What'll It Be, Sir/Ma'am?

By Keith N Fisher

With all the talk on this blog lately, about asking for God’s help in our writing, My thoughts were directed to the image of a drive up window. A garbled voice comes over the speaker and asks, “May I help you?”

Or sitting at the counter in a dinner, and a tough old man wearing a white T-shirt with rolled up sleeves, wipes the counter with a moist rag and asks, “What’ll it be?”

The truth is, Our Heavenly Father is waiting for us to ask. He metaphorically stands at the door and knocks. He wants us to come to Him. He blesses us every minute, but sometimes we don’t recognize those blessings. Sometimes, we forget to thank Him, and sometimes the answer is no.

I concur with my fellow bloggers. God will, and does help us in our writing. I’ve noticed that if my motives are positive, my writing can be better than my abilities. If my motives are selfish, I’m left to my own wisdom and talent. The writing is not as good and I suffer from discouragement and doubt.

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

Another thing on my mind today, is my blog punctuality. You might’ve noticed I’ve been late posting for the past few weeks. I’m sorry, but I’m working at a more physical job and I’m too exhausted to write most nights. I’m getting more used to it though, and I promise I’ll be back on Saturday mornings soon.

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

Check out my review of Alma the Younger, by H B Moore on my Writer’s Eyes blog.

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

On a final note, have you ever seen a book recycling operation? I have occasion to work with thousands of books each day, old and new. The books come to us from people who are finished with them. Some of the books are sold at severely discounted prices. Others are loaded into four feet square bins to send to the paper-recycling place.

Everyday, I gaze into the bins and think of the character in the Twilight Zone episode, who finally gets a chance to read every book in the library but he breaks his glasses and cannot read. See it in three parts, here. I also, think of each book as somebody’s baby.

I gaze at 110,592 cubic inches of the printed word, other writer’s children, and I’m sad. Then I pick up one of those children wishing I had the time to read. I think of all the lives that book probably touched, how many paper products it will be part of, and I feel happy to be part of the circle of life.

It still saddens me, however, when I see a book written by a friend of mine, sitting in the pile. Then, I realize it’s an indication of how the book sold. You should see all the copies of Twilight.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.