An Author's Platform

Tomorrow, I'll send a single, carefully crafted query letter to a literary agent. If that agent is even slightly interested in what I have to offer, he'll follow the URL in my signature to this site, expecting to find a well-curated collection of writing snippets that showcase my style and voice. He'll look for evidence of engagement with readers, professionalism, voice, consistency.

What he'll find instead is something far less polished and profoundly human: unflattering photos, zero engagement, and words squeezed from the swollen aftermath of grief. This is a stark contrast to the image authors are encouraged to present. Yes, I could delete the posts and hide the photographs, but why would I? If I'm writing for the Christian market, then honesty matters. My readers understand the belly-crawl. They've been there, slathered in muck, trampled by hardship, reaching for the hem of Christ's tunic.

Pain and loss are not only part of the human experience but often at the heart of faith-based storytelling. It's through the lens of my grief that I write with a clearer understanding of the trials we face and the quiet mercies that carry us through. Life--and, I'm sorry to tell you, death--comes for everyone. But so do the hope and profound love awaiting us, even in the deepest trenches.

Time will mend this writer's broken heart. Posts will eventually become joyful again. I'll look pretty again. God's special love for widows grips my arm and pulls me forward. He left me here for a reason. I don't know what that is yet, but I already know it's good.