Story of my novel: When I was “called” to write

August 10, 2014 (A week after my novel officially entered the world)

IMG_0157I just took a nap and woke up wanting to comment on Nadia Bolz Weber’s sermon about the five loaves and two fishes. I wanted to ask could she, would she, possibly read my novel, because I this story was part of my call to write. But when sleep faded, I got reticent, eased away from asking for anything in her thread.

Since The Feeding of the 5,000 was the gospel reading for the week, I’ve been coming across people’s meditations. I suppose “nap” is my mental connector to this because I nap in church and last Saturday evening I closed my eyes to Pastor Kinnear’s voice. In my dream state, my stomach gurgled with chips and salsa were at least an hour away, and my butt was crinkled by grass and the sun was finding the horizon. I wanted to reach up with my hands and hold his words, both Pastor’s and Jesus’.

My phone dinged, and dinged again, a mute sound that I have set for when someone is sending me a message. I reached over and took a look. Rachel Simon wrote that she’d received The River Caught Sunlight and would treasure the signed copy. She had bought her own copy and would find someone talkative to give it to.  I slipped the phone back in my purse to pay attention, pleased Rachel took the time to let me know she’d recieved my book and that she’d even bought a copy. She has been a long time friend and encouragement, since we started corresponding when I taught Riding the Bus with My Sister, which asked what does it mean to live a life? Do we have to live a big one for it to be fulfilling? These are questions I was asking then, that I’m asking now.

River Caught Sunlight at the Sycamore Barnes and Noble

River Caught Sunlight at the Sycamore Barnes and Noble

My pastor’s voice sounded like footsteps on gravel. “Don’t you know, all these parables we’re studying are about God’s extravagance? In the parable of the sower he spreads the seeds everywhere, whether the soil is good soil or barren. In this parable everyone is fed and there are baskets of leftovers. God is a God of abundance.”

Years ago a verse in Isaiah shook me when I first read it, “He longs to bless you” because this was a different view of God than I knew as a kid, where preachers thundered about our lack and dangled us over fire. Guilt was how I connected with God; often I repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Even to people I say,  “I am sorry” when it’s not my fault, when I had nothing to do with their trouble but I drew their guilt to me anyway. Even now the ancient Jesus prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner” anchors me.

I opened my eyes and felt the pew against my back because I was called to be a poet under this parable of loaves and fish.

My classes spring semester of my freshman year at Wheaton college  seemed to merge into one class about creativity and writing. Dr. McClatchey did a brilliant explication of “The Windover” by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I can hear his voice now, “Buckle!” The hawk, the lover, Jesus, the poet, must all fall to earth, must all yield their glorious flight to this great fall, this great giving of oneself. He explained how the world turned radiant in that moment “gash gold vermillion..”

The River Caught Sunlight at the Rockford Barnes and Noble.

The River Caught Sunlight at the Rockford Barnes and Noble.

The world turned radiant for me. I was tossed into an exhausting ecstasy where a Rottweiller crossing campus looked like a king and Madeleine L’engle who came to visit, radiated regal glory. (I walked with her back to her guest room and told her I was called to be a poet. I don’t remember what she said but it had to be kind or I would have pushed back some way. I want to remember her response was “and so you are” because I believe anyone who writes as a practice is a writer. In later years L’Engle  did affirm my gift by  saying, “These poems are strong and tender and beautiful. She is a poet.”)

That semester Dr. Lorentzen played a recording where the author quoted Rilke, “Ask yourself in the stillest hour of your night: must I write? Delve into yourself for a deep answer. And if this should be affirmative, if you may meet this earnest question with a strong and simple, ‘I must,’ then build your life according to this necessity; your life even into its most indifferent and slightest hour must be a sign of this urge and a testimony to it.” I answered, “Yes I must write.”

(An answer I return to, even now, because my thoughts back up like so much water, pushing against me, so I can’t think, if I don’t release them onto the page. This is something I forgot in the relief of not writing anything more than Facebook statuses, since we moved to the farm. )

I worked late into the night on a poem, the lack of sleep an easy sacrifice for my art. Dr. Lorentzen cleared his throat and said, “Your talent is like the loaves and two fishes that the Lord will use.” I could hear in his voice that what I had was pretty humble but I also heard that God would use my gift–something little, broken, to feed a whole hillside full of people. My belly was lit. I had to write, so I designed my life around this desire.

As I walked out of church I shook Pastor’s hand how I wasn’t sure much would come of my novel. (I’d looked at my stats on Author Central.) Pastor Kinnear said, “Remember, what I said, God is a God of abundance.” But that abundance might not mean that The River Caught Sunlight will be a bestseller. We were told at Wheaton to strive to be the best, and for me, that meant publishing in The Atlantic or The New Yorker. It meant hitting the bestseller list hard, otherwise you haven’t served.

It’s taken years to let that go, to bless this small, quiet work. L.L.Barkat in Rumors of Water offers a very wise insight, When she asks “Can you find a small audience?” She notes that many young writers want to be published in a big way before they have written for their grandmother. She says, “I did not realize that these small audiences were preparing me for my professional writing life. It’s probably better that I didn’t. I was free to use the casual, red-checkered cloth of my life and my thoughts without making something ‘important’ happen. ”

The River Caught Sunlight at Barnes and Noble in Westport, CT thanks to Tricia Tierney

The River Caught Sunlight at Barnes and Noble in Westport, CT thanks to Tricia Tierney.

God’s idea of abundance reminds me of Annie Dillard writing about the fecundity  of the world in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. “If an aphid lays a million eggs, several might survive.” If I spend years writing a book, if I spend money publishing and promoting that book and even more hours trying to find readers, God’s idea of abundance might mean that I only sell a few copies but those copies might find their way to readers who take heart from my words, and that might be all its meant to do. But still, after years of writing for polite rejection slips, the readers I’ve found here and through my novel, are reading my words, well that feels like deep, clean breaths that reach down and satisfy.

This is linked at Kelli Woodford’s place.

 

 

 

 

 

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About Katie Andraski

I come to the ground, the ground comes to me. My novel The River Caught Sunlight was just published. Here's a description: "Sometimes a person has to leave home, even if that home is the most marvelous place she's ever lived, even if her mother will be diagnosed with terminal cancer, and her beloved farmer, a man she's loved for years asks her to marry him." I have taught composition at NIU for twenty years and have been writing ever since I was a little girl. My husband and I live on a farm with horses, dogs, chickens and one not so feral cat.
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6 Responses to Story of my novel: When I was “called” to write

  1. Beth Hess says:

    What a wonderful reflection on why and how we writers write. Because we must. There are times I feel so must bursting inside that I know it will never be settled until I let it leave through my pen. And I’m trying to remember to just journal. Just write because my spirit must. Not always for posting. Here, too, God has used your words — abundance — to echo His words to me. That he is a Big God doing Big Things. Even when I feel small. Even when I feel insignificant. Abundance. Big Things. Thank you!

  2. Congratulations on your novel. Yes, God is teaching me again and again about extravagance. So often God wants something much deeper and wider than what I would settle for, but not necessarily, of course, the best seller list. God’s grace and mercy are always timed just so and, yes, that loaves and fishes story speaks to me as well – offer the small and simple with open hands and leave the rest to God. Thanks for linking with Unforced Rhythms.

    • katiewilda says:

      Thank you for this wise and thoughtful reply to my essay. I love this, “So often God wants something much deeper and wider than what I would settle for, but not necessarily, of course, the best seller list.” That is so very true.

  3. joepote01 says:

    I’m glad you’re writing, Katie, and glad your novel is doing well.

    I recently read “The River Caught Sunlight.” I enjoyed it and posted a review on Amazon.

    Blessings to you as you continue to share the stories God has given you to tell!

    • katiewilda says:

      Thank you so very much for your review on Amazon. I liked what you said, What I liked best, though, is the approach to faith…the condemnation of extreme ‘conservative Christian’ social activism…the quietness of genuine faith demonstrated in the main character’s development…and the thread of God’s sovereign will being worked out in the flawed decisions of imperfect humans acting of their own free will.

      Overall, a good story, well worth reading.”

      Very generous words that identify what the book is about. And thank you for reading it, even though it’s not your genre too!

      How are things by you?

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