Have you ever had one of those moments when God takes your breath away? I'm talking whoa-baby-I-can't-believe-God-did-that kind of experiences? Well, I had one yesterday.
I was sitting at my desk, preparing for the start of the semester tomorrow (yes, I do have a day job), when a pang of self-pity whapped me upside the head. You see, there's a particular publisher I'm interested in and I knew that in the beginning of January they were about to launch a new e-pub line. However, unless your agent submits, there's no chance in bleepity-bleep that an author can get noticed. I know. I checked. I visited their website and everything.
And my agent happens to be on maternity leave.
So I gave it over to God immediately. I told Him that I knew He was more than able to accomplish His will with my writing, whether my agent was preoccupied with a sweet little baby or not. Then I went about my business.
Lo and behold (cue angelic background music), within a half hour I received an email from the acquisitions editor of that very line with that very publisher. That's not only unheard of, it's a miracle! She'd just happened to stumble across my blog (yep, this one) and I piqued her interest. Would I want to send her a sample of my writing?
Honestly, I know this is a small feat for a God big enough to create the universe, but that He cares enough to do the little things is mind blowing.
Whether I land a contract with this publisher or not suddenly doesn't seem as earth stopping as the fact that the Earth Creator delights in the affairs of man...and little ol' me.
I hear voices. Loud. Incessant. And very real. Which basically gives me two options: choke back massive amounts of Prozac or write fiction. I chose the latter. Way cheaper. I've been writing since I discovered blank wall space and Crayolas. I seek to glorify God in all that I write...except for that graffiti phase I went through as a teenager. Oops. Did I say that out loud?