The Work of Prayer

I don't know why this is on my mind today, but it is; ever faithful to the itinerant winds of my mind, I'm going to talk about it with you. The topic is prayer, and an interesting question that comes up frequently concerning prayer: does it actually work? This is a question that prompted a "scientific" study of prayer a few years ago. I wish I had stopped for a few moments to think about what such a study might reveal, and predict it before my friend revealed the results. I probably could have come quite close.

For the study, they took several groups of sick people. One group was prayed for, but not told they were being prayed for; a second was not prayed for, but told they were; and a third was prayed for as well as being told they were prayed for. And they judged the results in healing times and frequencies. They were determined, by this test, to see if prayer actually worked or not.  Before I tell you what happened (if you haven't already heard of this study) let's pause to examine prayer from a Scriptural stand-point, instead of a (popular) cultural one.

My Reasons for Hope

It's funny how things can work out; sometimes all your hard work is suddenly rendered nearly meaningless by the sudden appearance of an outside factor. Take, for instance, my independent study this year: Working to Land an Agent. Course description? Research, query, and try to land a literary agent for my novel. It took several weeks into the semester before my adviser took me down this road: I started in January with working on an anthology of short stories -- which I may take on next year, but we'll see. But what happened was something that began actually last semester, and is still ongoing but nearing a (successful?) conclusion.

Think Like A Man?

No, this isn't a review of a movie; and I apologize that this is turning into Faith & Politics Friday. I promise it'll stop soon; my political science class is over in a week and a half. But I've had a question on my mind for a long time that just floated in and out, and I could never seem to really investigate it more. Well, I could yesterday; and I don't know if my professor wondered why I got fidgety all of a sudden in class, but my mind was spinning. So I thought I'd present it to you all.

The question I have is, why do we think that wisdom always necessarily comes out of democracy? (I haven't yet gotten the question in a phrasing I like, either.) I mean, why do we assume that if we get 10,000 people together and ask them questions, the answer at which they arrive is better than the answer of one person with advanced knowledge of the subject? Well I think I have an answer, but some people may not like it. I know my boss wouldn't.

Review of "If They Keep Silent"

Woke up and found this on a friend's blog. This man is awesomely supportive, and a terrific and prolific writer himself. Check it out, and check out his poetry posted a couple times a week!

http://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2012/04/daniel-dydeks-if-they-keep-silent.html

See you tomorrow.

The Pride of Vanity

Today is, indeed, the official Writing Wednesday, even though I talked about writing yesterday (sort of). But I can't pretend yesterday didn't happen either; lots of good things happened that I want to keep as having happened. So I'd like to build off of one theme and expand it a little: self-publishing.

For the duration of this post (and, really, until things change) I'd like to remember that I am not a high-and-mighty published author; I am not even an author with an agent; and I am someone with a self-published title (see sidebar -- and feel free to check out the book, too). But you can ask my fiancee (always-becoming.blogspot.com): I don't consider myself an author, still only a writer. I am not one who has "made it" and is trying to keep others away, or feeling some twisted kind of need to "keep the waters pure," or something like that. But I do have serious misgivings about self-publishing.

Plea/Bargain

Little bonus this week, because it's hitting close to home. Some of you may have heard about the Justice Department filing an anti-trust suit against Apple and five US publishers. Others of you may listen to NPR and have heard a quote by one Mark Cooper, director of Consumer Federation of America. I didn't actually hear the quote, but I read it. It disturbed me, just a little. Here's what he said, as per npr.org: "[Amazon] may be a threat to the publishers, but that's only because they're more efficient and they'll deliver books at a lower cost. They're not a threat to the consumer, and that's what's the important point." (Emphasis mine.)

Now, I understand that Mr. Cooper is the director of the Consumer Federation of America, so there's going to be some unavoidable bias. My problem with this quote is it only assumes two parties: publishers and consumers. Unfortunately, there is a third. Need a hint? Look at my bio, and consider who it is writing to you.

That's right: writers. Low prices and piracy are a threat to writers. When we're dealing with cars, with iPods and iPads, with food, water, housing -- most physical objects which inhabit our world, prices are very objective: means of production + cost of production + cost of distribution and shelving = cost to consumer.

Here's the problem with that: publishers are the only ones working for salary or hourly wage, and the only physical object is the book -- which is taken away with e-books. The money a writer receives is entirely dependent on the price of the book. Publishers take the lion's share -- while they need writers to publish, they do handle a crap-ton of the work, between editing (which, sorry self-pubbers, is more than just a spelling and grammar check, which many of us still need), marketing, publishing, and distributing; agents, if the writer went a good route and got an agent, takes another 15% to 20% (I think Josh Bilmes over at brilligblogger.blogspot.com had the actual dollar numbers (roughly) of what a writer brings home on hardback, paperback, and e-book sales. It's not a terrible lot.)

Art across the spectrum is more complicated than cost v. pricing. We can't all just work 40 hours a week, and we can't be guaranteed a salary. We need people to buy books, and to buy books at a price that earns us some amount of money. We aren't owed our passion as a full-time job, and I'm not demanding it. But just remember that it hurts the writers', the painters', the musicians' wallets more than it hurts yours. Just watch the movie Equilibrium to see a world without art. If you want that, by all means, steal the book or demand copies for 99 cents. If you don't, help an author and pay a few bucks more.

See you tomorrow.

Promises of...Prosperity?

I don't know, folks; the more I think about this, the more I'm convinced that Western Christians have had it way too good for way too long. Paul said the cross would seem foolishness; Jesus prayed to God on behalf of the disciples he was leaving behind, lamenting that they would have to stay behind in a fallen and broken world; Jesus promised us persecution: he preached for three years before people couldn't stand it anymore. We expect and demand an entire life free from any serious, hardcore persecution. I don't mean taunting, jeering, and ridiculing; I mean forced silence, threats, and legal action. Maybe even death.

Bordering on Hysteria

You can't turn the pages of Writer's Digest or any other writing magazine, or browse the blogs of writing, without finding legion articles about the changing face of publishing/book-selling. A particular favorite among fear-mongers of the book's "demise" is the collapse of Borders; and a particular favorite among fear-mongers of the publisher's demise is the e-book. Here's my take.

Good Friday: Read

Sorry I missed Writing Wednesday. I'm trying not to make that a habit, but with work, school, a book, and a fiancee, days can really run away from you. I can tell you that some exciting things are developing toward finding an agent/publishing, but I don't want to bring those eggs to market before they hatch, as it were.

But, oddly, as I was laying in bed this morning I was thinking about death. Specifically about knowing when you were going to die. Usually that knowledge comes, at most, months ahead of the occurrence. There's a devotional series about how to live your whole life as if you've only got 30 days to live. I cannot fully apply that, because as I think about writing and think about all I want to write -- there's simply no way to do all that within thirty days. I have to take a more patient position, or I'll drive myself nuts.

But what if we did know when we were going to die? I know there's been movies and TV episodes based on this premise, and it's getting kind of old. Do you think there would be a year that you wouldn't mind living until? Would there be a year that you would mind living until? Depends on health, sometimes, doesn't it. I wouldn't necessarily want to live to 110 if I had chronic hip pain at 70. Maybe there are those who wouldn't mind dying at 50 or 60: they've had a good life, accomplished everything they've wanted to; "let me go" they might say. But of course, I'm not saying it should be that way.

I also wonder how many of us could choose to die. What if we had some internal trigger that -- when we really meant it, not when we were in the throes of teenage angst -- would let us choose the time of our death.?I feel like every time that moment came, we might push it back a little further. "Let me die when I'm 70." We reach 70, and have grandkids who are getting old enough to be fun. "Never mind, let me die when I'm 80." But now the grandkids are nearing graduation. "Give me until 90." Great grandkids are on the way...

So what about knowing when you're going to die, and also choosing that time to die? It is Good Friday, I said so in the title. Jesus knew when he was going to die, and he spoke of it often. But he also chose that time, in not calling legions of angels to prevent his arrest. Now, not many of us fulfill our lives in our death; usually our work during our life is the calling. But it's still something to consider, and something worth considering. And it's not like Jesus chose to slip away quietly, with friends and loved ones around; he chose a painful, excruciating death. I'm not sure [m]any of us could do that. So in this day of remembrance, let's remember to give thanks, too.

See you next week.

Expect to be Expectant

Monday is a Friday schedule. So you get three posts this week! (Maybe!) Two on faith. This one is something that's hitting me a lot from a lot of different places over the last day or two. Maybe it's the season: this weekend, we dwell on the disciples' dashed expectations as we wait expectantly for the rising Christ. He was raised upon the cross, raised from the dead, and raised to the right hand of the Father. And none of it was according to the expectations of those He came to save. Which got me thinking.