Providential Ink by Wendy L. Macdonald

Since writing the rough drafts for several mystery romance manuscripts, I’ve been reminded of the movie: Inkheart. Characters came to life when pages of the book were read aloud. My stories were inspired by some events that startled me and wouldn’t leave my thoughts. I guess you could say it was my way of seeing justice served; I made sure the villains got caught. But I didn’t expect a bunch of strange things to happen in real life that were similar to what I wrote in my novels. Now I’m nervous to keep working on them. 

Will people think everything I wrote was based on real life? 
 
I’ve decided that perhaps Providence and not an Inkheart phenomenon was at work. Maybe the reason why my writing seemed prophetic was because God likes the story and wanted to help me out with editing by giving me more personal experiences to beef up the show-and-not-tell aspects of it. Trust me, I won't tell an agent or publisher this (Eyes will roll for sure.). However, I will be able to write much deeper now. I will be able to show how hard the trials were for the characters. I will also be able to demonstrate how delicious the victories were. 

Either way, I’m way too curious not to keep writing. I want to see how my characters handle the tough stuff I’ll be subjecting them too. I want to see their hearts pound, break, and soften. I want to witness their growth and transformations. I want to see where this story takes them—and me.

I’m nosey-to-know if you’ve ever written something uncannily similar to future events.

Inkwell Blessings ~ Wendy Mac

 
 

The Truth Behind the Fiction by Connie Mae Inglis

I have been working on a novel titled Rewriting Adam for the past three years. Through a series of unusual circumstances, my protagonist finds himself helping an archaeologist survey an area in northern Myanmar. Their local guide is a young man who is Shatikha*, a minority language group from that area, and also the language group that my husband and I are working in, translating the Bible into their language. For me, it made sense to have my novel set in that area of the world where we lived for 13 years.

Every culture has its own worldview, beliefs, and legends, so I decided to incorporate some of these stories into my novel. In one of my chapters, my protagonist discovers what the Shatikha believe about ghosts. The ghost stories told in this chapter are either true first-account happenings, or are true stories told by trusted Shatikha sources. My husband gathered these stories himself as part of his cultural study. So, knowing these stories existed, I couldn’t help but incorporate them into my novel. It seemed the perfect way to include my interest in the strange and weird and my love for speculative fiction.

And even though I was writing a novel, I also wanted to incorporate my love of poetry into my writing. Therefore, each chapter begins with my own work of poetry that foreshadows events in the chapter. For the chapter about Shatikha ghosts, I decided to write a poem based on Edgar Allan Poe’s poem, “The Raven.” And even though my poem is only the length of one stanza of Poe’s poem, I tried to write so that the reader would become uncomfortable—to shift uneasily in their chair, as if something scary was about to happen. I know I could never reach Poe’s standard with just one stanza, but I wanted it to be just enough to prepare the reader for what was to come.

Here is the poem:

Once upon a jungle pathway, bamboo heavy, blocking sun’s ray,

Traveller needing rest and beckoning home hearth, presses t’ward the call,

Danger comes so unsuspecting, in human form, veiled presenting,

    Shadowed stalking unrelenting, weary traveller trapped to fall,

Danger bites, addiction’s power, death feeds slowly from the fall—

            Fear the ghost. Fear—one and all.

That was a fun poem to write. Bottom line, though, is this: The real story behind the story will always be the Shatikha people themselves--how God has redeemed them and given them the divine power to demolish strongholds (2 Cor. 10:3-5). They no longer need to be afraid of ghosts or the shaman or any evil spirits. In Jesus, they have the freedom to share their ghost stories without fear. And that, dear friends, is Truth—and the most beautiful story of all.

*pseudonym

Shatikha script: book heading for the book of Acts, literally translated "The Story About What the Apostles Did." 

Behind the Writing of Amee's Story - Carol Harrison

The story behind the writing of my first published piece which is a memoir called, Amee's Story, happened over many years. Walk with me down memory lane to see the process involved to get to the point of writing let alone publication.  

I loved English including the writing assignments back in high school, more years ago than I might care to remember. My final grade twelve project, a short story, received a very good mark which has been lost to time. In my mind's eye I can still vividly see the teacher's last remark at the end of the piece, "You have an unrealistic viewpoint." I told no one about the comment or asked what it really meant. I simply felt it negated the great mark and maybe I could not or should not write.

My English professor, in first year university, added to my inner negative voice with a failing grade on the first essay assignment. The big red circle around the number 40 stared at me. The comment beside it read, "You didn't answer the question!" Beating back the tears and humiliation, I chose to make an appointment with him to discover what I needed to learn in order to succeed. His answer, "You're in university. You should just know." left me uncertain about how to proceed.

My plan included regurgitating what the professor spouted in class. It helped me pass the class but did not teach me anything constructive. I promised myself I would write enough to pass my classes but never write for anyone else to read. The joy of writing, the longing to put ideas on paper could not enter into my thinking. I was not a writer!

Years later my husband began pestering me to write about the journey with our youngest daughter after her stroke at birth. I had continued to write in journals, especially details of everyday life with the challenges of raising a daughter with special needs. I intended to keep the promise I made to myself to never write for others to read, including my husband and family. Even my dear hubby had no idea of how much I used to enjoy writing. My answer to his periodic requests remained the same, "I can't! I am not a writer!"

This dance around writing this story that needed telling continued for years. Our daughter, Amee, started to plead with me to tell her story so others would understand. The refusals became harder but continued to escape my lips. I did not consider this might be the time God needed to do some alterations in my attitude.

Hubby and daughter began to wear down the wall of resistance built around my heart. I sat at the computer and attempted to start this on going story. I hit delete. After a few weeks I tried again with the same results. Fast forward through many starts and deletes. To combat the inadequacy and the writing going nowhere, I opted to spend time sorting all the reports and notes. I organized everything chronologically, read every piece of information and researched a few terms to make sure I still understood them.

 With nothing left to sort, I began again but did not hit delete. One chapter and then two appeared on the screen before the mental block of how to continue surfaced. I wanted to give up. Who was I to think I could write? Why did my loved ones push me so hard?

A friend saw a poster for a Christian Writers conference in Saskatoon and urged me to attend. You can only imagine all the excuses which came out of my mouth. But God had a plan. My friend, husband and daughter would not let me give up. They encouraged, cajoled, pushed, prayed and did whatever they felt might work on any given day.

I entered that conference room with heart racing and beads of sweat popping out on my brow. Yet people welcomed me. I met some amazing people from Inscribe like Marcia Laycock and Jan Dick. I found myself enjoying the day. I added to the bravery and went to a monthly meeting of His Imprint and continued to go back each month to listen to others read their works in progress, hear encouraging words and helpful hints.

It took a few more months of being stuck with my writing until I took that first chapter and read part of it out loud to other more experienced, published authors. I needed help. I remember Bonnie Grove being very quiet and not offering suggestions. After the meeting I cornered her and asked for her help. She asked me several questions and then bluntly told me to cut a number of things and start at a different spot. After delivering her thoughts she walked away.

I must admit I had thoughts running through my head like, "Who does she think she is? It's my story." which turned to, "Carol you asked her what she thought and told her to be honest. You're stuck. What can it hurt to try it her way."

The next time I sat at my computer I opened a new file and began in the spot Bonnie suggested. I tightened up the writing making sure only pertinent words and information made it to the page. This unstuck my writing and it began to flow from chapter to chapter. It remained my story, only done in a way to grab the reader's attention.

Thank you Bonnie. Thank you to each person who I met at the conference and the His Imprint group. You encouraged, taught, critiqued and helped me move from my refusal to even try to thinking I might be able to.

It took several years of work from those first weeks of sorting material and research until the book was ready for more edits, cover design and publication in January 2010. God has used the story in places I could not imagine, touched lives I may never know about and allowed me to share one glimpse for others that the God of the Bible is still God today. He had a plan for me which I resisted for a long time. He had a plan for the book, Amee's Story which goes beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Things do not always look like what we expect but I am glad I finally listened and let God lead the way into this new venture.

Carol Harrison, B.Ed. from Saskatoon, has published one book, Amee’s Story, and has short stories in fifteen anthologies including eight Chicken Soup for the Soul books and two of Susan King’s Short and Sweet books. She has a passion for sharing stories from real-life experiences and God’s Word to help others find a glimmer of hope.

Beginnings by Sharon Espeseth

Caleb Turned Out Just Fine

One of my stories had its beginnings in a real-life entry into the world. This was the birth of Caleb, the third grandson for Hank and me. Caleb was the third child of our third adopted child and I'd been invited to his birth-day party--in the delivery room. Hank dropped Jenny and I off at the Grey Nuns Hospital for her "induction" ceremony.

After a morning of observation and I.V., Jenny was told we could go home, go shopping, or whatever we, or she, wanted while we waited for her contractions to come closer together. When Jenny mentioned to the nurse that not all of her contractions had registered on the machine, the nurse explained that this was normal. 

"My last baby came early," Jenny added.

"You certainly can stay, if you're concerned," the nurse told her. 

Jenny and I exchanged a glance. "It's up to you, Jenny," I told her. "Remember, I'm the new kid on this block." (Reminder to reader: All three of our children had been adopted.) Hank came to pick us up and take us back to Jenny and Rob's home, which was a 25-minute drive from the Grey Nuns. That is where most of the family was hanging out and babysitting the rest of the grandkids.

I'll leave you to guess what happened from there, but I called this story, "Special Gift, Special Delivery." My version of the story was published in Western Producer on October 26, 2006 under the headline, "Experience in barn makes baby's quick debut easier." And I was not the experienced one!

"Special Gift, Special Delivery" was later published in the January-February, 2009 issue of Celebrate Life, which is the flagship magazine of the American Life League. I had entertained, or inspired, readers of two magazines with two different readerships and I had also received a check from each of the publishers.

I am reluctant to retell the whole story, because I may do a rewrite for another publication, possibly an anthology with themes related to adoption, pro-life, farming, parenting, grandparenting. . .