Joshua Graham's Blog, page 19

DARKROOM Launches Today!

Well, today is the day I've been waiting for for all my life as a writer.  This is the day my first book published by a major house (DARKROOM, Howard Books/Simon & Schuster) was released.

There's been a lot of excitement over the release on facebook and twitter, with numerous positive reviews from bloggers, review sites, and even major news outlets.

It's been hard to keep up with everything, but I wanted to make sure I lived this day according to my faith.  So I started with waking up early to go to a 6AM prayer meeting at my church in which many businesspeople gathered to encourage and pray for one another.  I love praying for people because during those times, many scriptures stored up in my heart come to life, and seem to apply to their circumstances.  When that happens, something wonderful occurs.  It starts with a change in their countenance, knowing not only that someone is praying for and with them, but that God is with them, and speaking to them through His word (the Bible) and through His people.  (For those who are not of any particular faith, please bear with me as I talk shop a bit, thanks!)  In praying for others, I find myself edified as well.  One can hardly help from experiencing this because:  1) When you pray for others, you take the focus off of your own life and concerns and 2) when you pray for others in faith, you become a conduit for the almighty.  Some of it's going to get into your system too.

Anyway, afterwards I came home, helped get the kids ready for and sent them off to school.  I was tempted to go straight to my computer and check on everything.  But then, I decided that I would dedicate this day to The One who made this all possible, from 4 years ago till now.  I got into the Bible (as I usually do) and then knelt down in prayer giving thanks for the wonders He's done in my life and the life of my family, during this 7 year exodus to what we believe will be our "promised land."

And before I even turned on my computer, I remembered that one should "Honor the Lord with your possessions, and with the firstfruits of all your increase." So I went to my church's website and paid my tithe (before it slipped my memory.)

Now, I was ready to go online and see what was happening.  The outpouring of well wishes from my friends on facebook, emails from people from my team at Howard Books, and other friends touched me deeply.  I am sitting alone with Kangadog right now, but I feel anything but alone.

So, I wanted to say THANK YOU to all my friends, fans, and colleagues.  Thanks f0r sharing this special day with me and making it enjoyable.  I can't wait to see you all at the Online Launch Party tonight!

DARKROOM ONLINE LAUNCH PARTY MAY 1ST 2012! You’re Invited!

To kick off the release of my new book DARKROOM, were' going to celebrate all across the world with an Online Launch Party, streaming live over the internet!

Hope you can attend.  There will be many fantastic prizes for those who attend.  Please mark your calendars and plan to join us!

 

A Matter of Perspective

perspective  (pəˈspɛktɪv)
— n
1.
a way of regarding situations, facts, etc, and judging their relative importance

Judge not, lest ye be judged

Have you ever had this experience?

 

You're waiting somewhere public like--oh, I don't know, DMV or something--and someone near you is acting incredibly rude and inconsiderate.  (Hold on, before you all jump and raise your hands, don't answer just yet, because we're not focusing on that person, we're focusing on you.)  Right away, you shake your head and start thinking of a million things you want to say to him/her, but you prefer not to make a scene.  And confrontationion is just not something you have the patience for.

So instead,as this "rude" person continues to annoy you, you start to think thoughts.

Not kind ones.

That guy was probably never taught manners.  Who does she think she is?  Must be more fun than a barrel of monkeys being married to him!

Sometimes, you feel a little better about the situation, having poked him in the head--in your mind.  The operative phrase: "a little."  But more often than not, as you stew over this person imposing her rudeness all over everyone (not the least of whom...YOU), all you want to do is justify your angry thoughts towards them.

 

Jerk.
Uneducated.
Riff-raff.
Punk.
Witch with a Capital B

 

Terms you've likely expressed verbally, if not telepathically.

At the end of the experience, you've done one of two things: 1) Given Mr. or Ms. Rude a piece of your mind, or 2) suffered in silence, almost as angry at yourself for not standing up for yourself and what's right.

Either way, there's a good chance that you're not feeling satisfied with the experience.  If that's the case, have you ever wondered why?  Does this person remind you of things you don't like about yourself?  Maybe not directly, but at the very least, he reminds you that people are all less than perfect.

But how well do you really know this person?  In this DMV example, not at all.  But even with those with whom we're very familiar, or even think we know very well, there's always more than meets the eye (our own perspective.)  Understanding this can make the difference between being indignant and full of grace.

Let me tell you a story I once heard.

It was the end of an endless week when Margaret  got on a commuter bus which took its passengers clear across town.  A twenty minute ride, which for her quickly became uncomfortable.  As she sat there, trying to read her magazine, a constant thumping on the back of her chair kept jarring her.

She turned around and saw a boy, about four years old standing on his seat, looking out the window, jumping up and down, kicking her seatback, and his toddler brother sitting on their father's lap.  Each of them took turns kicking the back of the ladies chair as though they'd just discovered a new game: "Kick the old lady's chair."

She was about to say something, when the older boy made eye contact.  He smiled sheepishly and they stopped.

Fine.  At least they know they were bothering her.

Back to her magazine.

Not 30 seconds later, the thumping continued.  Margaret waited patiently and counted to ten, hoping it would stop before she had to turn around and say something.

8...9...10...11...12...13!

She turned around and gave them a sharp look.  "Please stop that."

The boys looked a bit surprised, and quickly obeyed.  They settled down seeming sincere in their intentions.  Margaret looked over to their father, who just stared out the fogged window.  Rain drops dotted the glass and slid down like tears from heaven.

Or sweat from Hell.

Never mind, Margaret thought.  If he's not going to say anything to his children, then it's going to be his fault when he can't control them later in life.  People of that sort deserve the rotten kids they end up with because they don't discipline them.  That's what you get for sparing the rod...a spoiled child.

She turned back to her magazine, ready to spring the moment the next kick in the seatback came.

Barely had she touched the page when a loud squeal of laughter pierced the air,  followed by the heaviest thump of all.  The entire seatback lurched forward and knocking the magazine out of her hand.

Without hesitation, she stood up, went to the aisle seat behind her row and jabbed a finger at the father's shoulder.  He was still staring out the window as his two little primates bounced around tickling each other.

"Sir?....SIR!"

He turned around and squinted at her.  "Yes?"  He seemed dazed.  Probably hitting the bottle hard.  And to think, he's dragging children around while he's drunk!

"You had better get your boys under control.  Or hadn't you noticed?"

The words seemed to sink in because his face twitched a little.  His eyes widened momentarily as though surprised.  Then, finally getting it, he put his hand on his older son's shoulder and gestured for him to sit down.  Then he held his younger son tight on his lap, almost rewarding him with affectionate hugs.

Of course.  Coddling the little brats is why they're behaving that way.

"You know, you really should try to discipline your children.  Such behavior!"

He sniffed wetly and to her surprise, a single tear rolled down his face when he looked up to answer.   "I'm really sorry, I must not have been paying attention.  You see, we're just coming back from the hospital.  They're mother just passed away, and they don't really understand what's happened. I still don't know how to break it to them.  But I've been praying for strength because when we get home, I'm going to have to tell them they won't be seeing their Momma any more."

#  #  #

There's always more to a person's behavior than meets the eye.  The next time you or I feel tempted to rush to judgment when something is "clearly" wrong with another person, let's take a moment to see if we can't extend some grace.  If we knew the whole story, there's a chance we might act differently.

I'd love to hear from you, please use the comment section or the contact button.

The Truth is Stranger Than…

This photo and the photographer's commentary inspired the epitaph in the opening pages of my novel DARKROOM.

"I won a Pulitzer Prize in 1969 for a photograph of one man shooting another. Two people died in that photograph: the recipient of the bullet and GENERAL NGUYEN NGOC LOAN. The general killed the Viet Cong; I killed the general with my camera. Still photographs are the most powerful weapon in the world. People believe them, but photographs do lie, even without manipulation. They are only half-truths."  --Eddie Adams, Photographer

Read more here at TIME Magazine.

Adams, who believed Brig. Gen. Loan's contention that the man he shot had just murdered a friend of his, a South Vietnamese army colonel, as well as the colonel's wife and six children. "How do you know you wouldn't have pulled the trigger yourself?" Adams would later write in a commentary on the image.

Often the media puts things together in ways that have little to do with the truth.  Impressions are fabricated for various agendas, and unfortunately most are created to boost the ratings with sensationalism.  But what happens when the truth is distorted or even buried completely?  And what happens if the contained truth is uncovered?

This is not just a global concern, but a personal one as well.  Do we try to cover up our weaknesses and failures at the expense of authenticity or integrity?  We cry foul when politicians and elected officials are caught doing this, but do we ever ask how we are doing the very same thing, in our own personal lives?

Constantly looking over your shoulder, trying to contain a secret that no one must ever know has got to be one of the worst prisons anyone can face, especially because it is self-imposed.  There's a reason why the scriptures say, "The truth shall set you free."  And this is what DARKROOM is all about.

Take a moment to examine yourself and see if you're sitting in a self-imposed cell.  And consider the freedom you'll enjoy because of the truth.

Please click LIKE and share this if this article spoke to you.  Thanks!

Character is…

Go ahead, fill in the blank:  Character is _____________

Did you ever ponder this question?  Is character defined by what you do, what you wear, how you speak, the things you believe in?

Or is it defined by whom you associate with, your socio-economic background?

These are questions I have to ask every times I create a character for my books, and yes, I need to know all of the above factors.  And yet, knowing all these things about a character (or a person in real life) still doesn't tell me about that person's true character.  A person's hair color, hobbies, loves and hates, beliefs, education, job, family, constitutes their characteristics, or in the literary field, "characterization," but not their true character.

Let me give you a quick fiction example that I'm going to make up right here on the spot.

Janice Christopher is a loud and vociferous woman, a name partner in a high profile law firm.  You can often find her barking orders at her associates and junior partners and demanding that things be done her way and 24 hours prior to any given deadline.  You don't ever talk back to Janice, except to say, "Yes. Right away."  Anyone foolish enough to challenge her, or even hint at disagreeing has found themselves fired on the spot.

Janice locks herself in her windowless office, but can still be heard yelling at people on the phone through her solid oak door with a polished brass plaque with her initials JC solemnly engraved.

When asked if she'd like to make charitable contributions to non-profit orgs, she quickly snaps, "There's no such thing as a free lunch!  I worked my butt off to get to where I am now.  Damned if I'm going to enable any feeble minded organizations to become dependent on companies that work for their revenues."

So, you think you know Janice's true character, right?  It seems pretty clear.  Let's dig a bit deeper.

On the way home from work one day, Janice makes a left turn and drives past a rough part of town in which she and her car stick out like a daffodil in the midst of the twisted wreckage of a plane crash.  All through the neighborhood, homeless people fill the sidewalk.  Tempted to step harder on the accelerator, she tries not to look.  But the little girl with a begrimed face and red pigtails twirls around and dances around her mother, who clutches a baby to her breast and rocks back and forth with a face crinkled from fatigue.  The little girl, who cannot be more than six years old, stops twirling, waves and smiles at Janice.  Only then does Janice fully realize that she's stopped the car and pulled over.

Janice gets out of her car, and goes over to meet the young girl.  "Hi Megan."

"Hi."

Janice nods to the disheveled woman nursing the baby., wrapped in filthy rags.  "Is that...?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"When did they arrive?"

Megan shrugs.  "I forgot."

The woman makes eye contact with Janice and quickly lowers her gaze as though frightened and ashamed.  Right away, the Cartier wrist watch and the Gucci hand bag grow uncomfortably heavy.  "Megan, do you know how long she'll be here?"

"Mommy says they kicked her out."  She smiles, revealing blackened and missing teeth.  "But I'm happy now.  I don't have to come out here by myself everyday."

With hurried steps and a watchful eye on Megan's mother and baby brother, Janice goes to open the trunk of her her BMW.  She drops her handbag inside, grabs a milk crate heavy with packages and lugs it over to Megan's mom.  By now, about six other homeless people gather, all grinning wide, and talking at the same time.

"Hi Ms. Janice!"

"Yo JC!"

"Oh, it's you again."

"Wassup, Mama?"

Kneeling, Janice sets the crate on the ground and turns to  Megan.  "Help me out, please?"

"Okay." Megan takes each shopping bag from her hands which contain bottle water, granola bars, toilet tissue, and other supplies and passes them out to the members of the crowd, excitedly receiving them.  Some say thanks, others just walk away.  Janice really doesn't care, she's focused on Megan's mom, who still wont lift her chin.  She can almost sense the shame that must fill her heart.

Finally, Janice reaches out with caution and gently places her hand on Mrs. Riley's shoulder.  Stays there for a few seconds until the back and forth rocking subsides.  "Mrs. Riley?"

Nothing.

For a while, time stands still.  Without a word, without even a look from this woman who though probably in her thirties looks as life-worn as an octagenarian, by her demeanor, Janice senses that dark dread she knows all to well from her childhood days back in Paradise.  Though she'd never told anyone, she'd come to New York from California years ago to escape the pain.  And now, here it was again, not quite staring her in the face.  An old acquaintance whom she'd hoped never to meet again.  If this acquaintance had been a person, she could have slapped a restraining order on him and done everything within her power to keep him far away.

But no.  There was no stopping him.

When she felt it was all right to do so, Janice slid her hand under the tangled bangs draped over Mrs. Riley's face.  Megan resumed twirling and singing the Smurf song, which--had it been anyone else at any other time--would have made Janice shout, "Shut the hell up, Kid!"

Not this time.

Janice pushed the greasy hair back over Mrs. Riley's ear, then gently lifted her chin.

Mrs. Riley's eyes were red and marked with dark stains reminiscent of streaked masacara--but Janice knew it was dirt--gave her pathetic racoon eyes.  From her icy expression, Janice knew.

"Oh Sweety..."

Then the ice thawed, melting away with tears.  As the hardened shell dissolved it gave way to a very human person beneath.  Mrs. Riley wept silently, still rocking the baby back and forth at her breast under the scratchy wool blanket.

Tears welled up in Janice's eyes as well.  "How long?"

"Last night."

A thousand thoughts ran through Janice's mind.  If I'd only made a second run last night. If I'd been here when she got out...

Then abandoning any concern for her expensive clothes, personal hygiene, or anything else at all, Janice sat next to Mrs. Riley, whom she'd wanted to meet for the longest time, put her arms around her and wept with her for her dead baby.  In another life, when Janice had been a teen mother living alone, abandoned by that boy who styled himself a man, and had lost her six month old baby girl to SIDS, her unwelcome acquaintance, otherwise known as "Death" had paid her a visit as well.  And though she'd made the choice to leave all her pain behind, she could never quite be rid of Death's imparted gift of pathos.

Tomorrow, Janice would sell the firm, execute all her shares, and do what she'd vowed she would do since she was seventeen.

Open a shelter for homeless women with children.

 

Okay, that was just off the top of my head, but I was trying to make a point about character.  What did you  learn about Janice's character--not her characteristics or character traits?  Do you ever judge a person by their words, their personality--or lack thereof?  What then is character?

In STORY, by Robert McKee he states:

TRUE CHARACTER is revealed in the choices a human being makes under pressure--the greater the pressure, the deeper the revelation, the truer the choice to the character's essential nature.

 

The next time you're tempted to simply write someone off as a "jerk" or worse, because they were rude, or they offended you, try to keep in mind the definition of character.  And the next time you find yourself faced with a difficult situation, remember, the choice you make, that to which you commit your actions, will determine your character.  Not your feelings, not your emotions, or likes and dislikes.  Your choices, beyond the latter, is what defines your character.

You always have a choice about how to respond to a situation.  And let me tell you how you can take control of your destiny.

It all starts in your mind.

Your thoughts affect your words.

Your words affect your actions.

Your actions affect your habits.

Your habits affect your character.

Your character affects your destiny.

You are not your emotions, despite what pop psychology might try to tell/sell you.  You must be true to your principles, not your feelings.  Want a simple example of how you are not, and don't have to be controlled by your feelings?  Here you go:  You're having a huge fight with your spouse.  You're both yelling and saying things you hope no one will ever hear you say, outside of the privacy of your home.  Suddenly, the phone rings.  CallerID says it's your mother, the last person you want to know you're having a fight with your spouse because she will say, "I told you not to marry him/her."

Still furious, you pick up the phone, because you know she'll keep calling.  And what do you do?

You put on your pleasant face and answer  with a melodic voice, "Hi Mom!  Oh yeah, everything's just peachy!  Okay, gotta go... love you!"

Then back to the fight of the century.

Be honest, you know what that's like.  We've all been there.  The fact is, you always have a choice, and if the motivation is there,  there is always a way to control your speech and actions. For example, someone promises you a million dollars if you can make it through an entire month--video cameras everywhere--if you never say a negative thing.

How about destiny for a motivator?  Is that worth taking control of your emotions and doing what you know is right and good, rather than being a slave to your emotions?

Hey, I'm not advocating becoming a robot, or a Vulcan.  Emotions are a gift from above and make our lives rich and real.  But they are not the be all-end all of us.  They must be subject to truth and prudence and principle.  If you make the choice to make these your criteria for defining your character, you'll no longer be a slave to the ever changing tides of emotion.

Start with your thoughts and words.  About words?  It's been said that the tongue is like the rudder of a great ship.  Consider the size of a rudder in proportion to the ship in which it controls.  Now consider the whole flow chart above about how your words and thought ultimately direct your destiny.

It's good to know you always have a choice.

DARE TO DREAM

Remember when you were a child, and you believed you could fly if you just ran hard enough and leapt?  I’m not proposing you do anything like that might possibly  cause bodily harm, but I am asking you to consider what it was that allowed you to take that flying leap off that porch, or deck?  Was it ignorance?  Maybe just a little.  Was it foolishness?  Again, maybe a bit.  But I submit to you that it was something else.  Something that as you watched reality, grownups and negative people snuff out your dreams (some rightfully so), died within you.  Something that seemed a lot more fun than the harsh “reality” of life.

I’m talking about faith.

A wise person once said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  Of course, those are the words of Jesus Christ, and He knew what He was talking about.  Children have a way of believing that is so pure, and unfortunately taken advantage of.  As a result the harsh “realities” of life can strip that childlike faith and take with it so many of our God-given dreams.  Dreams embedded into our DNA, to carry out that for which we were made.

Why is it that so many people with “successful” careers find themselves bored, discontent, and depressed even after they’ve climbed the ladder, after they’ve earned their millions?  Are they spoiled?  Maybe.  But some of these people are not, and they’re really good people deep down who have worked hard to earn their success.  Might it not be that they are not doing what they were created to do?

It is written, “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” (Ephesians 2:10 NLT)

Happy is the one who understands what he or she has been designed to be and do, and walks in that purpose.

Haven’t you ever asked yourself, “Is there more to life than just making money and getting stuff?”  I know it’s difficult to ask this when you’re going through tough financial times, trust me.  But I also know that the question is valid whether you’re in need or in plenty.

I’d like you to ask yourself:  “What was I created to do and be?  Am I living that way?”

It may seem like a dream to you (dream career, dream life, etc.) but perhaps that’s only because it’s been so long since you imagined it.  May I humbly suggest that you study the blueprints of your life with the Master Designer who created them?

That’s what I’ve been doing ever since 2008, and my life has never been the same.  For the first time in my life, as a published writer, I can say I’m walking in my calling, my design, my destiny.

Do you have dreams that you’ve long given up on?  Dreams that you don’t dare revisit because of past disappointments and pain?  Bring them back to the Master Designer (God) and ask Him about it.  I truly believe that those who seek sincerely will find because “He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.”

As always, I welcome your feedback and questions.

Josh

I'd like to leave you with a very inspiring song and a video montage of a man who never gave up on his dreams

 

If you don't see the embedded video above, please click  HERE to view it on YouTube.com

"I Believe I Can Fly"

Lyrics by R. Kelly

I used to think that I could not go on
And life was nothing but an awful song
But now I know the meaning of true love
I'm leaning on the everlasting arms

If I can see it, then I can do it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door
I believe I can fly...

See I was on the verge of breaking down
Sometimes silence can seem so loud
There are miracles in life I must achieve
But first I know it starts inside of me, oh

If I can see it, then I can be it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

I believe I can fly...

Yesteryear: When I Wore a Different Hat

Some of you already know from my bio that prior to my work as an IT Professional, which preceded my career as a writer, I was a professional musician.  That's right.  I was a cellist who graduated from Juilliard with a Bachelor's and Master's degree, and a doctorate from Johns Hopkins University.  I've performed on the stages of Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, the Cairo Royal Opera House, and concert halls in Israel, South Africa, Jordan and Israel.  I've also taught as a professor of music in Western Maryland College, Columbia Union College, and Shepherd College (now Shepherd University) in West Virginia.

While I still play the cello now and then in recitals and on the worship band in church, I haven't played professionally for several years now.  Do I miss it?  Of course.  But you know, years ago music was so important to me that it made me miserable.   Even in my mid thirties I can remember my eroneous thinking that led to that misery.  I can remember thinking and declaring that "Music is not just what I do.  It's who I am!"  How wrong I was.  This led to obsessive practicing, trying to reach the level and fame of Yo-Yo Ma, and my hero Mstislav Rostropovich.  It's not wrong to strive for excellence, but when it overtakes one's thoughts and entire life's motivation, then it becomes something unhealthy.  Like an addiction.

This drive, however, came from a good place initially.  You see, when I was 15 years old, I decided that I wanted to become a professional cellist and there could be no other life/career for me.  It drove me to practice for 6-8 hours a day, miss meals, skip school and homework.  I had been an A-student before making my commitment to getting into Juilliard at the wise old age of 16. Now, consider this.  Most students who make it into Juilliard began their training around the age of 4 and were all wunderkinds.  I had started my cello lessons at the tender age of 14, and had about a decade of catching up to do.

Well, by hard work and God's providence, I made it into just about every music school for which I auditioned.

But that was not the future for which I'd been called.

Hard work and dedication was apparently not enough to make a successful career in music for me.  I started sensing that after I got married and my first child was born.  How could I possibly support my family on the unstable and scant salary I was making as a freelance musician and teacher?  When we moved from the East Coast to California to spend the last few years of my mother's life with her (she passed away from ALS), I left everything I knew, all my musical context and career behind.

But my wife and I felt led to do this, to honor my mother in her last years.

God led me into a career in Information Technology, which blessed us financially for almost 10 years.  But my musical career was all but over.  And yet, he replaced it with something so much better.  Note, I'm not talking about the writing yet.  The new role in which I found a greater passion than ever was that of a father.  It changed everything.  I soon realized that being a musician was something that I did for myself.  But being a father, at least trying to be  good father (and husband) is something I do for those whom I love more than anything, those for whom I would lay down my life.  I learned how to love unconditionally and found this new role more challenging and rewarding than anything I could imagine.

Fast forward about 8 or 9 years and the very career God gave me (I rose up to the position of Director of Operations) was taken away, along with the recent passing of my mother and mother in law (and my cat of 16 years.)  But with everything that is taken away, God gives us something greater. During this time of loss, I learned to trust God, to know Him and hear His quiet prompting.

To make a long story short, if He had not taken away my IT career, I might not be a published author today.

This is because during that time of unemployment, my family and I sensed a calling for me to write full time.  Not an easy thing to do when I had lost my job.  But while I did my due diligence of searching for another job, and after we sold our house and downsized to a rental, my book BEYOND JUSTICE was published and shortly after became a #1bestseller on Barnes & Noble, and subsequently on Amazon.  Then Simon & Schuster/Howard Books bought my book DARKROOM which will be coming out in just 10 days (May 1st).

You know, it's not just the money God provided through my writing that confirmed my calling.  It was through lots of prayer and faith as well.  But most of all, when my dear readers send me those encouraging emails telling me how much they were touched by my writing, and how it brought them peace, and even prompted them to consider a faith in God, I knew the same thing I felt when I became a husband and father.  I knew this was more than a job.  This was a calling.  Why?  Because I wasn't just doing it for myself.  Not for my glory, not for my own benefit.  But for God's glory, and hopefully to benefit, entertain, challenge and refresh the souls of my readers.  I always want to give you, my readers, a fresh perspective on eternal hope.  Yes, I mention God, Jesus, and the Bible a lot.  But I'm not a preacher, not trying to convert you to my "faith," because the choice is yours.   But I do want to show you a side of life that you might not ever have considered, even if you reject it.  Isn't it always best to know exactly what it is your rejecting before doing so?

Anyway, I spoke with Frank Peretti a few weeks ago and we talked about the many different hats we've both worn throughout the years.  We were both musicians, both sons of pastors, and worked at other kinds of day jobs before becoming published authors (by the way, if you haven't done so yet, you have GOT to check out his book ILLUSION, also published by Simon & Schuster/Howard Books).  We both agreed that we've never felt so much peace and joy as when we were doing what we were created to do and be: writers.

One day, God willing, I will perform again on a concert stage.  My wife won't let me off the hook on that one, bless her sweet heart.  I know God doesn't waste gifts and talents he's given to each human being.  But until that day, I am blessed and honored to be a writer and make music with words which I pray will touch you as much as music can.

For now, I leave you with my life verse:

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.  --Ephesians 2:10

Love and blessings,

Josh

PS: I'd like to share with you a couple of moments from some of my favorite performances, back in the day (not too long ago) as a way of sharing my heart with you. It's the same soul that goes into my writing. The streaming links are embedded into this post.

DARKROOM lands a “Top Pick” Review!

My publicist just sent this review of DARKROOM to me. It's great to see that my book is getting around to the different publications and media outlets.  After waiting for over a year, the publication of DARKROOM is about to happen!  From the very beginning, this has been a journey of faith and resolve.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.   --Philippians 3:12-14 (TNIV)

"...a taut tale sure to engage readers and challenge their understanding of God's truth and love."  --Ann E. Byle, Christian Retailing Magazine

 

Joshua-Graham.com Flash Fiction Winner Announced!

I'm pleased to announce that our independent judging panel has chosen a winner for the Flash Fiction Picture Prompt.  Contestants were to write a short work inspired by the picture to the left.  Before we get to the winner, I had promised to explain the origin of this picture.

And yes, that is my blood in the tub.

What in the world happened, you ask?

Good question.  In fact, I asked that myself, when I saw it.

Here's the long and short of it:

On a dark and not-so-stormy night, around 2 AM, a sharp pain to the legs and a sudden drop jolted me awake.  I found myself on my hands and knees.  For the life of me, I could not understand where I was.  Until the smooth cold surface of the floor and narrow walls to my left and right sent a chill through my body.

"What happened!" my wife called out into the gloom.

"I fell!"

"Where are you?"

It took me a moment to process and articulate it, much less comprehend how I got there, but no mater how uncanny, the facts were irrefutable.  "I'm in the bathtub!"

The sheets in the bed across from the master bathroom rustled.  The soft padding of feet grew urgently closer.  My eyes stung as the bright glare from the overhead canister lights blasted on.  "What happened to you?" My wife said, as thunderstruck as I.

"I...I must have..." I stood, and a sharp pain, focused like a needle, impaled my right shin.  Glancing down, I noticed a bright red stream from the center of my tibia running down to my foot,then through my toes.

My wife must have seen it at the same time, because she gasped, "Oh my!"  Immediately, she grabbed a wad of kleenex and pressed it to the wound, just as I lifted my foot to the edge of the tub and rested it there.  Deeply concerned and repeating "Oh my, oh my," she applied pressure, neosporin, and a bandage to my wound. And a bit of TLC.

We both took a look into the tub and found the multiple drops and blood spatter.  It send pins and needles up my back.  "Looks like a murder scene," I said.

"You'd better clean it, or people will think I murdered you."

"Don't worry, I know how to destroy evidence.  I've killed many people..."

A blank stare.

"In my books," I said, not expecting her to laugh.

And she didn't, she just rolled her eyes and lifted the tissue paper to look at my wound.  "There's hole in your leg!"

"Wow.  That's something.  Don't worry, hon, it doesn't hurt much.  Looks a lot worse than it feels."

"What were you doing?"

"I guess I was coming back from the bathroom  half asleep, and I probably missed a turn.  Must've hit the edge of the tub and fell in."

"You know, you really had me worr--"

I left the bathroom briefly, and returned with my shiny new Samsung Galaxy SII Android cellphone.

"What are you doing, Josh?"

I ignored the spreading spot of blood in the padding of my bandage and I winked at her.  "Picture tells a thousand words.  That's four manuscript pages for me."

She rolled her eyes and went back to bed.

 

And now, for the winner of the Flash Fiction writing prompt contest!

(drum-roll please)

The winner is....

 

(pause for effect)

 

Doug Dutcher!

Congratulations, Doug.  The independent judging panel has chosen your flash fiction as the winner!  We'll be in touch with you soon to send you your prize (ANY ebook of your choice)

I'd like to thank all the other participants for their entries.  There were definitely other worthy contenders, and I wish you all the best.

 

 

 

 

That Magical Day… What a feeling!

Well, today I finally got to experience what so many first time authors published by a major house feel.  Holding the final version of your book in your hand--the one that hopefully millions of people around the nation (and abroad) will enjoy.  Along with the trade paperback edition of DARKROOM came a lovely note from my editor Jessica Wong, at Howard Books, a division of Simon & Schuster.  She's always so thoughtful around milestones and makes these occasions special, knowing that for a debut author of sorts, this is an exciting day.

The finish of the book's cover is matte, not glossy.  I find that intriguing, as well as a fine artistic choice.  Seeing the binding, the interior, and the entire package in general, it's clear that quality is of the utmost important to Howard Books and Simon & Schuster.  I already knew this from working with the ourstanding editorial staff at Howard Books, and now with the marketing & publicity departments as well.

I'm incredibly excited about the launch of DARKROOM on May 1st, and as always, I give God all the glory and credit for giving me the ability to write, and for the honor and opportunity to be published by Howard Books/Simon & Schuster.