Thoughtful About . . . Contests and Awards

by Roseanna White | May 3, 2016 | Thoughtful Thursdays

My Monday started out pretty normal–I was editing Giver of Wonders, which made me two minutes late to get our homeschool day started. Had a load of laundry in. As soon as morning classes were done, I ran to get dressed, get the garbage down to the end of the driveway, and then switched out the laundry.

Only after that did I bother slipping over to my computer. There was a message flashing for my attention on Facebook, from a writing friend (she will remain anonymous for the protection of her cat, tee hee hee). It said:

Congratulations on your Christy nomination for The Lost Heiress!!!!!!!! Dani Pettrey just shared this and I scared my cat squealing so loud…

My oh-so-eloquent reply:

My WHAT?!

I soon saw for myself.

Needless to say, I got very little accomplished after that. I answered a lot of messages and comments and emails.

And I had plenty of time to think.

I’ve blogged before about contests and the twisty paths to our dreams. I wrote the post in 2012, and it’s mostly held true for me. I’ve had to keep a constant rein on my emotions when it comes to contests, because I’m a competitive person given to pride, and I do NOT want to ever make winning an award my goal in  my writing life. In 2012 I stated that God hadn’t called me to give up contests.

Here’s how that’s progressed.

First, He made it clear it was something I shouldn’t put my money into, as I had other places that needed it more. I only entered when my publisher offered to pay for it.

Next, He made it clear that I could only enter this one particular book one year, for this one particular reason.

This year, He said, Do you really need that?

And I said, “No. I don’t. I’m done entering contests. If ever you want me to have anything to do with another one, Lord, it’ll have to be one that someone else nominates me for.”

You see, I’d asked my agent about them, and she gave me her wise experience–that they don’t boost sales; they’re largely just bragging rights. And lemme just tell you, I do NOT need to slip into bragging, LOL. I know how cranky I get when finalist lists are published, even when I didn’t enter the contest. (No, that’s not pretty. Which is why I grant myself exactly two seconds to be not-pretty about it, confess my not-pretty to my best friend who understands completely, and then congratulate the finalists and move on. I really am happy for my friends who final–really, really, really. It always just takes me a second to remember that I’m not pursuing that, because it makes me not-pretty.)

So here I am on the Tuesday following the announcement of the Christy Award nominations. I have that beautiful meme with the award seal and my book beside some other truly fabulous books. And I reread my post from 2012, and I think, “How do I feel about contests today?”

Well, in some ways no different at all. The fact remains that even if I win, it’s not going to change anything. Books aren’t going to fly off shelves. My old mini van isn’t going to morph into a limousine. My kids certainly aren’t going to stop asking me to make their lunch or scowling at me when I tell them to do their schoolwork. My life won’t change in the slightest, except that, if I won, I would get to put Award-winning author of The Lost Heiress before my name.

But a few new thoughts have surfaced.

First and foremost, I am so honored that my publisher entered my book. Pubs don’t tell authors who they enter and who they don’t, for obvious reasons. So as an author, we can’t even know if we’re under consideration until that list comes out, and then we only know if we’re on it. Not being on it could mean we just didn’t make the cut, or it could mean our publisher didn’t submit it.

Bethany House submitted it. They invested money and faith in me. That . . . that right there means so much. It humbles me. And it makes me smile. I’m so incredibly blessed to be working for this company, to be on my second series with them.

Next thought–I love this industry. Not because of the companies or the awards or the anything–I love the people. Because within minutes, Tamera Alexander had emailed me and Jody Hedlund and Elizabeth Camden to congratulate us all, encourage us all, and say what an honor it is to be on the list with us.

Insert Roseanna laughing, because we all know that if anyone’s honored to be on the list with anyone else… 😉 Seriously, these ladies rank as some of my favorite authors. And even more so now, as we exchanged a few emails. There was no sense of competition. Just a comradeship. A sense of “We’re in this together, and let’s celebrate getting this far together!”

What a beautiful thing. What beautiful people.

Am I happy? Sure. It’s an amazing surprise to get on a Monday morning. But that’s all it is. A happy surprise. An afternoon with an extra piece of chocolate and a lot of comment-answering to gobble up my time. It doesn’t change my book. It doesn’t change me. We’re both still what we were before that list came out. And my goal is still, always, to write to win hearts, not awards. To follow His call.

I’m probing deep inside now, making sure that I really, honestly don’t care if I win or lose. Because in the past, I haven’t been quite okay. Mostly okay. But there’s always been a pang. And I guess we’ll see if that pang is still there when the winner is announced in June. But right now…right now I feel free of that. I’m just grateful. Just honored. And just as certain as ever that it doesn’t matter. Not the award or the potential for it.

But there is something that matters in all this.

There is Bethany House, who believe in me. There are readers who were judges, who saw value in a story into which I poured 20 years of my heart. There are Tammy and Jody and Dorothy, who are amazing women I get to sit beside at this virtual table. There are friends and readers who took the time to get in touch with me yesterday to offer their congratulations.

And there is, always, my Lord. Who shows me that as with everything else in life, the real reward is in the people. The relationships. Never in the gold seal.

Thoughtful About . . . Indulgence and Forgiveness

by Roseanna White | Apr 28, 2016 | Thoughtful Thursdays

I got up this morning and realized it was Thursday. Time to get thoughtful. I opened my blog. Drew up a clean post. And sat. Staring. Waiting for inspiration to strike. Sometimes I know days or weeks in advance what I want to write about on Thursdays. Sometimes I even have my posts written on Sundays.

Today . . . not so much. =)

So I opened up my next project–editing Giver of Wonders, which will release November 1. And I started to read.

In chapter 2, a single line jumped out at me.

I know I wrote those words, but I frankly didn’t remember them. As I read them, though . . . it’s a commentary, isn’t it, on our culture today? It’s a commentary, too often, on our churches. On our very lives.


I decided to hop over to the dictionary to see what the technical differences are.

INDULGENCE:

6.

Roman Catholic Church. a partial remission of the temporal punishment, especially purgatorial atonement, that is still due for a sin or sins after absolution.

FORGIVENESS:
the state or act of:

5.
to cancel an indebtedness or liability of 
 Some of the same words are used in those definitions, it’s true. But there are some vital differences, aren’t there? Indulgence is giving in to a person; forgiveness is giving up the account of their wrong.


Indulgence is saying “It’s okay that you sin.” or “It’s not a sin.”
Forgiveness is saying, “You sinned. But the account has been paid.”


We live in a very “tolerant” society, which means one that makes an art of indulgence. Funny, isn’t it, how that renders forgiveness, too often, powerless? Because if people have been told all their lives that it’s okay, that it’s not wrong, that we’re entitled to live our lives as we see fit so long as we don’t hurt anyone else . . . then how can they value the forgiveness of those sins they’ve been taught aren’t sins?


One of the greatest gifts ever given to man–cheapened. Our society has filled up on the junk food of indulgence, and now we don’t have the stomach for the real feast: forgiveness. We’ve embraced the look of a shirt with stains rather than taking the time and putting out the effort to scrub them clean.


Just one little line from a scene I added in at the last minute when wrapping up my first draft–but I’m going to be pondering that one . . . and wondering where, in my life, in my world, I’m substituting indulgence when really I ought to be doing the hard work and forgiving–or seeking forgiveness.

Thoughtful About . . . To Each His Own

by Roseanna White | Apr 14, 2016 | Thoughtful Thursdays

It’s no secret that there are a lot of different types of people in the world. That we all have different personalities. Different outlooks. That there introverts and extroverts and whole personality-naming-systems with letters to label each part of your personality.

Yet we all expect others to be like us. Ever notice that?

It’s not that we don’t recognize people are different. It’s just that when it comes to handling situations . . . when it comes to dealing with grief . . . when it comes to solving problems . . . we cannot fathom that our way is, not just the best way, but the only way.

For instance. I’m not a neat-freak. I am capable of cleaning, and cleaning well. But I do not feel a daily drive to do this. I feel a daily drive to reach a certain word-count goal. I feel a daily drive to pray with my children. I feel a daily drive to do a certain amount of design work. I feel a daily drive to spend time with my husband. Housework slides. Which means that occasionally it gets to the point where I just can’t handle it anymore and I get a bit snappy with the rest of my family for never picking up, and I go on a cleaning rampage. That doesn’t happen often. More often is that once a week I set aside time to take care of the whole house at once.

Those in my family who have the neat-freak drive have tried to tell me that my house would be more manageable if I cleaned, say, twenty minutes every day. And I’m sure that, objectively, this is true. But the thought of finding twenty minutes every day to clean, when I’m going without a pause from 5:30 in the morning until 9:00 at night, Stresses. Me. Out. And the daily stress of, “Ah, man, when am I going to pick up??” adds up, for me, to more stress than that of finding one day a week to do it. Because that’s how I am. It’s who I am. Is it right or wrong? I’m going to go with no. I don’t think my cleaning schedule or lack thereof constitutes a moral dilemma.

And with something like cleaning, most people will shrug their shoulders and say, “Whatever works for you. To each his own.”

But when it comes to more serious topics, people are less likely to say that. As I’ve watched two different people grieve in two very different ways over the last couple months, though, I can’t help but think that it’s about the serious things that we ought to be more willing to understand that people are different.

A lady in my church recently lost a husband. And she knew herself well enough to know what she needed to do after this: establish her schedule and get out of the house. This has helped her cope with the loss. She has good days and bad days, and that’s to be expected. But she’s doing what she needs to do.

My mother-in-law is a very different type of person. When her father passed away, to whom she’d been the sole caretaker for years, everyone was ready with the same advice: “Tell her to get out.”

But to my MIL, getting out is not her feel-better thing. Getting out can cause her stress. As long as I’ve known her, she’s been more likely to want to stay home than to get out. So while, yes, taking my daughter to ballet is something she has volunteered to do on those days she needs a break from her house, what ministers to her more is something like working in her garden.

And that’s okay.

For some of us, people help. For some of us, people hurt.

But if everyone were shouting at my MIL “GET OUT OF THE HOUSE! That’s what you need!” how do you think that would make her feel? Pressured. Frustrated. Like a failure. She’d start wondering if she’s wrong to not want to go out. Which would just upset her more.

Is that healthy? Is that what anyone would be trying to achieve by giving her that advice?

Er, no.

What it comes down to is that there’s no right way to handle emotions–because emotions are different for all of us. My instinct is not to call someone when I’m having a problem. My instinct is not to cry when things go wrong. My instinct is not to throw myself into a crowd when I’m upset. Because when I do those things, they make it worse.

I try, in my writing, to examine this now and again. And when we’re engrossed in the pages of someone else’s story, we can see it. Because we know their thoughts. In life, we don’t have that advantage.

So before I judge anyone for the way they handle their problems, their emotions, their griefs, their joys, I need to stop. I need to consider who they are. I need to wonder what they need. And rather than trying to force them into my mold . . . I need to instead ask, “How can I help them where they are? How they are?”

Sometimes that means joining them at lunch at a restaurant. And sometimes it means coming alongside them in the garden.

And sometimes it means letting them know you’re praying and letting them quietly do the same.