing a trip I took with Healing Waters: Day One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

More on Estus Pirkle

As promised, I'd like to revisit the previous post about Estus Pirkle's mind-boggling evangelistic film from the 70s. If you're anything like me, you go through a multi-stage emotional process when you watch something like "The Believer's Heaven." Let me sum up this mental journey:

Stage 1: Shock.
(Is this real? This came from The Onion, right?)

Stage 2: Confusion.
(Why does he talk that way? Why does he hate New York City? What's with the white robes?)

Stage 3: Disbelief.
(They did NOT just show that Psycho grandma turn all young again, did they?)

Stage 4: Acceptance.
(This stage is often accompanied by large amounts of snark.)

Stage 5: Joy
(Little Evelyn Talbert!)

Stage 6: Weariness
(A little Evelyn Talbert goes a long way...)

Stage 7: A quick return to joy
(Evelyn Talbert + jazz hands)

Stage 8: Concern
(Huh. There are probably a lot of non-Christians watching this...)

Stage 9: Dismay
(...and right now they're adding it to their Christians-are-so-freaking-weird arsenal.)

Stage 10: Revulsion
(No no no no no no no NO. That is so NOT how it's supposed to be. That is NOT what we're all like.)

Because once the urge to mock the whole thing wears off, what we're left with is a really bad taste in our proverbial mouths. We're faced with a very weird, passionate film featuring a very weird, passionate man. The people in the film are breathtakingly dull, even when (supposedly) in heaven. The entire thing is humorless. The introduction and use of Evelyn Talbert is sappy, patronizing, and makes me feel about as uncomfortable as the people in Pirkle's audience look. Even worse, the film doesn't know it's so bad. However genuine and well-intentioned it may be, it commits the worst sin in our culture -- ignorance of its own weirdness.

Watching it doesn't make me want to go to Estus Pirkle's Heaven, nor does it make me want to follow Estus Pirkle's Jesus. Instead, it makes me want to run far, far away from Pirkle and his square old zombie flock. His views of Heaven and evangelism fashion and filmmaking and the virtues of singing little people are so foreign to me that if I look at the freakiness too long -- like gawking at the two-headed calf at the state fair -- I start to recoil in horror.

But -- BUT -- Pirkle is following the same Jesus I try to follow. Pirkle identifies himself as a Christian. So do I. Pirkle values personal salvation. I happen to be a fan of salvation, too. We have a lot more in common than I want to acknowledge.

So I need to remember this. I need to remember my revulsion at the weirdness of the video, because, to be real honest, that's the way a lot of non-christians look at us. They see Christians as freak shows. As crazy people. As people who seriously think building a sermon around Little Evelyn Talbert is a good idea. They see our subculture and are bewildered by it. And can we blame them? I don't think so. We're so embedded in our subculture of church events and praise-a-thons and elaborate Christmas pageants and gazillion-dollar buildings and positive encouraging music and name-it-claim-it prosperity preaching and single-party political identification that a lot of the time we can't see how insane it looks from outside our walls.

Compare that stuff to the life of Jesus. This is what imitating Christ looks like? Is this the logical extension of his ministry on Earth? If the disciples showed up today and surveyed American Christianity, do you honestly think they'd smile, pat each other on the back, and say, "Yep. This is pretty much where we hoped Christianity was headed"?

Sometimes we need to look at the entire subculture like we look at "The Believer's Heaven" -- with a critical, outsider's perspective. The non-believing world is to know we are Christians by our love. By the grace and peace that permeate our lives. Those things should stand out within our culture -- they certainly will be different -- but in a good way. They stand out because the poor are cared for and the hurting are healed and the outcasts are brought into the fold. Those things are attractive. They're winsome. In a painful world, actions infused by faith and hope and love are different.

But here's the deal: You can be different without being borderline crazy.

That's the Estus Pirkle principle.

Estus Pirkle and The Believer's Heaven

In recent weeks, a really short, low-budget religious film has been making the you've-gotta-see-this rounds among cackling irreligious hipsters and flinching people of faith. Written and produced by old-time Mississippi Baptist minister Estus Pirkle, the film is called "The Believer's Heaven." It was made in 1977. And it's...fascinating. Wonderful. Super-creepy. Pretty much any adjective you can think of applies to this unwitting masterpiece of well-intentioned evangelistic fervor and/or unintentional camp, depending on your point -of-view. (Hat tip: the gang at the Boar's Head Tavern.)

If you haven't seen it, I want you to watch it. Try to get through as much of it as possible, because there's a real treat toward the end. Her name is Little Evelyn Talbert, and she will haunt your dreams.

(Unfortunately, embedding is disabled, so you'll have to head over to YouTube to watch it: The Believer's Heaven featuring Estus Pirkle. It's a little over 3 minutes long. Be sure to come back after you've watched it for a helpful recap/viewer's guide to aid your enjoyment.)

...waiting...

OK. Have you watched it? Still with us? By way of a viewer's guide, I'll now offer my immediate, frame-by-frame take. Let's see if your thoughts matched mine:

0:21 -- Wow. He says "New York City" a lot there at the beginning, and he says it kinda weird. If you could punch a city in the face with vocal inflection, that's what it would sound like.

0:37 -- "Does this excite you?" A little. It sort of excites me when he dips his head and shoulders really fast to the side in order to emphasize a point, but only because I think he's about to fall over. Or break out into the Electric Slide.

0:46 -- This guy's diction is so familiar. The way he. So. Clearly. Enunciates. His. Words. Evenwhiletalkingfast. I know! It's Mitch Hedberg! It's Mitch Hedberg as a fast-talking southern preacher! (Want proof? Check out this video of the late Hedberg's Comedy Central special.)

0:56 -- Dramatization! Apparently, Heaven looks like dull people wearing white robes in the mid 1970s.

1:08 -- Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Ooh, sorry. That extreme close-up startled me.

1:13 -- Let me just say...I think it's in bad taste to show that old horn-rimmed glasses guy when you reveal "there's no aging in heaven." Especially a guy who doesn't look too thrilled to be headed there in the first place.

1:17 -- When the harp zinged, and it quick-cut to the old granny with the glasses, you got a scary Ms. Bates in "Psycho" vibe, didn't you? Shiver.

1:21 -- Oh my. Ms. Bates didn't get much better. Pastor Pirkle is gonna have to come up with some better before-and-after pics of those glorified bodies.

1:37 -- Was that God with the long white beard? Because he looked a little frail. I thought he'd be bigger.

1:45 -- Sad news, friends. It appears that only white folks get to go to Heaven.

1:51 -- There's no one of color in the Sweet By-and-By, but there are palm trees. Lots of them. Actually, the backdrop of Heaven looks a lot like a luau I went to a couple years ago in Maui. But without the pit-roasted pig. Because there's no death in Heaven. No mai-tais either.

1:57 -- There are, however, lots of extra Burger King crowns. Who are these guys? Disciples? Saints? Archangels? Baptist deacons?

2:03 -- OK, this scene cracks me up, because suddenly everyone's milling around with their hands flapping about as if their limbs have suddenly become independent from their bodies. Supposedly they are filled with joy and praising God. Or, perhaps, there are mosquitoes in Heaven.

2:11 -- Little Evelyn Talbert. 54 years old. 32 inches tall. One fireball of a screen presence.

2:34 -- Little Evelyn Talbert breaks into song. My heart leaps with joy.

2:40 -- Come on, organ-player guy! Smile! It's Little Evelyn Talbert, for crying out loud! And one of these days she's gonna walk with her Lord!

2:44 -- Same goes for you dapper lads on the front row. Evelyn's happy. Shouldn't you be happy, too?

2:46 -- Hmm. I don't know...when Evelyn squeezes her eyes shut, I start to worry. What if her little exuberance causes her to fall out of her chair?

2:50 -- That wide-eyed blonde kid, squashed between his parents, looks visibly frightened. Perhaps he, too, is worried about Evelyn. Dial it down a bit, Ms. Talbert. The jazz hands aren't entirely necessary.

3:09 -- Now it's time to get serious. Pastor Pirkle is no longer talking to the zombies in his audience, but to me.

3:14 -- Hmm. He's concerned that I might get killed in an earthquake. Pirkle probably should have come up with a more likely sudden-death scenario. Earthquakes are so West Coast. My childhood pastor liked to use car accidents, or getting hit by a bus, as possible ways to meet your Maker without warning.

3:20 -- This could be God's last call to me. If so, God is quite the prankster, because I totally would never have expected this.

3:24 -- Roll credits.

Tune in tomorrow for a more thoughtful discussion of the video. It'll be more serious. Not as serious as those people in Pirkle's audience, of course. But you can bet it'll be free of references to jazz hands.

I Am SO White

I was just introduced to a young but already popular blog, thanks to a tip from my brother. It's called Stuff White People Like, and it's either a brilliantly funny model of satire or it's borderline racist (depending on how sensitive you are about being stereotyped for your Caucasian-ness -- check out all the comments here). But personally? I think it's pretty entertaining. And accurate.

As a white person, I can attest that the following are pretty good descriptors of me:

#64 Recycling

Recycling is a part of a larger theme of stuff white people like: saving the earth without having to do that much.

#61 Bicycles

And of course, it goes without saying that white people who ride bikes like to talk about how they are saving the earth. If you know a person who rides to work, you should take them aside and say “Hey, thanks. Sincerely, The Earth.” Then give a thumbs up. That white person will ride home on a cloud.

#49 Vintage

Beginning in their late teens, white people begin an obsession with finding cool vintage clothing at local thrift shops and Goodwills.

#44 Public Radio

White people have an uncanny ability to make the ordinary exciting and there is no better forum than public radio to best showcase this.

#38 Arrested Development

If you are ever a white person’s house, and you see an orange box in their DVD collection, you should say “oh, you have Arrested Development, I love that show!” To which you will be offered a glass of wine, and perhaps an invitation to 80s night.

#19 Traveling

The second type of white person travel is Third World....But like with Europe, white people like to believe they are the first white people to make this trip. As such, they should be recognized as special and important individuals. That’s right, by going to a country, riding around on a bus or train, staying at a hotel or hostel and eating - they are doing something important for the world.

#9 Making You Feel Bad About Not Going Outside

While it would be easy to get angry at white people for this, remember it is hard wired in their head that the greatest thing a person can do in their free time is to hike/walk/bike outdoors.

#1 Coffee

I promise you that the first person at your school to drink coffee was a white person. You could kind of tell they didn’t enjoy it, but they did it anyways until they liked it - like cigarettes.

Sigh. Guilty as charged.

How Do You Write? (Part 1)

One question I always want to ask professional writers is about the process of writing for them -- when do you write, where do you write, what's your deskspace like, etc? Since this blog is partially supposed to be about the business and career and culture of writing, I'm thinking that might make a good ongoing series. So here's the first entry.

The first question: When do you write?

Short Answer: When I can.

Long Answer: It depends on what I'm writing. When I'm working under contract on a book (which is now), I write every day. Ever since I've been pursuing this side gig as a writer of books, it's been my goal not to let this hobby -- and that's unofficially what it is, since I have a real job -- get in the way of my other real job of being a dad and husband. So I made a commitment early on to write the bulk of my books on my time, not my family's. It's been a challenge, but so far it's worked. I get up at 6 every morning (except for Sundays) and try to get in at least 45 minutes to an hour of work before the kids get up for school. Then, at night, I'll put in another hour or two after the kids go to bed. I almost always stop working at midnight. At this point in my life, I can get by with six hours of sleep, but not much less than that.

This year, I'm taking Fridays off from work in order to complete the books -- so I spend all day every Friday writing. Those are nice days. I get a lot done.

When I'm writing magazine articles and freelance stuff, I'll tackle those whenever I have time. Usually they can be finished fairly quickly, so I'll sometimes work on them in small chunks during the day between projects at work, or over the course of a couple of nights at home.

To be perfectly honest, my late-night/early-morning writing schedule is sustainable, but only on a limited basis. Writing books is fun and fulfilling and if you're lucky you might reach a small level of notoriety -- currently my "fame" is of the hey, did I see you on the History Channel last night? kind -- but most writers agree that it can be a grind. (I've often heard authors say that it's much better to have written a book than it is to be writing a book.)

It's work. It doesn't take long before I get tired of the daily 6-to-7, 10-to-midnight daily routine, especially toward the end of the 3-4 months it takes me to complete a book. On school nights, our kids go to bed by 8:15, at which time I usually go to the gym and work out or swim. Then I come home and watch a recorded tv show with my wife, just to relax and hang out a bit before peeling myself off the couch and heading to the computer. But the downtime is a necessary part of the schedule. Sometimes you just have to get away from those crazy saints, if only for a little bit.

But I dare not complain too much about it. Writing can be hard but it's worth it, and I'm lucky (or blessed, or privileged) to have the opportunity to write stuff that someone actually wants to publish. Lots of people are capable of writing books, but not everyone gets the opportunity. I try not to ever forget that.

If you have a question about writing -- the process, as a career, whatever -- please let me know. Ask a question in the comments and I'll answer it.

Happy Obligatory Romance Day!

Three weeks ago I shared about how I don't necessarily heart Valentine's Day, which -- if you keep up with these things -- is today. The article I mentioned working on back then has now been published at TrueU.org, so if you want to know even more about my dislike for the fake holiday (plus some timely thoughts on how to be romantic), feel free to click over there.

I'm especially pleased with the title: Romance on Valentine's Day Is Lame.

The End of the Strike

I've been keeping up with the Writer's Guild strike fairly closely over the last three months, primarily because 1) I'm a writer, though I'm not in the guild, and 2) because I seriously wanted to know when I would get to watch a new episode of "The Office."

Yay! Finally the strike is over.

That said, I was reminded (ironically) of the value of good writing when I saw this headline on Yahoo today:

Writers end strike; now they must write

That? Is some brilliant headline writing right there. It makes me wonder whether Yahoo! has a template for headlines touting the ends of strikes. Like a headline version of Mad Libs, I imagine it looks like this:

[Plural noun] end strike; now they must [verb form of previously mentioned noun]

So this is what you might get from Yahoo! headline writers at the close of other strikes:

• Meat packers end strike; now they must pack meat

• Financial planners end strike; now they must plan finances

• Welders end strike; now they must weld

• Slaughterhouse employees end strike; now they must slaughter

• Astronomers end strike; now they must, um...

(It doesn't work across the board.)

As If You Want to Know My Quirks

I got blog meme-tagged by my Interwebs friend Bryan, so I will hereby follow the rules and tell you some things about myself you didn't know you wanted to know.

The rules are as follows:

1. Link to the person that tagged you. (Done.)
2. Post the rules on your blog. (Done.)
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (Below.)
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. (Done.)
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged. (Forthcoming.)

--------------

So, here are six non-important things, habits, and/or quirks about me:

1. I love chips and salsa, but am very particular about it. I won't abide most kinds of processed salsa (the kind with preservatives). If I do eat the kind of salsa you can buy in a store, I have to chop it up into pieces so small you can't recognize individual ingredients. Preferred chips? Bite-sized Tostitos, which are round and therefore ideal for getting the last vestiges of salsa out of the bottom of the bowl. (This is well-nigh impossible with triangle-shaped chips.)

2. Rarely will I eat cookies, brownies, cake, pancakes, or waffles unless they are accompanied by 2% milk. Not skim milk. I have strong personal feelings against skim milk.

3. I can still recite the entirety of Kool Moe Dee's old school rap, "I Go to Work," from the 1989 album Knowledge Is King.

4. My arm (in a bright blue windbreaker) appears in the opening scene of "Wonderland," a Peter Berg-created series on ABC about a mental institution. They were filming it while we stood in line in Times Square at the TKTS booth. I show up for less than a second during a scene in which the lead characters walk past us. The series was pretty controversial and as a result it lasted less than one season. I'm pretty sure my lack of screen time had something to do with that.

5. I can talk in very respectable (albeit outlandish) Irish and Scottish accents. But I can't do any other accents because they all end up sounding Irish or Scottish.

6. The books on my bookshelves are organized in alphabetical order, by authors' last names, and divided between fiction and nonfiction. They have been this way since I was in high school. I have heard of artists and design-y types organizing their bookshelves by color, and am intrigued by this -- it looks pretty cool -- but haven't yet brought myself to do it. Because how would I ever find anything?

OK. Having fulfilled my duty, I am hereby tagging the following poor souls:

• The Longbrake
• Cara
• Matthew
• Trace and/or Becca
• Matt and/or Sally
• My brother
  

Pocket Guide to Sainthood (Preview #1)

I'm finishing up book #1 in my three-book Pocket Guide deal with Jossey-Bass: Pocket Guide to Sainthood. And there are so many good/weird/funny stories that it was a challenge to keep the book pocket-sized. It seriously could have been called Suitcase-Sized Guide to Sainthood, which has the alliteration thing going for it but isn't nearly as catchy.

Anyway, I think it would be fun to slowly leak out some of the content over the course of these, um, 18 long months until it hits shelves. So here's the first little snippet. Please comment if you can add to or otherwise improve the following:

(from the last chapter, which is a collection of miscellaneous lists)

Six Saints with Ridiculously Dull Names

1. St. Blandina, a 2nd century martyr

2. St. Faith, a 3rd century martyr

3. St. Chad, a 4th century bishop in Northumbria

4. St. Bean, an 11th century bishop in Scotland

5. St. Eric of Sweden, a 12th century king

6. St. John of God, a 16th century Portuguese friar

Seriously. Saint Chad? That's awesome.

I'll send a free signed copy of Pocket Guide to the Bible to the first person who can tell me where, in the history of pop culture, the phrase "ridiculously dull" has been used before in relation to a person's name. It's probably been used in multiple places, of course, but you have to tell me where I got it from. Hint: It was a TV show.

Put your answer in the comments thread and I'll get in touch with you.

FJM Unmasked

The sporting world has always been enamored of multitaskers. Bo Jackson (Baseball, Football), Joe Gibbs (Football, NASCAR), Bill Belichick (Football, Videography, Fashion). We learned this week that the world of sports blogging also has a few notable multitaskers.

And no, it's not Curt Schilling (Pitching, Blogging).

The anonymous guys at Fire Joe Morgan -- an always caustic, frequently vulgar, and consistently hilarious blog dedicated to the art of exposing the inanities of sportswriters and announcers -- have finally pulled back the curtain and revealed who they really are. Turns out Ken Tremendous isn't some hack pushing papers at Fremulon Insurance in Kansas. He's none other than Michael Schur, a former SNL scribe and now a writer and producer for "The Office." (He also plays the beloved Mose from Schrute Farms.) Junior is Alan Yang (a writer for "Last Call with Carson Daly") and dak is Dave King (also a writer for Daly).

Writing for TV and writing stats-obsessed baseball blogs are two pretty different things, but these guys excel at both (at least Schur does...I can't say I've watched a whole lot of Carson Daly). It brings up some big questions, though. Will FJM stay just as good now that its devoted fans know they're dealing with people in the entertainment biz? Will Schur and company continue to pile on lazy journalists and bad announcers now that they've dropped their masks of anonymity? Will the producers of "The Office" have to drop their dream of that Joe Morgan cameo? Will Mose and Dwight ever get into a wrestling match about the relative usefulness of VORP in determining a player's value? Stay tuned...

(Note: This post appeared yesterday at Bryan Allain's excellent sports & faith blog, Prayers for Blowouts.)

Church Hopping

I just finished participating in a bit of immersion journalism that's slated to appear in the May/June issue of Relevant Magazine. For those who aren't hip with the supersecret writing lingo, immersion journalism is the kind of writing where a journalist embeds himself (or herself) in an activity, event, or experience and then writes about it from a personal perspective. As opposed to the objective, detached perspective common to most types of journalism.

A good example of immersion journalism is the work of Barbara Ehrenreich. Her popular books Nickel and Dimed (2001) and Bait and Switch (2005) chronicle her experiences going undercover as, respectively, a member of the working poor and a middle-aged job hunter. She does all this stuff and then writes about what happens. Morgan Spurlock's Super-Size Me is a good example of immersion journalism wrapped into a documentary film.

I've always loved these kinds of books (and films) because they provide a window into places that are new -- places I've not been and situations I haven't experienced -- and getting to view those places through someone else's eyes is a good, vicarious exercise. When done with the right combination of opinion and reporting, the results are usually pretty educational. In the hands of a talented writer, it can be really entertaining, too.

Anyway (long introduction)...my foray into immersion writing wasn't as dramatic as going undercover for months at a time, or eating too many Big-Macs. What I did was simpler: I attended six different churches -- six different denominations -- over the course of six Sundays. The purpose was to describe what the services were like, how I reacted to them (based on my primarily Southern Baptist churchgoing experience), and what I experienced and learned in the process. The denominations I visited were pretty diverse: Assembly of God, Catholic, Episcopalian, Methodist, Presbyterian, and Southern Baptist (not my own church, of course).

It was quite enlightening. I consider myself pretty ecumenical when it comes to the various corners of Christianity, so I don't generally carry too many prejudices and misconceptions with me about, for example, Catholics or Pentecostals (at least, I try not to). I certainly have my personal preferences when it comes to worship formats and styles, though. And at this point in my life, they're beginning to shift.

I won't give away the farm on this one, but here are some random takeaways and teasers from the project:

1) It was a big stretch for me, personality-wise. I tend to be pretty introverted in new settings -- unless I'm on-stage speaking, which is weird -- so making myself attend an unknown church service by myself was a good personal challenge. It actually made me nervous.

2) Other than the fact that the project took me away from my family on Sunday mornings, I really enjoyed it. The variety of ways we worship is very interesting, to say the least.

3) I tried to go into it with an open mind, but a couple of denominations' services did nothing to dispel stereotypes.

4) I still have a big problem with pastors who wear toupees, and I'm sorry, but I'm not a big enough person to get over that prejudice. If you are trying to trick me into thinking you have real hair, when in fact you do not have real hair, then how am I supposed to trust anything else you say?

5) I've decided that the quality, subject, or length of the sermon has very little to do with how much I like or dislike a church. It's not as important as it used to be.

6) Other than the forced greet-your-neighbor times in a couple of church services, I was not approached or welcomed by anyone, on their own accord, until week six of the project. That's five church services, as a visitor -- a visitor with a winning smile and ruggedly handsome features, I might add -- without being spoken to.

7) If left to myself on a Sunday morning, with no other obligations or church services to attend, I can tell you exactly which church I would go to.

8) It's not the Baptist one.

This blog is still fairly new, but it attracts a few dozen people every day. I want to know who you are...and what is your denominational background and/or preference. So this is your opportunity to quit lurking and leave a comment.

Why I Observe Lent

By virtue of my background, membership, and my current church attendance (though, perhaps, not my theology), I am a Southern Baptist. Thanks to our Anabaptist heritage -- which threw out anything smacking of popishness back in the 17th century -- I knew nothing of the church calendar during my formative religious years. So Lent wasn't just de-emphasized. In my church, it didn't even exist. Easter was a big deal, and the church office was closed on Good Friday, but that was it. Ash Wednesday? Not a word. It passed by every year without notice.

I learned more of it as I hit my twenties and began to expand the boundaries of my faith. I read Catholic writers like Merton and Nouwen and Manning and Protestant writers like Yancey and Peterson and gradually I learned the significance of the Lenten season as a way to turn one's mind toward repentance, to practice self-denial, and to prepare for Easter.

It was my little sister, though, who really got me thinking about it. She shipped off to graduate school in Syracuse and began attending more liturgical churches. (As you might expect, Southern Baptists don't have too strong of a presence in upstate New York.) She came home one spring break and fastidiously got up every morning and made some green tea. Instead of coffee. We Boyetts are heavy coffee-drinkers, so this was news.

Micha had given up coffee for Lent. I was intrigued, and did some research. Fasting during Lent was a way to acknowledge (with great humility) the self-sacrifice of Christ on the cross. In observance of Lent, Christians gave up something they loved -- coffee, sweets, alcoholic beverages, shopping -- in order to a) practice a mild form of self-denial; b) replace it with something of benefit, like prayer or scripture reading; and c) remember Jesus and remain conscious of his death during the weeks leading up to Easter.

It sounded like a valuable spiritual practice (as opposed to being some scary works-based Catholic thing all good low-church evangelicals ought to ignore). And lately I'd been noticing how Easter kept sneaking up on me. Suddenly it was there, without warning...which never happens with Christmas. Christmas never sneaks up on us, because we begin preparing for it as soon as we get the dishes washed after the Thanksgiving meal. I realized that was the role the Lenten season played: it made me anticipate the coming of Easter, which made the celebration of the resurrection that much more meaningful. (What a dumb sentence that was. As if something I do can actually add meaning to the resurrection. But you know what I mean. I hope.)

So that year I decided to observe Lent by fasting from something I knew I would really miss: listening to my car's radio and CD player while driving. No NPR. No sports talk radio. No music. Just silence.

Guess what I did with that time? I prayed. For my kids, my wife, for my own spiritual journey. I found some good prayers of confession that fit the Lenten season and I prayed them. Sometimes, I just enjoyed the quiet. It was nice. And that year, Easter didn't sneak up on me. I knew when it was coming. I had been thinking about it and preparing for it for a month-and-a-half.

That's why I observe Lent. The self-denial is good for me, obviously, but more than that, it gets me ready for Easter. It shifts my attention to Jesus, and that's a good thing. It's something I need. It's something we all need, whether we're Catholics, Episcopalians, or casserole-eating Southern Baptists.

Links: Historical background of Lent (Christianity Today)

An excellent piece at Slate.com about the growing Protestant enthusiasm for Lent.

A comprehensive overview at CRI/Voice Institute.

Super Bowl

I'm not generally a big Super Bowl watcher. There have been a couple games over the past few years that I didn't watch at all. Two years ago, my wife and I were in in Las Vegas on Super Bowl weekend and we watched the game while making our way down the strip. So I saw various parts of the game on big screen TVs in the sports-betting corners of about six casinos. Kind of a fun way to do it, if you don't have any money on the line. And if you don't mind the smoke. Or the incessant ching-ching-ching-beep-boop of slot machines.

But this year I watched the entire game with friends while our kids played in a different room. And it was pretty nice. I actually got to, you know, watch. The game. And see the commercials. (A pretty uninspired crop this year. I thought the Pepsi/Justin Timberlake one was clever, despite the lowbrow JT-gets-hit-in-the-crotch comedy. (JT called it at the beginning: "It's childish and immature.") The Will Ferrell/Jackie Moon one made me laugh, too, mainly because it was, well, Will Ferrell in an old-school basketball uni talking about "delicious alcohol." Best one of the night was, by far, the balloon one for Coke. By the way, Slate agrees.)

It was a good game...to make an ridiculous understatement. Probably one of the best ever. Other than that, if you're just aching to know my additional thoughts on something related to the game -- especially regarding the mind-boggling catch made by David Tyree that set up the Giants' go-ahead touchdown -- you can read those thoughts here. Thanks to Bryan Allain at Prayers for Blowouts for letting me guest-blog about sports, which I don't do very often.

Which Bible? Part 8 (The Message)

This is the last full entry on the survey of translations from Pocket Guide to the Bible. If you missed the earlier installments, here they are up to this point:

• King James Version
• Revised Standard Version
• Jerusalem Bible
• New American Bible
• The Living Bible
• New International Version
• New King James Version

Now, on to one of the most controversial versions of the Bible, a paraphrase-in-the-vernacular that people either love with a passion or hate with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.

The Message

Complete version first published in: 2002, by NavPress

Translation style: Paraphrase

Quick description: A contemporary paraphrase from the original languages by Eugene H. Peterson, a prolific pastor, scholar, and author with impeccable credentials in the evangelical world. It’s originally written to recapture the informal “street language” of the New Testament, resulting in a rhythm and flavor completely different from any other Bible translation.

Why you should read it: It’s in common, readable English but doesn’t sound at all like a children’s Bible. Plus, you get occasional fun idiomatic expressions like this: “They traded the glory of God…for cheap figurines you can buy at any roadside stand” (Romans 1:23).

Not so fast: Some think The Message is an appalling distortion of God’s Word, riddled with deletions, alterations, and additions to the original text. Then again, most of these same naysayers also believe the NIV to be personally endorsed by Satan.

Example:
“No carved gods of any size, shape, or form of anything whatever, whether of things that fly or walk or swim.” (Exodus 20:4)

“This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life.” (John 3:16)

I Win! I Win!

If you voted, you probably received an email to this effect. If you didn't vote, you probably don't care anyway.

But the results of the ChangeEffect contest are in and my story about Paw-Paw was the big winner. Chicago, here I come.

Here's a link to the announcement at ChangeEffect.

If you voted for me, told others to vote for me, or just read the story, thank you. I appreciate it very much. Never underestimate the power of a good story. Or the power of knowing lots of people. Or the power of that forward button in your email application.

Thanks again.