Try.

Short and sweet advice, right?

Try. Just try.

While many of you are fully engaged in NaNoWriMo, I’ve been pondering whether I have any business writing Christian fiction. This is something I admit I’ve done more than once. However, this time was different. It’s not that writing fiction is too hard. It isn’t. I actually enjoy it. I enjoy engaging in the stories in my head, wondering where the characters are going and why.

Nor was it because breaking in as a fiction writer is hard or I’ve had no success. I’ve done well in the Frasier and was a finalist in two others. I’ve worked on my proposals and just need to rework some of my chapters based on the feedback I received at and after AFCW.

Why, then?

Doubt. I doubted I am good enough. I doubted anyone would want to read what I write. And, of course, I doubted that God wants me to write fiction. You see, ghostwriting and freelance writing, as well as editing Christian living, curriculum and even web content come easily for me and I get paid to do them. As I was working on my revisions, one of my main ghostwriting sources called with work. A lot of work. Good paying work.

I thought, maybe that’s what God wants me to do. See how much there is. That looks like provision. That looks like answers.

Only I’m in this huddle group and we were reading this book called, Rooms by James L. Rubart. It is also one of two books I’ve finished and liked. One of my amazing huddlers somehow gets the author to join our huddle to discuss his book. A book smart, English grad, I know all the answers to all the questions. Yes, I saw that twist. I loved the imagery. And, of course, I understood the inference made on the last few pages. Loved it. Nailed it. Asked a bunch of questions and quietly heard a voice – the one in my soul, saying, “Listen to you. You love this.”

I answer the voice in my head, trying to listen to something brilliant asked by my fellow huddler, “I do. But that doesn’t mean I should be doing it.”

“You’re wrong.”

Quiet.

I return to the conversation. Then, James Rubart leaves us with this one piece of advice. I’m sharing it because you need it. You need it when you, like me, doubt the talent – the gift God gave you. He talked about the Matthew 25: 14-30, the parable Jesus told about the talents.

He said (and now I’m paraphrasing), that each of the servants who tried was rewarded. Regardless of how much they made, when they invested in the talents given – when they tried – they were rewarded. Only the one who did nothing with his talents – who buried them – was not.

Good stuff. But wait, here’s the best part.

When the day comes where James stands before Jesus, he would be able to say he tried.

I didn’t see that coming. My English education at a semi-prestigious not quite ivy-covered university back home didn’t prepare me for that.

He tried while I’m thinking of giving up. And, oh yeah, he likes an idea I can’t seem to let go of for a series. He tried. I’m doubting. Then I’m in tears. Good and bad ones (thankfully he was gone now) because I realize his advice was for me. This was God’s Word. This was a lot. This was the answer. Try.

How about you?

Rejected by an agent, a publisher. A one-star review. Someone say you aren’t good enough. Is that someone you? What are you going to say when Jesus asks what you did with your talent?

~*~

A Frasier Bronze Medalist and Rattler and Splickety Finalist, Nick Kording writes contemporary and Biblical fiction with a touch of romance, as well as Christian living, Bible studies, and devotionals. Her books and other writing can be found at www.nickkording.com where she writes about dreaming out loud.