Pamela King Cable's Blog, page 5

What's The Highlight Of The Week, Pray Tell?

Sometimes I don't know if I'm comin' or goin' ... the days fly by and every once in a while I get a glimpse of where I want to be ... Today, Charlene Wilson honored me by her interview. It's the featured Highlight of the Week. http://highlightedauthor.com/2013/01/welcome-pamela-king-cable/  Charlene's book blog is a thing of beauty (in this writer's opinion) and it made me take a look back at just how far I've traveled on this journey. Where I've come from ... where I'm going ...







I've traveled thousands of miles ... navigated many cities and hundreds of small towns ...







from coast to coast ...







I've stood on every type of landscape, spoken to well over 200 groups in every type of venue, been on TV and radio, and have had my picture taken with some well-known authors, agents, and editors.






 

But one thing never ceases to astound me. One thing stands out in my mind as the crux of real achievement. Something no writer can do without. It is the one thing critical to a writer's success. I've discovered it takes more than the natural talent of a great storyteller. It takes more than knowing your craft like you know your name. It's not about how many writing conferences you rack up in a year, or the prestigious contacts you've made. It has nothing to do with social media, or landing an agent, or a book contract. Degrees, awards, accolades, and TV interviews ... none of it means a thing, without this one thing. One vital attribute. Humility.

  

I've always said a writer can live without a lot of things. Courage isn't one of them. Humility, my friend, is the other.

 

There's nothing wrong with taking pride in your work. But you've got to look back. See how far you've come, in order to know where you're going. Without a humble spirit, you can't help others. You can't pay it forward, and you've got to pay it forward. Kindness, a gentle spirit, and the ability to be truly thankful each and every time someone puts you and your work on their blog, web site, and facebook page. Every time somebody mentions you, or says something kind or good about your work it's not always possible to thank them all, but in your heart you better offer up a word of thanks. You must. He knows the intent of our hearts, He knows. And I have to believe it's the secret to success.

 

Without humility you won't stay on top long. You won't even see the top that few have seen.  You'll ride a wave, but it'll take you out to sea and drop you into a cold ocean, instead of setting your feet firmly on a golden shore.

 

So for me, this week ... the Highlight of the Week http://highlightedauthor.com/2013/01/welcome-pamela-king-cable/ is an honor, but it's also a humbling experience. Any success I experience is due to the hundreds of folks who have cheered me on and the thousands of readers who have taken a chance and bought the book. For that, I'm eternally grateful. And forever ... humbled.

 

Blessings to you and yours.

Vows To Last A Lifetime

Ten years ago TODAY, I married my best friend. A man of integrity, wisdom, and strength for the both of us. There's not a lot more to say, that I haven't already said about him on my blog and on Facebook. So, I'll just quote myself.



From the acknowledgements in Televenge ...




And last but never least, I want to
thank Michael Cable. If it had not been for your unfailing love and unswerving
patience there would be no Televenge . None of this could
have been possible had you not picked me out of the miry clay many years ago
and given me this whole new wonderful life. Your constant devotion made it
possible for me to be a writer. Not once in over ten years did you complain of
my endless hours of writing. Your uncompromising belief in me is mind-boggling,
and your sacrifice epitomizes what it means to love me as Christ loves the
church. Thank you for never allowing me to give up. With you, I found
unconditional love and the true meaning of the word, husband. I’m
grateful to be made from your rib, a man of extraordinary integrity, insight,
and strength, the vessel through whom God has chosen to love me in ways I never
thought possible. There are no words.

 

 



 

To Hold Time In Your Hands

I've been antiquing all week-end. One of my favorite things to do ... as a writer. Michael and I took a quick trip to Columbus to visit with our daughter. Among the things we love in Columbus (besides eating in fabulous Columbus restaurants) is to hunt the best antique shops.



Antique shops are a place where the writer can connect with history up close and personal. I'm not talking about expensive antique furniture. It's the little things that set my soul on fire. Vintage linens and jewelry, a set of tin canisters from the 1950s, hats and purses from the 1920s, quilts, book ends and of course, old books. My mind wanders while the stories percolate under my skin. I'm usually itching to start writing after a weekend of antique and thrift store shopping.



Sunday we discovered an antique mall where someone had collected thousands of old postcards from every city in Ohio. People communicated via postcards from the late 1800s until they installed telephones in the 1930s and 40s. To me, postcards were the first form of TEXTING. It was a way to send a "quick" message to Auntie in the next town or state.



It cost a one cent stamp to send a post card. All the cards in the bins were addressed in a simple fashion. Miss Bella Juhn, Mansfield, Ohio. Somehow, it magically arrived in Miss Bella's mailbox. No house number, no zip code. The Mansfield postman just knew where Miss Bella lived.



Amazing.



Sifting through those postcards, I wanted to spend the day reading each and every fascinating one of them. My daughter bought three to frame. Each card cost from one to two dollars. Can you imagine what the sender of that postcard would think if they knew we paid two dollars for their penny postcard?



I bought only one. One that begged me to take it home. The card was postmarked Wooster, Ohio, July 24, 2:30 p.m., 1909 from a man to his sister in Mansfield. It reads as follows:



Dear Sister,

I got your card this morning. It was a beauty. Well I am trying to be good but I can't, so I'll just be careful and let it go at that. I heard a lot of darkies sing last night. They were wonderful. It was the Ferguson Jubilee Singers. I never laughed so hard in my life. Goodbye, your brother.



A simple note from a brother to his sister in a town about forty miles away. Communicating was by telegraph or post. Or showing up unannounced. His sister had told him to "be good." Hmmm. I can imagine an entire scene based on that one sentence. And of course the word "darkies" caught my eye. As if it was normal to say. The other side of the card is an old picture of some park in Wooster, Ohio that no longer exists. It's a housing development now.



Holding this piece of history in my hands, my fingers tingle. Any old picture, like the one above, is packed full with story. Old books, photographs, postcards, letters, and maps--an abundant supply of story. Mixing the real of the past with fiction is a calling for some. It's up to the writer to pull it out and make something beautiful out of it.



Blessings to you and yours.

Oh, To Be A Balanced Writer

This is me. Speaking to a large group of readers. It's part of what I do. But it's not really who I am. Although I enjoy speaking in public, I'm a writer who speaks. Not a speaker who writes.

 

Writers must find comfort in
their own work. In what they write. Even a small amount. Agreed, we must first be a reader to become a good writer
... but sometimes ... it's good to pick up your own work and read it. For the
fun of it. For the comfort of it. Don't try to rewrite what's already published, just enjoy it as a reader. Here's why:

 

Perfection is an impossibility. During the writing process, you can strive for it, but obsessing over perfection is like trying to walk on water. You're not Jesus. Believe me, when I say I struggle with perfection. To the point that it's painful.



We're constantly bombarded
and overwhelmed by the industry and it's changes. By the plethora of writing
information on the Internet, social media, and every new book published on
writing. At some point in your career, you feel as though you must read and
study it all.



It's impossible.



What gives a writer a leg up?
Is it a degree and a fancy teaching position? A long list of popular published
books by Random House? A presenter spot on writing conference rosters across
the country, proving your expertise to the wannabes?



It looks good on a resume.
I'll give you that. It may even raise a few literary eyebrows when it appears
on your book proposal or query.



But is it enough? Is it a
guarantee of success?



Writers must maintain.
Although some well-knowns are continually guaranteed a spot on bestseller lists, you're probably not one of them. (You know who these folks are.) Early in
their career they blew straight to the top, selling thousands and making millions. They made their publishers rich. So they're guaranteed those
coveted bestseller spots, resting on bitter laurels. Amazingly
enough, readers feel safe spending their book money on yet another novel by ...
well ... you know the Walmart list. Costco. Kmart. Walgreen's. Target.



Other than the Walmart
author, how many writers are secure in their career direction?



Few, if any.



So where does that leave us?



The apostle Paul said to be
content in every situation. Can we attain even a measure of contentment on our
journey to publish?



We must be content to just
... write.



I'm not saying don't bother
studying the industry. Not at all. But don't be consumed by it. At some point
you must trust that someone else has your back. Someone of your choosing must
take the reins, fill in the gaps, and help you once the book is written. You
can't do it all. It's impossible. And stop feeling guilty about it. Unless you
have some well-deserved help, that slippery thing we call publicity is going to
slip through the cracks. You're a writer. You need to research, outline, and
write that next book. Doesn't matter if you self-publish or have landed a
contract with one of the Big 6. (Or is it 5 now?) You've got to find a trusted
individual who will make the connections with your agent, editors, reporters,
and book those appearances for you.



You're only one person, after
all. Quit whining about it.



This morning, I found comfort
in the pages of Televenge. Other than reading in public from chosen
chapters, it's been a while since I've flipped through the chapters and
randomly read from my own book. I found a great deal of comfort there as I
recalled the struggle for finding the right word, and how I cried at the end of
certain scenes or when finishing that first draft. It all came back
to me, the journey of that book. The warm feelings of security in knowing ...
I'm a writer.



I'm well aware of the push
for writers to "get out there and build that platform!" Well, yeah.
It's a necessary evil. We got to work our tail off. Right. Heard it. Something
we're destined for, like it or not. So you might as well buck up. You must meet your readers. Get out there and speak, no excuses, on social media sites and
up close and personal. Which is why this profession is not for everybody who
thinks they have a book in them. But at some point, we got to find a balance.



We have to hold on to those
words ... I write.



And be at peace.



Blessings to you and yours.

I WRITE

 
In Kathryn Stockett's novel, The Help, when Stuart asks Skeeter, "What do you do with your time?" she answers emphatically, "I write."



I wonder what went through Kathryn's mind when she wrote those two words. I write.



It's the second day of the new year, and yesterday on the first day of the new year, I pulled the covers over my head and screamed ... "NO MORE! I'M SICK OF IT. I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!!!"



Can we get real, here? Can we stop with the cutesy blogs and read something real? Can I write my heart this morning without backlash? Without somebody thinking I'm wallering in self-pity? Because I really just want to write what I'm feeling today, without pretense. Without agenda. Without that forced smile we all know so well.



Time to hash out a few words and see if anybody out there ... relates.



Every day I read all the wonderful blogs by other writers. Encouragement abounds. Positive messages and quotes and anecdotes fill the Internet. Every time I open my email, it's overflowing with writers, editors, bloggers, literary agents ... some folks I know, others I don't ... all telling me what to do and what not to do to be successful in the new year. It makes me wonder. How many of them have given up at some point. Just chucked in the towel and said ... enough. Enough of this bullshit.



The market is over-saturated. It reminds me of Noah and the ark. Only a select few are hand-picked by the "publishing gods" to travel on the ark, while the rest of us tread water, pound on the doors, and scream to be heard.



Now ... God knows ... I'm grateful. For every positive review of Televenge. For every letter of love and support. There have been many. I'm thankful for those who have expressed encouragement on my behalf and continue to do so. I'm not talking about that. That's not what this post is about. But the journey with Televenge as my debut novel has also taught me a few new things about the industry. The biggest is that although I've been a writer since I was a bitty girl, a full-time writer since 2003, the struggle is FAR from over.



In fact, I feel as if I've bounced along this pioneer trail on a wagon train heading west for over a decade. I've nearly drowned crossing the Mississippi, manuevered through a few prarie fires, and fought off one too many Pawnee with only a double-barrel and a fast horse. And now ... I'M STANDING AT THE BASE OF THE DAMN ROCKY MOUNTAINS.



I thought, at least, I would get a glimpse of home. How the hell do I get over this mountain?



It's enough to send a body under the covers.



Through all the unfairness within this industry, it doesn't matter. Not anymore. There's plenty of broken dreams out there. An abundance of struggling writers pounding on the ark. What is it that will set some of us apart? The story of a lifetime? The perfect editor/agent/publisher/book deal/book tour? Thousands of Facebook friends and Twitter followers? When the moon/stars/plants all line up?



None of the above.



The answer is simple. To get out of bed every morning, and write. To not think about the outcome or the awards or those who have let you down. The answer is to put social media on the back seat of the bus, and your butt in the driver seat. To do the one thing God has called you to do.



I'm a writer. It's what I do. The unvarnished truth is after all the new year resolutions are made and broken, after all the glass half-fulls are put to bed, I'm still wagon-training.



This morning I woke up and realized ... I can't go back. I've come too far. What is it that makes me get out of bed? What is it?



I write.



It's just that simple.



Blessings to you and yours.

In Anticipation Of A New Year

It's the last day of 2012 ... New Years Eve, and I can't help but think this year went by like the flash of my old Kodak Instamatic. And the problem is ... we can't get a second of it back. Or maybe that's a good thing depending on how you look at it.



All the things we wish we would've said, could've done, should've prioritized ... to late now.



I spent the first part of the year deep in the final few edits of Televenge and working with my publisher and publicist to launch my debut novel. And it feels like the year was absorbed with Televenge . The launch, the book tour, the blog tour, facebook, twitter, blogging, and talking to hundreds of people ... the publicity train never stops for me. I won't be getting off this sucker for quite a while.



In the meantime, I'm nearly finished with final edits of the third book, and I've already researched and outlined the fourth. Where it's heading is a guess, I just know I'm writing and loving these new stories. Funny, how you think the book you just published was the "book I was born to write" when the one you're working on is every bit as absorbing. I'm thrilled with the process, once again, and feel myself changing as a writer. In a good way ... at least I hope so. At least you never stop learning.



Many things happened this year with family and friends, good, bad, and not so good ... but the one thing my body continually reminds me of is that ... I'm another year older. Having fought the good fight with my husband's breast cancer, we endured three surgeries this year. And yet I have to say, it was still a great year. We beat the breast cancer, and after two cataract surgeries, Michael can now see again. "Magic eyes," we call them. Having great friends to support us, we couldn't have been more blessed.



I'm looking forward to 2013. Thirteen is my lucky number. I was born on the 13th. So, we shall see what the new year brings ... I'm hoping for specifics this year. I have a battle plan. I have a list, in fact.



But right now ... at this moment ... I just want to say thank you. To my readers, to all those who stood behind Michael and I during 2012. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. God only knows where I'd be without your love and support.



So, however you bring in the new year, drinking cheap champagne, rocking out in front of the TV and imagining you're in Times Square, or sleeping in a warm bed ... just know I'm wishing you the best year ever. And I mean it. I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again ...



BLESSINGS TO YOU AND YOURS IN 2013!

Why It's Hard For An Author To Give An Honest Book Review

 






I don't give book reviews unless it's a four or five-star review. I don't even like to give four-star reviews. For obvious reasons.



As an author myself, to give anything less than a great review is ludicrous. I mean, who the hell do I think I am?  ...



But c'mon ... writers are constantly reading. When we aren't writing, we're reading. And lately, I've read some pretty awful stuff. But can I say what? Of course not. I'm not that stupid.



You can be sure, when I review a book, it's because it's fabulous and in my review, I'm sincere, meaning every word.



I love a great read, stuff you haven't seen before, the kind of book that roots in my soul, creating great vines of tangled prose I will never escape from. Godamighty, it's the stuff legends are made of ... great stories to soothe the mind of the tormented and stir the rage of the stoic. There's nothing better than a life-changing story. I've read a few in my life that remain close to me to this day.



But back to the "terrible-awful". (Love those words from Kathryn Stockett's novel, The Help) ... I recently spent a couple days with my nose in a novel that was heralded as one of the top five of 2012. And I'm not talking about 50 Shades of Gray. That's the one exception I made earlier this year, and I won't waste another breath on it. The novel I'm talking about was recommended to me by numerous friends and so, I bought it and could not for the life of me, get through the first 100 pages. I gave it 100 pages and stopped. Ugh. I was so disappointed and figured it's just me. Me. Everybody loves this. There's something wrong with me.



So I read ten more pages, stopped, took out my book marker, and put it back on my shelf. I wish I could say why I didn't like it, but it would give it away ... so I'll just leave it at that.



Writers, authors -  we cannot give honest book reviews. Not of the books we don't like. It's makes us look haughty. Prideful. Like a Kardashian at a country club. Nose in the air know-it-all.



And I'm not so ignorant to think everyone will love everything I write. That's the beauty of books. There's something for everybody.



As an author, it's just not a good idea to be anything other than humble. If I don't have something nice to say about another author's work, I don't say anything at all. Raised by a southern mother, it was the code she lived by. A code I've passed down to my own daughter.



If I'm asked to critique a manuscript, that's between me and the writer ... but once the book is published, then as an author myself, it's best left to the readers to judge. Not me. I live in a glass house. I never throw stones.



Blessings to you and yours.

Oh, To Change The World With Love!

It's been a rough week. One day after I was on Fox News Radio, the nation was suddenly thrown into mourning over the loss of innocent children. My mind has been burdened with this tragedy, and I'm finding it hard to concentrate on little else. Christmas has taken a different turn for me. As a grandmother of three, ages 5, 3, and 2 ... I can't seem to wrap my mind around what has happened and the questions are raging.



Nevertheless ... I've decided to post the podcast today, because the message behind it is about love. And kindness. And decency. And loving our neighbors.



Vipp Jaswal has honored me by asking me to once again appear on his highly-rated radio show from New York City, along with Robin Whitley, a pastor who wrote In a Southern Closet . Vipp is an amazing man whom I've grown to know and respect as one of the top men in the media. His soothing voice is like being comforted by a good parent. I can't express enough how appreciative I am that he has requested me to return to his show.



I hope you enjoy this podcast. A subject that will stir the emotion. God Loves You Just The Way You Are.
http://foxrad.io/5iY



Blessings to you and yours.

Is Love A Basic Human Right?

"Where, after all, do universal human
rights begin? In small places, closest to home, so close and so small that they
cannot be seen on any map of the world. Yet they are the world of the
individual person: The neighborhood he lives in; the school or college he
attends; the factory, farm or office where he works. Such are the places where
every man, woman, and child seeks equal justice, equal opportunity, equal
dignity without discrimination. Unless these rights have meaning there, they have
little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close
to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world." Eleanor
Roosevelt


A quote by a great woman. A quote near and dear to my heart.



Today I'm about to go on the Vipp Jaswal Show for the second time, Fox News Radio in New York City. I'm honored to be asked back, to say the least. But this time it's an extremely controversial subject. One that seems to hit many Christians smack between the eyes. Unless they avoid talking about it altogether, they're growing more militant regarding this subject by the day, it seems. I have decided to be a voice crying in the wilderness, taking the road less traveled. Such has been my life.



But it also seems that God has given me a podium. Handed me a microphone and said, "I'm giving you the opportunity to speak to the world." Opportunities like this come along but few times in one's lifetime.



Courage. A word I find that follows me like a shadow.



I’m not out to convert or convince, however. What you believe is your right. I don’t care what you believe, frankly. My message
is one of decency, kindness, and of moral courage. I believe Christ’s message
was about love, forgiveness, kindness, and compassion. Basic human rights. Sometimes, we just have to be reminded.



So, stay tuned. I'll post the link in the next couple days.



Blessings to you and yours.

For The Love Of The Book

I heard an interesting conversation the other day. An independent bookstore owner said he was sick and tired of folks coming into his store just to check out what they can buy on Amazon.



Really. Who does that?



Why do people use the bookstore as a showroom for Amazon? Well, the answer is simple. Price. And unfortunately, the "look inside" feature on Amazon is not enough for some folk. They like to see the book first. Sounds crazy, but it's true.



Unless, of course, you buy e-books. But that's another story.



Just like everything else, the cost of a book has gone up. I had to sympathize with the store owner, and yet we all know it's a dying business. Personally, I love the bookstore experience. Browsing, taking my time to leaf through books, the smell of coffee, the soft chair to sit and read a chapter or two. Discovering a new author and buying that debut novel! I love it. And I've begun to use Amazon as a place to find books I want to buy in bookstores. It's my own personal fight to keep the brick and mortar stores alive as long as possible.



I remember when my publisher was debating on whether or not to make my novel, Televenge , a hardback or trade. Hardback novels, especially for debut novels, are "prestigious" and supposed to show a certain amount of "class" for the author. It's been said that some of the bigger book reviewers won't even review a trade. But these times ... they are a-changin'.



Televenge in hardback would've cost upward to around $35.00. It's 580 pages, after all. My concern ... I wanted people to buy it! Some readers only have so much money in their book budget. So we decided on trade paperback, at the low cost of $19.95. What a deal. And I still got reviewed by The Library Journal and Publishers Weekly.



You've heard me say it before, but I love the feel and smell of paper and ink. A book you can hold in your hands, whether old or new, is a wondrous thing. That's not to say that e-books aren't great, because they are. They've got their place and lots of folks love them. But the entire bookstore experience is what I'm talking about today. Before it all goes away, like Blockbuster video and Woolworth's, enjoy your time in your nearest independent bookstore. Buy birthday, Christmas, and Mother's Day gifts from your local book merchant. Browse the store, notice the little things, the smells, the feel of the books, the light in the room, burn it into your memory. Because one day, that's all it will be. A memory.



Blessings to you and yours.