Last week, I asked readers of my blog to pray for me while I went away for a few days to do extensive work on my next book.
Many of you contacted me via text, email, Twitter, or Facebook, to let me know that you were praying for me. A few of you wrote more than once last weekend to assure me of your daily intercession. Thank you. The knowledge that there were people interceding for me was a source of great encouragement.
Now that I’m on this side of those four days of extensive writing, my feelings of gratitude just about bowl me over. Gratitude to those of you who read what I write, gratitude to my publisher for taking a risk on a new book, but more importantly, gratitude to God for giving me this gift and granting me the joy of using it.
At the outset of this writing assignment, I wanted to be both mentally and spiritually prepared. I spent several weeks collecting ideas and stories and putting them in “buckets” for each chapter. This practice is vital if you want to ‘grease the tracks’ so your train of thought can move smoothly from your mind to the page.
It was also a period of time in which I had to be especially sensitive to God’s guidance. Why did He put this article in front of me while in this stage? Why did I just have that conversation with a close friend about a subject I will address in the book? How is it that I just came across this podcast, or that tweet, or this Bible passage?
It’s here that the mental and spiritual aspects of preparing to write a book start to converge, and I have a hard time distinguishing between the two. You get “goose bumps” as you realize that God is directing you, speaking to you through His Word and His people, guiding you to stories and examples that will make their way into the book and best illustrate His truth.
And then, there’s the “getting away” to write. Stephen King’s memorable book on writing mentions the need for deep concentration — it’s just you and the blank page, for hours on end. That’s where the “magic” happens, and he’s right. That’s why I’ve never been able to write a book without spending at least a few full days that were completely devoted to the project.
I remember inhabiting the windowless prayer room of the church I was serving in when I wrote much of Holy Subversion. I remember the table I sat at and which window I was next to at Boyce Library at Southern Seminary where I wrote and edited the bulk of Counterfeit Gospels. The fictional setting for my “theology in story” of Clear Winter Nights was the actual house my great aunt lived in, and I stayed there for three days while that story came together.
For this book, I splurged. I found a cheap Southwest flight from Nashville to the Gulf Coast, stayed at a friend’s condo on the beach by myself, and wrote for three and a half days straight. It was glorious. And tiring.
I wanted this to not only be a “work weekend” but also a spiritual haven, where my mind would be on fire but my soul would be at rest. I vowed not to turn on the television at all while I was there. I chose not to listen to any podcasts or read any blogs. I put my phone on Do Not Disturb. I wanted to hear God’s voice over the cacophony of our society’s incessant chatter, and so I filled those days with Scripture reading, prayer, and of course, writing.
Stripping away all those distractions and relying on the preparation I’d done ahead of time made it easy to write. On Day 1, I wrote two chapters. Day 2 gave me another three chapters: one in the morning, the afternoon, and at night. Day 3 mirrored Day 2. And on the fourth morning, I finished a first draft of the final chapter.
I loved the quiet rhythm of those days. Getting up early, eating breakfast, drinking some tea while I prayed and meditated on Scripture, and then taking periodic breaks to walk on the beach – to decompress and consider what I would write next.
Before I got there, I worried that my brain would see “beach” and think “Vacation! Time to relax!” That didn’t happen. I now know that it’s not the “beach” that relaxes me, but being with family at the beach. Because I was alone for four days (aside from FaceTiming with Corina and the kids), I had nothing else to do but work, work, work.
(OK, there was an embarrassing moment when I had to call my friend who owns the condo because, in a moment of senility, I lost the key and couldn’t get back in. Don’t judge. My brain was spent.)
The draft I completed is not ready for an outside editor yet. I still have a ton of work to do, and I will probably spend the next three months slowly combing through the manuscript, chopping it up, smoothing it out, making it more readable. It wouldn’t be accurate to say I went away for a weekend and wrote a book. It’s more like I gathered and arranged all the ingredients of a book and put them into a big pot of stew. The cooking and the stirring and the seasoning and the tasting come next.
My blog output may be a little slower in the weeks to come, simply because so much of my attention is now devoted to this new book. I can’t wait to share it with you. Actually, I can. I’d be embarrassed for you to see it in its current state. But I’m excited to think about the final product (what I hope it will be, at least), and it’s gratifying to know that many of your prayers have already gone into the book.
I pray the wisdom in it blesses you as much as your thoughtfulness has blessed me.
