Author: Carlton Hughes - Lighter Look at Writer's Life

I just returned from another writers conference, this one in my home state of Kentucky, and I was once again inspired in a special way.

Before I explain, I must say that the keynotes by the amazing Twila Belk were just what I needed, and the workshops from the various faculty members provided valuable instruction to help me along my writing journey. I have been going to this conference for years, and it is great to spend time with my “homies.”

That being said, I ended up getting a prophetic word from a chocolate wrapper.

Yes, you read that right. If you know me, you know I am a chocoholic. I love chocolate in all forms, any time of day, which you can probably tell by looking at me. I cannot pass it up.

This weekend, as I walked through the nearly-empty bookstore on my way to a class, I spied a lovely pile of Dove chocolates on Brandilyn Collins’ table. Brandilyn is an award-winning, bestselling author of Seatbelt Suspense books, of which I have only read one because it was free and I am a chicken and it is nice to be able to sleep at night without every light in the house on. It was a great, well-written book, but I spent the next two weeks looking over my shoulder. But I digress . . .

I grabbed a chocolate off the table, unwrapped it and popped it in my mouth. Then I read the wrapper, as Dove chocolates come with the added bonus of nifty little sayings, and almost did a spit-take.

The message: “What are you waiting for?” Cue the brick falling from heaven.

Nearly every keynote and workshop I had heard up until that point emphasized the same message. What am I waiting for? Now is the time to write, to spread God’s message of love and forgiveness to an increasingly dark world. Now is the time to do the work to pursue my writing dreams. Now is the time to eat good quality chocolate as an inspiration. I kept that crumpled wrapper and am going to look at it each time I feel like giving up.

My last post spotlighted Davis Bunn and this one featured Brandilyn Collins, so thanks for reading part two of my “Name-Drop Famous Authors” series. Stay tuned next month for part three: “Carlton Drinks a Dr. Pepper with Max Lucado.”

I recently discovered something startling, and I need to tell someone. Award-winning, internationally bestselling author Davis Bunn has been peeking in my windows.

I realized this fact during his keynote address at the recent Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference. The scenario he described was a perfect capsule of my life for the past year.

Watch the rosebushes, Davis.

He described a time in his life when he wanted to write while holding down a full-time job that was stressful. Well, hello. He said he would come home in the evenings and try to write, but he was too drained and exhausted, mentally and physically, to do so.

Here’s some Windex, Davis, make yourself useful.

I have been in my current job for 27 years, and the majority of the time it has been a wonderful place to work. This year? Hmmmm. I won’t go into details, but it was a tough, tough year. Most days, I felt the same way as Davis described. After work, I would often try to write something meaningful, but the words didn’t come. It was easier to give myself a brain break and play Spider Solitaire and watch the Great British Baking Show on Netflix.

Davis said something else that hit me where I live.

“By focusing on the hardship of my situation, I was making the hardship harder still.”

[bctt tweet=”“By focusing on the hardship of my situation, I was making the hardship harder still.”- Davis Bunn” username=”@davisbunn ‏@A3forme”]

Why you gotta be so real, Mr. Bunn?

I realized what I had done. I had let the stress of everyday life keep me from what God called me to do. I was like Peter, who sank like a rock when he paid attention to the waves instead of focusing his eyes on Jesus while He was walking on water. I had gazed on the circumstances and not on the Savior.

Bunn completed his speech, and I assume he returned to his room to write another bestseller.

On the other hand, I trudged across campus through a monsoon to my lovingly-appointed Ridgecrest room and got real with God. In the most honest time of prayer I’ve had in a long time, I asked Him to forgive me and to help me navigate the balance between the circumstances of life and my writing. I emerged with my faith energized, knowing He will keep His promises and motivate me to do better at keeping my eyes on Him.

Full disclosure: Davis Bunn didn’t actually look in my windows (Although that would be cool, albeit a little creepy). However, he did obey God by “opening the vein” to share a message that hit me and many others like a hammer right when we needed it.

Thanks, Davis Bunn. Oh, and you missed a spot over there.

On a recent lazy Saturday afternoon I was switching the television channels and happened upon a rerun of The Bionic Woman.

On this particular episode, Lisa, an imposter with a thick Southern accent who had just gotten out of plastic surgery to make her look exactly like the Bionic Woman (Lindsay Wagner, in a DUAL ROLE), posed as Jamie Sommers to carry out an intricate money-laundering plot. I say money laundering, because the climax of the episode took place in the laundry room of a hospital, where a crooked doctor had hidden a bunch of money. The Bionic Woman foiled the bad guys by using her bionic strength to hurl heavy bags of LAUNDRY at them. In a final confrontation with the doppelganger, she proved she was the real Jamie by using her bionic legs to jump all the way to the top of the high ceiling.

I narrated the episode to my wife, much to her delight (as you can imagine). “She’s going to use her super-hearing to open that combination lock . . . watch this, she’s getting ready to jump off that ledge with her bionic legs . . . look, she’s going to punch her bionic arm right through that wall . . . man, what a crush I had on her back in the day!”

Okay . . . maybe I didn’t verbalize that last statement. Sorry, honey.

The show was pure ‘70s-style cheesy entertainment, and it took me back down memory lane about 40 years (I’m dating myself) to battles with Fembots and other baddies.

Upon deeper thought about this episode—and I’m probably the only person who has ever had a deep thought about this episode—I realized there are many people in the world who would look down their nose at this type of entertainment. They don’t appreciate things like Fonzie jumping over a shark, Zsa Zsa Gabor selling cosmetics to the Facts of Life girls, and Laverne falling asleep at a cocktail party with Shirley dragging her across the room.

As a writer, and a Christian writer especially, I want to inspire people, but at least part of my job is to entertain. If you’ve been reading my corner of this blog any time at all, you would agree that I lean more toward that entertainment side most of the time. We’re all part of the body of Christ, and someone has to be the armpit that makes the funny noises.

Why not have some fun with your writing? Try something new and wild and crazy. You don’t necessarily have to write about Fembots and shark-jumping motorcyclists and mysterious identical twins with heavy Southern accents, but you can inject some smiley touches here and there.

In other words . . . pass the cheese, please.

There’s a whole lot of ugliness going on in this world. War, political infighting, abuse. It’s enough to make a Christian throw his or her hands up and move to a remote cabin in the mountains, or at least to a van down by the river.

But guess what . . . Jesus doesn’t want us to do that. On the contrary, He wants us to live and function in the middle of all the ugly.

When I first felt God calling me to be a Christian writer, I was full of questions. What would I write? How/when/where could I get published? How long would it take me to replace Max Lucado on the bestseller lists? Still waiting on that last one.

At the time I discovered singer Sara Groves’ music (I’ve mentioned her before—she’s amazing) and her song Add to the Beauty. The lyrics of that song gave me a laser focus as a writer:

I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That’s burning inside

That was it! That was to be my purpose as a Christian who is a writer: to add to the beauty. That doesn’t mean I ignore the struggles or problems of life, but it does mean I can point readers to the Hope that exists beyond the strife.

In the years since my revelation, I’ve written standardized test questions, sports stories, textbook summaries, and, yes, even devotionals and other Christian works. Did I include a sermon in the middle of my report on the regional cross country meet? No. Did I write test questions about the Beatitudes? No. But I wrote those pieces with God’s inspiration, and hopefully the light shined through.

I have never done this before on this blog, but I am going to issue a challenge to you wonderful readers: go out and add to the beauty this week. Write something inspirational. Send an encouraging note to a friend. For goodness sake, share a picture of your dinner or a funny cat video on social media instead of a rant. Whatever the case, find the beauty and add to it. Our world needs your influence now more than ever.

In my sternest teacher voice: “There will be a test over this assignment . . . someday!”

The other day, a post came through my social media feed from Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference, which I attend regularly. It was a graphic with a question: “What’s on your Blue Ridge Conference Bucket List?”

Most people would answer that question, obviously, with things related to a writing career: signing a book contract, getting an agent, landing a challenging writing assignment. We all have dreams we carry with us to such an event. Those things are well and good, but there’s something different at the top of my Blue Ridge Bucket List.

I just want some Blue Ridge chocolate macaroons.

If you’ve ever been to the conference, you know what I’m talking about. Once during the week, when you least expect it, there are little bits of Heaven in the dessert line. They’re like a cross between a fudgy brownie, a cookie, a Mounds bar, and manna. My mouth is watering as I write this post. We “macaroon veterans” stalk the food line at every meal, every day, in anticipation of scoring some of these tasty treats, and we will stop at nothing to get what we want.

Last year we made it to lunch on Wednesday (the next-to-last-day) with no macaroons in sight. Honestly, I was getting nervous. That day I sat down to eat with my friends Cynthia and Dwayne Lovely and a new friend, Connie Clyburn. The conversation was easy and fun as we chatted and laughed about anything and everything. Then it happened.

Toward the end of the allotted meal time, a lady approached our table, lunch tray in tow. She had been delayed at an appointment and asked if she could sit with us. We were happy to oblige, and imagine our surprise when we looked at her tray and saw . . . BLUE RIDGE CHOCOLATE MACAROONS!

“Where did you get those?” The intensity in our eyes was evident.

“They just put them out on the dessert line.” She looked a bit bewildered at our obvious passion for the cookies.

(Notice those dialogue beats. Yes, I actually pay attention in class between meal times.)

Connie, Cynthia, and I took off like we were on fire; it’s been years since I have moved that fast. We entered the food service area—through the exit, no less—and spotted one of the workers.

“Where are the MACAROONS?”

The lady looked a bit scared as she pointed them out. We each filled our plates with a generous serving and returned to our table, proud of our conquest. We are hip, modern writers, so we pulled out our phones and took pictures of our macaroon bounty.

You can take this post as a cautionary tale—if you attend the Blue Ridge conference, stay out of our way when you see the macaroons on the dessert line, and no one will get hurt.

Or you can take this story as a lesson about writers conferences—these events are about more than writing. The friends, fun, and fellowship are just as, if not more, important.

And the food. The glorious food.

Irony. It’s my new middle name.

In my post for last month I detailed how I had been working on a project in which the word count was 250 words per piece. I mentioned how, as a wordy person, I struggled to pare down my work to meet that limit.

Well.

Two days after I submitted that blog post, I got an email from my editor. There had been some miscommunication about the word count—the 250 word limit was for the previous project I had done for the same company (finished last summer). The current project actually had a 500 word-limit.

500 words. DOUBLE what I had written. God has a sense of humor.

The editor praised my pieces but asked that I rewrite them to make them LONGER. After all of the sweat I had expended to keep them short. I had to laugh at the irony.

And here’s the deal: once you have learned to “write tight” and have worked to limit yourself on words, it’s incredibly hard to double the word count.

“God is very, very, very, extremely, unbelievably good.” That’s what I wanted to write, but I didn’t. I dived back in and tried to extend my stories without seeming like I was stretching. Trust me—it’s not as easy as it sounds. The editor gave me some nice suggestions on how to “beef up” the pieces, and hopefully they turned fine. I truly appreciate her taking the time to work with me in this situation.

As I finished the last edit today, I thought of two things.

First of all, scripture came to mind: Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. That’s Philippians 4:11-12, New King James Version. The CHV—Carlton Hughes Version—might read, I have learned how to write tight and how to stretch out the word count.

Finally I thought of Roseanne Roseannadanna, the character Gilda Radner used to play. She would end her Weekend Update reports by summing up life in a few simple phrases. My latest escapade might sound like this: “It’s always something; if it’s not one thing, it’s another. Either you have to write to a very short word limit or you have to stretch out what you’ve already written. Or you have food stuck in your beard (Roseanne would have wanted me to include that last sentence, as she thrived on gross things).”

I think I’ll go rest now. I’m very, very, very, extremely, unbelievably tired.

I recently wrapped three projects in which my written pieces could only be 250 words max, including a Bible verse and prayer. What were these editors thinking? I’m a writer, a teacher, and a public speaker—I normally can’t say “Hello” in 250 words.

At first I grumbled and complained (to myself, of course). I would write what I thought was the perfect essay and then look at the word count. One totaled 262. Many clocked in at 270 or more. One night I exclaimed, “Oh, man!” My wife wanted to know what was wrong.

“I have too many words,” I replied. We’ve been married 22 years, so I think she already knew that.

There were nights (Yes, I write at night—you wouldn’t want to read what I would write in the morning) when I wanted to give up. How could I create with such restrictive guidelines?

I soon realized God was stretching me and teaching me to “write tight.” I became more aware of extraneous words and phrases and tried to eliminate them as I developed pieces. I honed my self-editing skills. Can I word that phrase shorter but just as meaningful? Do I need all of that background information? Is there a shorter Bible verse? There was a point I considered using “Jesus wept,” but it didn’t fit the devotional theme.

I’m happy to say I met every deadline, with every piece at 250 words or less. By the end my drafts were well below that number. I like to think God will use this “less is more” training in the next step of my writing journey.

May I say I was very, very, very, very, very pleased to complete these projects?

Ah, that felt good.

When I watch a talk show or news program, I appreciate a good transition.

That’s all the time we have for weather, but stay tuned: sports is up next!

We’d like to thank Gallagher for joining us here on the Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. Coming up next: Shields and Yarnell!

(If you get that last reference, I guess you’re SEASONED like me.)

Recently, in my day job as a public speaking professor, I was explaining the importance of transitions, which ease the change from one major part of the speech to another. The discussion got me thinking about life transitions. After all, they have been a theme lately.

Earlier in the fall, my wife and I moved our sons away to college, causing us to transition to the “empty nester” life. We miss the boys terribly, but we CAN slip off to eat or shop without thinking about picking someone up from a practice.

My work schedule has changed, with an extra class at a different site added this semester. This change has forced me to adjust to an earlier time slot and to increase my daily caffeine intake.

As for my writing life, I have received several assignments recently for a type of writing that I never thought I would do. These assignments are a blessing, for sure, but they’ve been a challenge, forcing me out of my comfort zone. That’s a good thing, and it feels like God is opening doors and transitioning me into a new phase.

I think the main thing about life transitions is trust. When I hear that transition on the news, I trust that sports is really the next segment. When I watched Johnny Carson back in the day, I believed him when he promised me some groovy mimes after the commercial break.

And I trust that God knows what He’s doing and will see me through all of life’s changes, including new, different writing projects.

“Dear Mr. Blog Manager, please excuse Carlton for being late with his post. Life has happened. Thank you.”

Sound familiar? Writers know that to be successful, they need to write regularly. That’s a great concept, but sometimes it is hard to execute when life seems to hit all around us.

“Dear Mr. Blog Manager, please excuse Carlton for being late with his post. His cat got injured.”

Life can take some unexpected turns, forcing us to set aside our writing. Those turns are part of the journey, but we can’t let them keep us from our work forever (the cat is recovering nicely, by the way).

“Dear Mr. Blog Manager, please excuse Carlton for being late with his post. Work is crazy right now.”

Most of us “Almost An Author” types have day jobs that put food on the table. And, I don’t know about you, but there are seasons when those jobs are just plain wacky. I’m a college professor and just started a new semester, and it has been wackier than usual. I’ve learned I have to ride out those seasons and hope for calmer times when I can give more attention to writing.

“Dear Mr. Blog Manager, please excuse Carlton for being late with his post. He just met a big deadline and is out of words right now.”

Ever felt that way? There was an old song that said “26 letters are all I have.” Stringing those letters into meaningful sentences can be hard when you’re just off a big assignment.

“Dear Mr. Blog Manager, please excuse Carlton for being late with his post. He just took his sons off to college, and the preparation and follow-through were tough.”

Transitions can be tricky, and my wife and I are currently getting accustomed to the empty nest. The buildup to that was big, and for a few weeks you couldn’t get through my living room for the plastic totes, foot lockers, duffel bags, and the like. We’re all doing well in our new roles, but my focus has been on the transition as of late.

We all have excuses for not writing as we should. Some of those excuses are legitimate, while others don’t hold up as well. I could have easily written that I’ve played too much Spider Solitaire or obsessed quite a bit over the Olympics. Those wouldn’t sound as good, would they?

So, back to writing. No excuses. Right after I beat my high score in Spider Solitaire.