This is officially a love letter. Mine to you. Yesterday, I was videoing for a little upcoming book trailer for Confessions of a Christian Mystic - and what I thought most about was you.
About how important you are to me individually. It seems like when a newsletter goes out that it's a blanket of info meant for a mass group of people. But that's not the way I see you. I think of you individually reading these words, finding your way to Confessions, and how the book will personally speak to your heart.
When I was writing the book I thought I can either tell stories or I can tell the truth. I chose the truth. By that I meant - as book reviewer, Tina Chambers said in her book review for Chapter 16 wrote, "River Jordan pulls no punches with new spiritual memoir." You can read the review entirely here.
That's what I was thinking in another kind of way. I thought - life is short. No matter how long it is, it's short. And I only have this little bit of time to say what it is that I have left to say. Should I live to be 100 years old there is only now, this small, beautiful shadow to step into and out of and then we move to the beyond. I wanted to say the most important words I had to offer in those years. This was this moment.
Confessions is filled with those words. Stories of growing up very southern in the rural landscape of what you might call a Southern Gothic backdrop of family and a foreground of dirt, lighting, heat, fireflies, Gulf Waters, and Palm trees. My time was divided between the salty, white sands of the beach and the backwoods of my grandparents. It was as perfect for a little girl born to write as it could be. When I was Eleven years old my mother joined the Episcopal Church. It had quiet, and candles and reverence and a holy hush. And, it too - was as perfect for a little writer girl as anything could be.
The result of all of those experiences, of family and love, writing and living and loving, of spiritual experiences and midnight road trips are captured in this little book. I hope you discover a local copy soon at your local Indie store or where ever you buy books. You can preorder copies today here at a variety of links. Tomorrow is the BIG LAUNCH DAY WHEN IT OFFICIALLY GOES ON SALE. Your pre-orders help this writer TREMENDOUSLY. Because it lets the publisher know at Faith Words/Hachette to keep printing those books. :)
Here are a few shots from our great sneak peek evening event at Parnassus Books In Nashville. I was awed and a little dumbstruck by the fact that the great, Internally loved, awe-inspiring author Ann Patchett introduced me for the event. In what reality - in what universe does that happen??? Not in mind but apparently I am now living on the fringe of a new reality.
If you read and love Confessions of a Christian Mystic - please, tell someone and share the news. This is a little genre-busting surprise of a book. It's hard to put into any particular genre. Because of that- it's unique, it's special in a myriad ways but it's also difficult to review, to find easy lines for it to fit into so that it can be promoted and reviewed. I promise you - it will come down to you, dear reader, to let the world know about it. Confessions is no longer my baby, she's gone out into the world and fallen into your sweet hands.
Please check my events page for the big Confessions Road Trip. And, check back in as events are being weekly. I do so hope to be in your neighborhood and to see you, meet you, visit with you on the road for a great time of stories and sharing.
I am making effort to get this to you before I hit the road this morning for Jackson, MS to be with that great group of readers and Pulpwood Queen girls the BB Queens of Jackson for tomorrows official On sale day launch at April 2nd at Lemuria Books. Wednesday, I'll be at Square Books in Oxford. This weekend, April 6 I'll be over Georgia way at Foxtale Book Shoppe in Woodstock then down to Florida to be in my hometown of Panama City, FL at St. Andrews Coffee House in Conversation with the great writer and journalist, Tony Simmons on Thursday April 11 as we talk about writing, the power of story and how Hurricane Michael changed the face of our beloved city but didn't crush the spirit of the people there I know and love. Saturday afternoon I'll be at the incredible Sundog Books at Seaside, Fl April 13 and then off the next week to Page and Palette April 16 in Fairhope, AL. Then headed to New Orleans to visit Garden District Book Shop on April 18.
When a break arrises I want to send you a note on the books I'm reading, what wine I discovered I've enjoyed, my latest movie binges and more. So please forgive me for the short, fast commercial but I don't want to miss getting the word out to you on Launch Day. Also, in that effort this little missive will be filled with typos and errors. Please forgive.
Wishing you Blessings in your life in all you do this day and always. Praying for your every peace in the midst of the magic of your life. In all its turmoils and triumphs. May true love find you and keep you at every turn. And may all the moments you live each day be touched by that special something that lets you know you are alive for a reason.
Sending you much love!
Reflections during Lent in Real Time.
The baby has arrived! Ginger called me to the back of Parnassus Books today and said - Hey, River - take a look at this!
The surprise were the boxes hidden away of Confessions of a Christian Mystic which OFFICIALLY arrives April 2. There is a sneak preview party at Parnassus Books March 29 at 6:30 and books will be available.
Me being laden with allergies that do NOT belong to me. I don't know whose allergies these are but I don't want them. This is the kind of thing people go to the doctor to get a shot. I have never been that person but I am the proud owner of a new box of Allegra because that generic stuff I took this am did NOTHING! Tomorrow I have high hopes for a different kind of day.
In the meantime - Catherine was kind enough to let me grab her and ask, Will you hold my book? And she did! And I am dancing for joy - on the inside - because today I was more like . . . a slug. That's how I'd describe me. A slug. BUT ---
Confessions of a Christian Mystic is BEAUTIFUL. I must give kudos to Hachette/Faith Words for doing an OUTSTANDING job and from someone who loves books, printing, publishing, first editions - Oh, MY. I'm a little bit over the moon about.
Mama said - It's bigger than I thought it would be. (Insert your favorite emogi here. ) For me - it was the moment where you are just glad that the baby is healthy. And then you look at the baby and decide it's the most beautiful baby in the world. Because that's the way Mother's are. All babies are the most beautiful. It's creation and new life and glory be.
And - here's another thing. You would be amazed at the difference between an advanced reader copy known as an ARC in the business and holding the REAL DEAL. It's like holding a baby doll and someone saying - this is kinda, like gonna be like your baby. But then the real thing arrives and realize, No, that was nothing like holding the real thing at all.
I started reading Confessions and was surprised at the words. The stories. The honesty. The revelation. The passion. The truth. And, yes, the beauty of it. It is an odd, little quirky work about growing up a little southern gothic girl (that means the stories that surrounded me were of a particular literary genre nature) who was born to be a southern novelist and who believed in signs and wonders.
I read a chapter aloud titled, The Dream Readers and wanted to shout with how much I loved it and how it captured this slice of my growing up, being at my Grandmother's house and the women of the family who believed in Jesus and about signs and dreams and forebodings.
Then I turned to a chapter about the full moon and watching it on a winter night, whispering prayers, being filled with a strange and wondrous Peace and I began to cry. At my own words. Again. I decided to not try to read that chapter aloud.
There's a letter to a friend about being southern and a believer that includes an entire PROLOGUE from a Novel-in-progress, letter to my granddaughters about death and faith and living, a letter to friend about Divorce, a short-short story about a man who sees a light at the window, a chapter where I imagine Death being a train we catch and the angel of Death being a bartender who pours memories and revelations in a glass - one tiny, final sip of this thing called life.
And I fell in love with this story in all it's Southern Gothic, Christian Mystic storytelling ways. In love I tell you. Which is exactly the way a new mother should be. Someone ready to whip out a photo and say - let me tell you about my baby.
I was bold and inspired in the telling. I pray to be so now in the revealing. It's time to take this baby on the road and bring her out into the world to meet you. I do so hope you love her.
God bless and keep you on this March night full of stars and wild with story.
Some years ago I spoke at the Gulf Coast Writers Conference about the act of birthing a new book. I broke the book down into trimesters, comparing the significance and similarities between the stages of conception to delivery. The attendees loved it.
People rushed to ask me, "What book were you reading from? I want to buy that book! I must have that book."
"My journal," I said. "I just wrote this this morning." I got lucky. I was inspired. One of those magic moments when things pour out of you and through you.
And, somewhere in my journals of musings I have that original draft. Wish I could lay hands on it now. But this morning that day and that analogy came back to me so powerfully because I feel that restless, obsessive sense that the time isn't only near, it is arriving. The contractions have begun.
Almost everyone knows there are different stages to giving birth but if you have delivered a baby you have a different perspective. That sense of urgency and that you cannot escape what is happening. You will not eat dinner, watch a movie, or stare at that spot on the wall without thinking of pushing. It's all about the delivery at this point.
The weeks leading up to going into labor are hot, heavy and boring. They were for me. The nursery if you have one has been fixed. The maternity clothes are no longer cute. They are hideous. All those little booties and onesies you awwed over - you are waiting to fill them but bouncy excitement has been replaced with a solid determination. I WILL have this baby! And - it is TIME TO HAVE THIS BABY. When you are 91/2 months pregnant with your first child it feels like 10.5 years. People looked at me and instead of saying all those, "You're just glowing!" declarations they now said, "I'm sooooo sorry," as I waddled on swollen feet.
I went from being afraid of the pain of giving birth as a young mother for the first time to saying - bring it on! After four thousand hours in labor I finally gave birth to a ten pound baby. Then the doctor apologiesed saying he just had no idea and didn't know the baby was that big or they would have done a c-section and so on. (I tried to tell him I couldn't breathe!) But the baby was healthy and I survived the ordeal. Excuse me - miracle of giving birth.
When I had my second son I knew it was D-day the moment I woke up. I told my sister who was going in the delievery room with, "You better get off from work because today is the day." Like the amazing sister she is, she believed me. She did. And on a list of errands a day long while standing in the grocery store marking things off the list I went into labor. We had to leave a few items still on the shelves.
It was not a long delivery but it was an unplanned completely natural one as the only shot person could not be found. Enter the pushing method via all natural method. I didn't ask for natural.
The BIG PUSH
For some (see many) months I've been overdue on my final manuscript submission for Confessions of An American Mystic. But something wasn't right. It wasn't just that life had derailed me, it was more. I was having trouble with the content. Having completed the book once and submitted all it needed was a good rewrite. But when I went back to the pages I thought it needed more. I just didn't know what.
You can't just say - ok, I decided, it's time. I've been elephant pregnant at this point and I'm gonna have someone just take it out. Nope. Doesn't work that way. Conceptions is it's on act. But so is growth, development, and something mystical, a mystery we can't lay our hand on even if we say we can. The miracle of something coming to life. Of the sacred story making it's way - finally - into the world.
The baby is ready to be born. I'm pacing the floor, talking to myself and going back to hitting the keys.
What's being born in your world? Are you going through that moment when inspiration first hits? Like that kid in the picture when that moment first arrives it is pure delight. The big Eureka moment. It's a moment worth savoring and enjoying. Because the time to dig in, roll up your sleeves and begin the real work will start soon. And, there isn't always a certainty of when that looks like.
Sometimes a story midwife needs to be called in. One like the excellent Blake Leyers. I did that recently because I couldn't see forest for the trees. You might need a professional eye on your words. Although a writers critique group can be invaluable sometimes it's a good thing to get a read from a professional outside your circle. The world of editors are worth more than their weight in gold. They illuminate the manuscript, see the parts that need to come to life, or need to be cut away.
That 2nd part of the trimester is not the bubbles moment of conception but it is when you put the words to the page and then work them.
But when the push comes, regardless of who is with you in the delivery room, no matter how many cheerleaders, when it comes to writing a book only you can know exactly when it's time to say -
A story is being born.
Godspeed with your words.
Thanks so much for reading, liking and sharing with friends.