Imaginary Friends

I sent you a query this morning. It's labeled "Query 4" in my Scrivener file, so I must be getting better at writing queries. The previous novel I queried got up to "Query 6" before I dared send it out. I don't like this query process, but I appreciate that I'm one of many thousands of aspiring writers, and this is an efficient way for you to sort through our manuscripts. Writing novels and writing queries are very different things. I'm better at writing novels. But the query I sent isn't bad. Now I'd like to say what's not in the query. The Freezer  is my fourth novel. It took me two years to write and revise, far longer than the previous two novels. This one was really difficult, and I'm not quite sure why. But I do know that I put my heart into it. I let my voice come through. I put every writing skill and piece of advice to use at one time or another, including killing my darlings. The result is something multi-layered and m...

The Freezer is finally ready to go. A few lucky literary agents have already been queried. While I was working on this manuscript, my family lived through pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird diseases, a mom with a ruptured tendon, surgery to repair it, another surgery to fix the results of the first surgery, a dad going on many more business trips than usual, a drive to Ohio, a construction project, a month of houseguests, and for the last week or two, the baby's been teething. That's my excuse for why it took so long. I've probably forgotten a few things. But our baby is lots of fun, even when he's grumpy. Maybe I'm finally getting the hang of being a dad. Now for the next novel... p.s. I didn't write "The End" at the end of The Freezer . It didn't seem appropriate. It rarely does.

I've been thinking about three things that are important to me: hope, trust, and love. They go together like peanut butter and honey, bread and butter, or bread and peanut butter and honey (and butter, for some people.) Why? Well, here's what I've learned: Hope needs an accompanying preposition— for . We hope  for  something specific. Without that, it's a feeling of optimism, not real hope. Likewise, trust must always be in someone or something. To do any good, trust must also be strong enough to allow action. Without trust, there can't be hope. Without hope, trust is useless. For example, if I have trust in a medical treatment and hope for a cure, I'll complete the treatment even if it's unpleasant. If I lack either trust or hope, I'm not likely to endure the discomfort. Things don't always go as planned. You can have trust in someone and hope for something, but the selfish choices, conflicting desires, mistakes, and offenses of oth...

Like, I know this writer who just sold a novel to a major publisher. Her name's Krista Van Dolzer. She has a ridiculously popular blog . And she's a fantastic writer. You might think that's why she just sold a novel. Being a fantastic writer, I mean. I like to think it's because of me. Yep. I critiqued  that novel she just sold. Like, two years ago. I read what you might call an early draft, though it certainly wasn't the first draft. I offered vague direction about what didn't seem quite right and helpful suggestions like, "Gee, I've got nothing to say about this chapter. It's really good." Since then, Krista's written two more novels, and each one makes me feel less useful as a critique partner. But here's what I get to brag about: I got to read this book several  years  before the rest of you will. Also, you'll never read the version I read. Sure, what comes out in print will be even better, but still. It's li...

Still busy at work, but not having to work extra. Ann Marie has her hand back. The little finger is kind of bound up with scar tissue, but it seems to be getting better, slowly. I finally figured out the right way to end the book on which I'm working. I just have to write that ending. I'm going to do it right now. And I have another excuse for not blogging: snow. It just begs to be played in.

That's what I am: completely post title. Like, titles were so three months ago. You know, the last time I posted to my blog. Was that three months ago? That's what it feels like without checking the dates. But I'm not going to apologize for not posting. It's not like I ever promised to post. It's not like you paid to read this blog. And it's not like you've been sitting there thinking, "I wish Ben would post something. He always has the most helpful, funny, and heartwarming things to say." Yes, instead of apologizing, I'm going to offer excuses, in no particular order: 1.  I went to Pennsylvania on a business trip for two weeks. I ate in nice restaurants and seedy little holes, and they all had great food. I managed not to gain any weight, so congratulations to me. Lancaster county is a nice place, and I got to pop over to my sister's house in New Jersey and help clean up after the storm. Still, the trip started right after... 2.  M...

You've read Prince Caspian , right? If you haven't, go read it. (Or at least watch the movie.) Then come back and finish. Ready? Okay. There's a scene where Lucy sees Aslan, the giant talking lion, and he beckons for her to follow him on a course that doesn't seem to make sense. No one else in the group sees him, and they basically don't trust Lucy enough to do what she says. She's the youngest, etc. etc. So they go the other way, run into all sorts of trouble, waste all kinds of time, and Lucy sees Aslan again—and no one else does. Even though he's right there!  Eventually, they come around and everyone sees him. You, the reader, never doubt that Lucy actually saw Aslan. You know they should follow him as surely as she does. Are you simply more trusting of young girls who see things you don't? No. You know she saw Aslan, because you saw him too. A few reasons for this: The book's in third person, and the narrator never leads you astray...