We've Built It

The hustle and bustle that accompanies the preparation is intense. We go from moment to moment wondering what the next productive move will be and then we lunge for it. The frenzy picks up, as books are ordered, plans are etched in stone (then scraped off and re-imprinted).  The mind races, and then slows to a tortoise’s crawl; only to ramp up just before the event. Questions come in and out of focus. Prayers are recited, Hail Mary’s are offered up and fingers are crossed. “Please let the reader turnout be great.” We begin to hope that the movie quote is true, in this instance, “If you build it, they will come.” 

Haven’t we built it? The weeks, months and sometimes years of time spent on our work, should account for something. The dedication and precious moments missed with family and friends should speak to our dedication to the craft. The money spent, the hairs lost, and the deprivation of sleep is the foundation for a Book Fair. We pack up the car, book the plane tickets and hotel rooms (or call dibbs on our brother’s sofa bed) in hopes of being appreciated by the one group of people that mean more to us than … (well, you decide). 

Haven’t we built it? We allow our imaginations to run wild or open up the secret vaults of our lives for the reader. We paint pictures with our words and have other people critique it in hopes to produce a work that is worthy of their time. Our fingers are steadily tapping away at the keyboards and our pens are running out of ink as we create a ‘masterpiece.’ Surely, we have built it, right?

The day arrives and we are excited. We lug boxes, cases and duffle bags filled with the cement blocks that are to be used to build this Book Fair; our books. The hosts of the fair walk anxiously about, silently praying they have done enough advertising and marketing. They see our faces. They can sense our expectation. It mimics their own. They, too, want this to be a success. Their name is on the line. It is their reputation that is at stake with the authors in attendance. Surely, they have built it …

Authors and Book Fair hosts need the reader. We need them to come out and support what we have built over time, over our lives. We need them to understand the sacrifice it takes to please them – the intimacies shared and the testimonials given and the creative channeling that takes place in order to entertain, inspire and motivate them. 

Yes, we have built it … Readers, we need you to come.


Ubawa Annual Book Fair (c) 

A Look Into the Life of Zeke Montgomery, Beholden

Zeke Montgomery

It is early Sunday morning and I cannot sleep. What can I do to make the situation better? I don’t understand what the hold-up is. I look over and Ziva is sleeping so peacefully. She is the love of my life. Even at 50, she is still the most gorgeous woman, in my eyes. I will do anything for her, and she knows it. Since the beginning of our courtship, she has never doubted it. There have been many opportunities for her to raise an eyebrow, at the women who throw themselves at me. Yet, she remains steadfast in her knowledge and dynamic of our relationship. I must admit, I would like to see a small fire of jealousy brewing behind her eyes, every now and then. Nonetheless, I am a blessed man to have a woman be so completely safe in her position. Her confidence is amazing. It always has been. It took a lot of personal ego boosting to get up the nerve to approach her, in the beginning. I was surprised she gave me the time of day, but I am so glad she did. I couldn’t ask for a better companion in my life. She is my rock! I wish she had something more to offer me, though, when it comes to the issue at hand. I want her to brainstorm with me and take up the charge to bring in more people. This is one area that she just seems to not understand. Ziva sees the glass as half full. She believes that more will come, in time. I am filled with anxiety and worry. She tells me to settle down. Whenever we talk about it, she takes my hands and kisses them and tells me to have faith. I have faith. I just want to see some results of all my hard work and dedication. This vision is my life’s work. It should be bigger than it is, by now. There should be more people. It smacks me in the face every time I stand up on the podium and see empty seats staring back at me. It is distracting. The vacancies are more disturbing than the lackluster participation of most of the congregants. I just want the seats filled, is that too much to ask for? I don’t think so. I have to do something…but, what?

Well, Ziva is stirring and the sun is beginning to rise. It is time to get up and begin to prepare for the morning. I’m just not feeling it today. I want to lay here and not have to face those empty seats. But, duty calls. I turn over and put my arms around my beautiful wife and watch her as she opens her eyes. A smile illuminates her face. I brush her beautiful chestnut hair with my hand and smile.

“I love you, Zeke.”

“I love you, Ziva.”

This inside look is taken during the first part of the book BEHOLDEN. See where this is going – http://inezreilly.wix.com/iamsproperty#!online-store/c1ztk

Beholden Interactive Questions

BEHOLDEN INTERACTIVE QUESTIONS

CHAPTER ONE

1) When you first encounter Mavet, what is your impression of him?

2) Why do you think Mavet has such an issue with Ziva Montgomery?

3) What do you notice about Maren Dane? What makes you feel that way?

4) What is the dynamic between Zeke Montgomery and Mavet?

5) How is the Wisdom Outreach Center much like the churches, of today?

MORE FUN!

If you were to draw a picture of Mavet, what would he look like?

WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

What types of outreach initiatives would you employ if you were looking to increase the membership of your group or fellowship?

ADD YOUR ANSWERS TO THE COMMENTS SECTION AND SEE WHAT OTHERS HAVE TO SAY.

Get your copy: http://tinyurl.com/mg977k7

Just-A-Taste Free Promo

Congratulations Inez! Your excerpt has been chosen for our Just-A-Taste Free Promo Booklet. Just-A-Taste gives readers a peek inside 20 must read books before you die. We received dozens of submissions, but only chose the best.

While there is no compensation for this feature, it affords you free exposure, not only for yourself but for your books as well, by connecting you with new readers in the metro Atlanta area and across the country. Free copies of this booklet will be available at the fair on a first come, first serve basis. Additional copies can be ordered via our website at www.ubawa.org.

An Analogy of the Writing Process

I smile at the thoughts, before anything ever happens. I close my eyes and I can see the scene play out before me. I start watching the clock just as the morning gives way to the afternoon. The steady and predictable movements of the second hand give my eyes something to pay attention to because my mind is racing. There is no rhyme or reason, no sense of fast or slow, so the clock becomes my meditative focal point. Telephones are ringing, people are talking, and deadlines are looming overhead. All of this attempt to distract me by overwhelming me.

Car horns blaring, people cursing, pedestrians moseying across the street. The longing grows and I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. I turn on the radio, and then turn it off, again. I smile at the thought of the text message I received, whetting my appetite further. The temptation to re-read it is great, but I resist. There is little safety in going back, when there is so much left to do; so much further to go.

With just one more corner to turn, a gentle rain begins to fall. I smile. It is just like the clock, this afternoon. It provides a sense of staccato, keeping time for me. This should not be rushed. The raindrops roll down the windshield creating patterns that could obscure my view. I turn on the window wipers. I need to focus and the sound is enough. The water sloshes to the side of the window and slide off the side of the car. When I pull the car into the garage, I can smell dinner cooking. I sit back and allow the aroma fill my nostrils; steak and potatoes. It would seem that it would be too much to indulge in with the after dinner plans requiring so much energy. Not for us. We need the sustenance. We are giving ourselves what we need to do what we desire; what we have longed for all day long. The anticipation is part of the success.

The table has been wiped clean and the dishes are put away. Total attention can be paid to the way we choose to end our day. He takes my hand. It’s warm, and so am I. We turn off the lights and start the assent of the stairs and the descent to the bed. Yes, this was worth the wait. It was worth the distractions and the wading through the water. It was worth the preparation of a good meal and the putting away of the dishes. It was worth it to see his smile. It was worth it for him to see mine. Climax…round one.