Focus: How I'm Tripling My Reading for 2015

Last year, it was not uncommon for me to have five books I was reading through at any given time. I might have a writing craft book, Native studies, novel, Christian nonfiction or something I’d gotten to review or from a local author. The problem? When I had a chance to sit down and read, I had to make a choice which book to pick up. Did I want pure entertainment? Wasn’t it time I finished that one about marketing? Did I feel I could decipher my way through a history book?  

pool focus

 

Too many decisions, too many arguments, too many options.

What would I do? Pull up the Netflix app, of course, and watch part of an old movie or TV show.

Did I get much reading done last year? Yes. I read around 19 books. Not shabby, but not great for an author, either.

I was especially challenged by people who read 100 books a year. 200. Over 300. People exist who can read a book a day. How? There are a variety of ways and reasons, but I knew the answer for me. I needed focus.

I pulled out the three tomes I’d tried to read off and on for over a year. I started on one. Finished it. Took on the second one. Finished it. When I finished the third one, I wondered how I’d been able to accomplish in a month what I hadn’t in a year. The answer was simple.

Focus.

I didn’t have to decide which book to read. I didn’t spend precious time and energy and creative thought my brain tends to go into when making a simple decision. Once there was no decision to be made, I started being able to consume books in gulps instead of sips. I read nearly five books in January (plus daily Bible reading and reading my own novel for editing). Multiple that by 12, and I’ll have more than tripled my reading in 2016.

When I have a spare 15-20 minutes, I don’t have to decide what I’m going to do. I pick up the ONE book I’m currently reading.

If I have a spare five minutes, say standing in a long line or waiting for the car to warm up on a cold day, I try to not mindlessly open my Facebook app. Instead, I open Kindle on my phone and read a few pages on the ONE ebook I have going.

Yes, that’s two books total, plus the Bible, that I read on most every day. That’s much less cluttered than 5-7 vying for my attention.

Focus is one of my words for the year. Focus on publishing books and creating new content. Have enough going to keep me working, but not to distraction where I stay busy but really getting nothing done.

When my brother watched the professional billiard tournaments on TV, I’d catch bits of it. I remember one excellent player in a championship game. She was known as something like the black widow. She never missed a shot, and when your turn to break came, you’d better not miss a shot either.

In an intense moment as everyone surveyed the shots she had lined up, what remained on the table, what next four shots would get her to a win, she executed the basic shot at a side pocket, one I might have been able to make. Except she missed. A collective gasp went around the audience. She stayed bent for a moment, before her head dropped and whispered words came through the mic. “I’m thinking about too much.”

She lost focus of the simple task before her.

I’ve done the same. You probably have too. Missed the easy mark with the millions of distractions and things screaming for our attention each day. The opportunities. What will line us up for the next four shots? This? That? The other?

How about we focus on what is right in front of us? That one book. That one shot. That one next thing we need to do with our time.

Whether it’s reading or billiards or publishing books, focus helps us hit the mark…and take gulps instead of sips.

What are you focusing on?

Take a trip to the Chicago World's Fair...in 1893 (Book review)

Against the backdrop of the Chicago World’s Fair, Rosalind’s task of unraveling the mystery of her missing sister is derailed by new enemies and unwanted romances. A young woman coming from the background of a simple farm in Wisconsin, she doesn’t stand much chance in the complexities of high society she is entering as a maid in the plush Sloane house. Disappearing maids and a pushy young Sloane has Rosalind constantly looking over her shoulder for danger. When she gives away her secret to a man she hardly knows, Rosalind wonders if she’s made her worst mistake ever. Or was it the best?

The Chicago World’s Fair history holds intrigue and mystery. I enjoyed traipsing around the fair and through the halls of the dark Sloane house with Rosalind, a young woman very much alone and out of place in the big city. She finds ways to be brave and face her fears despite chilling obstacles. Though the mystery wasn’t quite what I hoped as this book fell more into the romance category, I liked the historical details, and this trip to the World’s Fair.

 

BookLook Bloggers® provided my review copy of this book.

Someday, I'll forgive myself

The standards I set, I set them highReaching up to the glory of God How high can I go? The higher it is, the further I can fall The more it hurts when I land The more others are hurt on the way down Divine forgiveness awaits me there But where is the forgiveness in my heart for me?

Someday, I'll forgive myself

The standards are erected once again So far up I've lost sight of the goal I lean back, look up and pray The climb begins all over again Life rolls on, leaving me behind But it must go and I must take my time Must find the right way, God's way not mine

Someday, I'll forgive myself

When wrath wrecks my soul When temptations strike my weakened flank When the rewards of this world block my view of Him He still waits, carries, sustains When I can no longer look at the mess of me

Someday, I'll forgive myself

It's Him, oh it's Him Always before, always behind, always beside It's Him, oh it's Him Who gives the forgiveness for my soul Who makes my heart as white as snow It's Him, oh it's Him Who gives the forgiveness for myself Who knows, understands, loves

So today, I will forgive myself With the forgiveness He gives

 

Book Review: The Art of Storytelling by John Walsh

Haven’t we told stories since we could talk? Telling stories is easy, right? Yes and no. Just because you can spell doesn’t mean you’re a talented writer. Just because you can speak, doesn’t mean you’re a skilled storyteller capable of holding the attention of everyone from preschoolers to bored adults. And not only hold their attention, but impact their lives.  

 

In the The Art of Storytelling: Easy Steps to Presenting an Unforgettable Story, John Walsh goes beyond simple instruction, yet it is very simple and easy to follow along. He gives in depth techniques on crafting a memorable story yet sticks with the basic tools storytellers need. It’s philosophical yet practical. My kind of book all the way.

The bonus section at the end is definitely worth going through. His Bible Telling program sounds fascinating and I look forward to delving more into it.

Masters of a craft are who I seek to learn from. John Walsh is certainly one.

Brilliant Hopelessness

When I read classic secular literary fiction, I’m just as awed as anyone by the brilliant prose, the twist of sentences that paint such a realistic picture of life. What I’m not awed by often is the ending. It’s brilliant. And utterly hopeless. Something like, “Blow out your candle, sweet sister. There’s nothing left for you.” It took some years of eye rolling at art that’s so deep with emotions supposedly conveyed before I finally understood. When looked at it from the right angle, whether it’s prose, painting, or a very unique sculpture, their depressing work is stunning in the message it conveys. They may be showing such ugly truth in human nature, the average person overlooks it. Who wants to see the ugliness in themselves and the world? But it’s truth.

But it’s also hopeless. That’s why as these artist pursue their mission of showing people how wretched they are, how there’s nothing to live for in this life and we should all give it up, the artist themselves spiral deeper into the pit of despair they project everyone to be in. In their mind, it’s not them who are off base. It’s the observers. The observers are the pretenders, the ones who want to skip along through life as if there’s actual meaning and beauty to it.

I’m not speaking about artists in general (hey, I’m an literary artist). This is about the ones that you walk away from their work feeling dirty and depressed. You’ve seen something of yourself in their work, something you didn’t think anyone would ever see. And that’s what the artist wanted. They dug under your skin and exposed the raw truth of your human nature.

Brilliant hopelessness.

But there is hope!

My way of shouting this from the rooftops is the same as those who shout the opposite message. Through art. My tool is words, spoken and written. My message? When all pretentions of “living a good life” are stripped away, the only hope comes through Jesus Christ. Because without Him, I’d be one of those artists trying to convince the world there really wasn’t anything to this life. It would take some years, but I could see myself finally abandoning the mission to drugs, alcohol, and despair. So has been the fate of many brilliant artists. (Not saying I’m brilliant, of course)

Hope is a basic survival requirement. Humans can live an average of three months without hope.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16 (KJV)

Where does your hope lie? Please share it with me in the comments.