Character Casting Call (INSPIRED Days)

Inspired Days Button

It’s Week Three of “INSPIRED Days”! – an approximate month of awesomeness celebrating my J. Taylor Publishing novel, of which yesterday marked its 6-month semi-anniversary of publication! *huzzahs, hurrahs, sings a round or two of “For He’s It’s a Jolly Good Fellow Novel”*

In honor of the occasion, here’s a piece of flash fiction I whipped up a couple months back, all about one of the many ways a muse may assist his author in finding inspiration. Enjoy!


“Next,” the voice like bells rang out from the doorway. O was on his feet in an instant. This is it, he thought, smoothing a hand over his hair and down his shirtfront. Don’t screw it up.

O walked in with all the confidence he could scrape together, then uneasily wondered whether they were looking for confidence. What if they wanted someone shy? The posting, written in lights in the ether, hadn’t specified. Confidence seemed the safest bet for first impressions, though, so he kept committed to that.

Inspired Mock Cover
My early vision for an INSPIRED cover, as created by me.

The dark girl seated at the desk smiled, and the glowing-bright man seated in the air beside her beckoned O further in. The door closed behind him – from all appearances, on its own power. “Hi-hi!” the girl chirped. “I’m Annabelle. This is my co-executive, Lucianíel. And you are?”

“O,” said O, shaking the girl’s hand. “Or, something with an ‘O’. Possibly multiple ‘O’s. That’s all I’ve got for sure.”

“Fair enough,” she said. She turned to her floating, glowing co-exec. “How do we feel about Orlando?”

“Donovan, I think,” Lucianíel’s voice rang again.

“Orlando Donovan, then. We’ll hold onto it for later.” Scribbling the name on a notepad with one hand and gesturing for O to sit with the other, Annabelle said, “So, O. Let’s chat. What do you know about yourself?”

“Well, I’m a guy.”

“A good starting point,” said Annabelle, her curly cloud of hair bobbing with her encouraging nod.

“And I’m a killer.”

Her brows rose. “Oh?”

He nodded. “I have to be. I mean, I have to kill. It’s a psychological need. If I don’t, I’ll, I dunno. Get sick. Go crazy. It’s in my twisted nature. Also, I have really arresting eyes.”

“I noticed,” she said. “What are they, blue?”

“I think so, yeah. Kinda flickers between that and gray, but I’m leaning toward blue. Or… do you think I could have eyes like a raven?” he asked hopefully.

Lucianíel tipped his head. “Are you a raven? Descended of ravens or tied to them in any way?”

“Shape-shifting raven?” Annabelle inquired.

O shook his head. “I didn’t mean literal raven’s eyes. Just their color. Y’know how the feathers are just so black they shimmer, like, purple and green and blue? It would be incredible to have eyes like that!”

“Hmm.” Annabelle chewed on the cap of her pen. “Amazing eyes do not in themselves an amazing character make. The psychological need to kill is something, I suppose, but even that on its own is a little… so-so.”

Why do you need to kill?” Lucianíel probed, his own incredible eyes on O intent. “Whence came this vital need?”

O shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m really not sure. It’s something in my makeup. In my blood.”

“So this is not unique to you? There are more of your kind?”

“Sure. Or there were.” O shrugged. “I dunno. I might be the last, or separated from them. I feel separated,” he realized, of a sudden. “Isolated. I might not even know what I am, and that there are more like me. I feel like the only one.”

“Aww,” Annabelle said, absently sympathetic. A good half of her attention was on the fat little paperback in her hands, its pages well-worn and flipping with familiar ease beneath her fingers. “Dominic… Donahue… Here we are: Donovan. Celtic, Irish. Strong fighter, dark chieftain.” She turned wide, eager eyes on Lucianíel. “That could apply to a race of raven people quite well! A noble family name. Maybe he’s a long-lost prince!”

“Perhaps crows instead of ravens,” Lucianíel suggested. “Murder, and all.”

“A murder of crows – brilliant!” Annabelle cried. “Yes, yes, yes! You, young Donovan,” she said, stabbing a finger across the desk, “are a prince among crows! There was a conspiracy—”

That would be the ravens,” said Lucianíel.

“Say what?”

“A conspiracy of ravens.” He smiled. “Or an unkindness.”

“Ah, I see. Well, shoot, we’re rolling in awesome titling options, aren’t we?”

“Less awesome than obvious. But they’re as good a starting place as any.”

“In any case,” Annabelle continued, returning to O. “Conspiracy. Somebody wanted you gone, probably so they could cut ahead in line to the throne. That they didn’t just kill you shows it was one of the ravens.” She steepled her fingers, eyes gleaming in the glow of a plot unfolding. “A crow would have murdered you, but for one of the Unkindness, death would be too kind. They snatched you from your people and left you to grow up alone in a world not your own, desperate for the death of others without knowing why; a freak and a monster; friendless.”

O chewed down on his cheeks’ insides, trying to stem the flood of painful heat rising behind his eyes. As she said it, it was true. He wanted friends – of course he did – but how could he ask friendship, ask trust, of someone when he might kill them, or someone they cared about? It was bad enough that he cared. Each and every time. A crow prince raised with the morals of a gentler race. Every day was a battle of nature versus conscience, and he could not let conscience win. It would destroy him.

A tissue appeared before him. “It’s okay,” said Annabelle, gently. “Let it out.”

Taking the proffered tissue, he wept freely, embarrassed but unafraid. He sensed their compassion, the girl and the glowing man. Whatever happened today, however this ended, he had their understanding.

“I think we can work with you,” she said, when O’s sobs had softened to sniffles. “More than that: I would like to work with you, O. How would you feel about getting a story?”

“Please,” he said, a smile braving its way back onto his face. “I’ve been trying to apply for one for ages. You’re the first author who’s seemed to notice I exist.”

“And the last author you’ll ever need to petition,” said Annabelle, smiling wide in return. “You’re mine. Feel free to go hang out, for now. If you need anything, there’ll be other characters to show you around. Luc and I will be in touch when we’ve got more of a game plan for you. Sound good?”

“Excellent. Thanks,” said O, going in for the closing handshake. “I appreciate it.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Lucianíel said warmly. “Next,” he called, the first door swinging open in tandem with a second – the door through which O made his way out into the vastness of his new author’s mind.

“Hi,” he heard her greet the applicant behind him. “Sorry we kept you waiting. People were crying. So. A dragon master, huh? Tell me what that’s like.”


Thanks for reading! If you’d love to nab the novel chronicling the start of Luc and Annabelle’s partnership, remember there’s a giveaway on Goodreads with three paperbacks for the winning. Meanwhile, for the e-reading crowd, the novel’s e-version is on sale all month for a crazy-low 99 cents via Amazon and Barnes and Noble. So for anyone who hasn’t gotten hold of a copy yet, the time is now!

Inspired Sale, Kindle and BN


**Coming up Thursday**: A guest post from INSPIRED’s Uri on reconciling her worldview with the surprise revelation that she’s fictional.

“Wolves” or “The Whys and Were-fores Behind the Holloway Pack”


Previously on Ever On Word, I reviewed yet-to-be-released urban fantasy Caged” by J.A. Belfield, the latest in a series following the exploits of the Holloway Pack werewolves. As of yesterday, “Caged” is on the market, and as of right now, the author is here among us as a part of her new novel’s blog tour! Read on for her answer to the frequently asked question, “Why ‘any of large several predatory canids (genus Canis) that live and hunt in packs and resemble the related dogs’?

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Why wolves? is a question I am asked a lot, and the answer is as simple as it is complex.
On the complex end of the scale: due to having dreamt of (not just wolves but) werewolves from an early age, I feel a connection to this species. I have dreamt of myself as wolf. Hunted as wolf. Raced as wolf. I’ve also witnessed werewolf changes in others—including in Mr. B—and been hunted by wolves. So, werewolves and wolves are a huge presence within my subconscious.

On the simpler end of the scale: wolves intrigue me. Or more to the point, the ability to become one, whilst still maintaining your humanity, intrigues me.

In my mind, it’s like the best of both worlds.

To have the ability to make conscious decisions not driven by instinctual urges and needs alone. To live amongst the human world, because humanity is a big part of who I am, so I’d be grieved to lose that completely in order to become something else.
But also, to know I could release my inner animal, the wild side of me that allows me to become one with nature, to soar amongst a forest I’ve claimed as my own, to experience the unity that comes from a pack hunt, to mate with the intensity that far too many marriages of today lack (maybe my belief that this is the way to go is why I’m still with Mr. B after 23 years), and to be so perceptive of the world around me as every sense is heightened, adding colour and flavour and sensation to the experience that might normally have gone amiss.

And all of this with the safety net of returning to my human life, and allowing the mundane to connect that less savage side of me to an existence I love just as much.

So, yes, the idea of this draws me, intrigues me, and excites me enough to want to investigate it further.

THIS is why I write wolves. This is also why I chose to write my wolves in the way I do. I didn’t want to head toward the monstrous beasts so prevailing in the dark urban fantasy or horror of today, but rather a creature with the ability to blend into their surroundings, whichever of their forms they took. And so, the Holloway Pack was born.

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J.A. Belfield
About J.A. Belfied:

One day, a character and scene popped into J. A. Belfield’s head, and she started controlling the little people inside her imagination, as though she were the puppet master and they her toys. Questions arose: What would happen if …? How would they react if …? Who would they meet if …?

Before she knew it, a singular scene had become an entire movie. The characters she controlled began to hold conversations. Their actions reflected the personalities she bestowed upon them. Within no time, they had a life, a lover, a foe, family … they had Become.

One day, she wrote down her thoughts. She’s yet to stop.

J. A. Belfield lives in Solihull, England, with her husband, two children, four cats and a dog. She writes paranormal romance, with a second love for urban fantasy.

She also book blogs over at Bookaroo-Ju.

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You can buy copies of “Caged” here:

Blue Moon cover, J.A. Belfield

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Haven’t read “Blue Moon (Holloway Pack #2)” yet? Well, you’re in luck, because during the “Caged” blog tour, Blue Moon” will be on sale for just $0.99! Nab a copy here:

There’s also a raffle going on!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

For more posts and interviews and giveaways and all that awesome book launch-type stuff, follow along on the “Caged” blog tour. And don’t forget to wave “hi” to J.A., for me!

“BBF Post, Day 2” or “A Spotlight on Megan S. Johnston!”

July BBF button copy

It’s Day Two of the Blogger Book Fair!

Today I’m spotlighting author Megan S. Johnston, who has in turn posted a review of my book on her blog! For Megan’s thoughts on my novella “The Swan Prince (Book One of The Wilderhark Tales)”, hop on over to her blog. But first (or second, whichever you’d rather; I’m easy), read on below for a description of Megan’s paranormal romance, TRANSITION.

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Transition cover

Transition, The Chimera Hunter Series

The Chimera a race so old, the humans relegated them as a myth. The Gods feared the Chimeras’ powers; they believed they were a deadly race, with physical abilities beyond belief. So, they split their race in half condemning them to wander the earth, searching for their other half to be complete. Without their sodalis, each was destined to live life without dreams, without love, without hope. The future rested on finding their one true mate for life.

SHELBY O’NEIL has led a solitary life with her parents. So when she goes to school at Washington State University, she believes her life has just begun. Now in her second year, the dreams begin. She dreams with the same man, night after night for months. When her dream world becomes her reality, and her life becomes a danger zone, she quickly learns to trust the one man who has thrown her into this new and dangerous world.

DEVELON COLE is Chimera and his race has been on earth as long as humans. His people are desperate to find their one true mate for life, and Develon has just found his, in the small college town of Pullman Washington. His goal is to protect her against the hunter’s and guide her into who she was always destined to be, his sodalis, his mate.

Megan S. Johnston

Author Bio

Megan S. Johnston is a freelance writer and entrepreneur living in the Pacific Northwest. In addition to writing fiction, she runs several family-owned and operated businesses, which she started over twenty years ago. She is an avid reader of paranormal romance and a member of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association. She has four children and seven grandchildren and lives with her husband and two dogs in Woodinville, Washington. Transition is her début novel.

Social Media Links:






Enter Megan’s giveaway!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks, Megan! Leave a comment here and/or at my guest spot on Megan’s blog for entry into my Blogger Book Fair Raffle! One lucky-duck winner will receive a free paperback copy of my fairytale novellaThe Swan Prince (Book One of The Wilderhark Tales)”, a set of Swan Prince” bookmarks, AND the bookmark set for the upcoming Book Two of The Wilderhark Tales, “The Stone Kingdom”! Last day to enter: Thursday, July 25th. Winner announced: Friday, July 26th!

AND, ALSO, ADDITIONALLY, PLUS: Sheri of the Shut Up & Read blog is hosting the Blogger Book Fair Reader’s Choice Awards, in which “The Swan Prince” is entered in the Fantasy/Young Adult category! To win in my category, I NEED YOUR VOTES! Winning would mean an invaluable promotional opportunity for my book, so please, I ask you – all and individually – on my knees, with whipped cream and cherries or whatever tasty thing makes you happy: Go here and cast your vote for “The Swan Prince. (You’ll find it in the “Fantasy-Young Adult (3)” drop-down box.)

Let me know you did so, and I’ll throw in another 5 raffle entries for you. And if your votes end up carrying me to victory … I’m doubling my BBF raffle prize! Two names drawn, two paperbacks, two sets of “Swan Prince” and “Stone Kingdom” bookmarks! (And yes, the rules totally allow shameless campaigning for support, so I will not be above begging for the entirety of BBF week, nor will I cry foul if any of you wish to campaign on my behalf. On the contrary, I may go teary-eyed with appreciation.)

That’s all for today, kids. Come back tomorrow for more Blogger Book Fair fun!

“HYSRT!” or “When Good Stories Go Bad…”

Grumpy Cat Characters

…It could be because you’ve got a stranglehold on your characters and aren’t letting them do their thing. (I don’t think that’s the problem I’ve got with the project giving me grief, lately, but who knows? I’ll give it some soul-o’-the-story-searching thought.)

In her blog post “Learn From My Fail: Character Edition”, the oft-mentioned-around-here Rachel Aaron shares her own experience with a power struggle between her and her characters that may hit close to home with other writers, out there. And if this particularly brand of writer’s blockage hasn’t affected you yet, then, Hey, You Should Read This to help ensure it never does! The writing process goes so much more smoothly when the author and her creations are working in harmony. (:

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In semi-related news (since this post’s subtitle does mention good stories), as of a few days ago, I’ve started an account on Goodreads. No, I don’t really have any idea what I’m doing over there, any more than I did when I joined Facebook or started a blog, although I did spend a fun afternoon giving stars to books I’ve liked and/or loved over the years. If any of you readers have likewise jumped on the Goodreads train and want to add me as a friend, you’ll find me under my ingeniously deceptive alias, Danielle Shipley, perchance with a middle initial E.


“[Dis]course” or “Any Port in a Word-storm”

For my next Buccaneer Blogfest trick, I am to interview the person signed up below [me] on the linky and post that interview.

*Flash!* We interrupt this blog post to make a quick announcement! And when I say “we”, you all know I’m the only one here; ergo, I must be a royal. And speaking of royals, for those of you anxiously awaiting the final installment of my serial fairytale, “Blood, Sweat, and Tears”, fear not, it’s totally coming. I shall post it on Monday – meaning, Buccaneers, that my Monday blogfest post will be bumped to Tuesday. Everybody got that? “BSaT” conclusion = Monday. Next Buccanner post = Tuesday. That is all. Back to the interview.

…Which I can’t actually post just now, as I’ve yet to hear back from my interviewee. But ne’er fret, me hearties! If its “verbal exchange; conversation” between bloggin’ Buccaneers you wish, they’re happening all over the seven seas!

This one over at Tangent Shell is good (includes practical tips on desert island literature; good to know, should any of us aboard ship find ourselves marooned).

I enjoyed this piece at Writing In The Crosshairs, too (another instance of an absent interviewee, but this blogger makes the best of it in a deliciously strange way).

Ooh-arrgh, and Amanda Foody interviews yours truly upon the shores of It’s All in My Head!

There, now. You’ve been given several headings. Pick a “point on the compass, especially the one toward which a vehicle, such as a ship, is moving”, and speed on, full-sail!

*EPILOGUE* My interviewee has blown in at last! Blogger Nanette Pitts is in the building! …er, aboard ship! Either/or!

1) Your blog, Grace Paige’s Storyland, is agleam with flash fiction. Would you consider short stories to be your preferred genre to write, or do you enjoy tackling longer works as well?

I enjoy Flash Fiction, it keeps my brain frazzled. However, I do enjoy writing short stories that can allow me to go into a little more detail. Along with that, I am writing a novel. So really any size writing format suits me. I’m keen on supernatural genre, but I’ve read sci-fi, fiction and non-fiction. My general rule is, if a book can capture me within the first few pages, I’ll read it.

2) Do you type up your early drafts, write them hand, or some combination thereof?

I do a lot of typing, but I keep a pad of paper and pen handy at all times.

3) Which story that you’ve authored would you say you’re most pleased with, and why?

Probably the story I’m working on right now. It’s taken so much of my thought, time and soul.

4) In your maternal experience, which is harder: Naming children, or naming characters?

That is a tough one. Since I’ve had to name both. You want your children to love their name, they’re the ones who can really express to you if they like it or not. If a name doesn’t suit a character by book’s end, a little backspace can correct that.

5) In your bio, you list “Grease” as one of your favorite movies. I’m a fool for musicals, so I gotta know: Which of the song numbers is your favorite, and why?

Beauty Shop Drop Out”. Though Frenchie was following her dreams, you mustn’t skip the important stuff.

6) If you could spend a day hanging out with any fictional character you’ve ever read, who would you choose?

Oh man…this is a tougher question than #4. I’d hate to leave out any character, they all hold a special place in my heart. A few men come to mind, but really I think I’d choose Sookie Stackhouse from Charlaine Harris’ books. That way I’d meet up with her, let her poke around in my head a bit and in theory she’s a magnet for trouble so I know I’d get to meet the “guys”.

And tha-a-ar you have it, folks. (:

“Goals” or “The Motivation Behind My Madness”

People have asked me – “Danielle,” they’ve asked – “Why did you start blogging? What are your goals for your blog?

And when I say “people”, I mean the crew in charge of the Buccaneer Blogfest, yo-ho!

This badge is supposed to go alongside my blog, but I’m a rebel pirate (translation: I’ve yet to have much luck in figuring out how to get badges to stay where they belong), so I’ll be sticking the image inside all my blogfest posts.

Well, whoever’s asking, I’m very glad you did, because I do rather enjoy displaying the answers to such questions for the world’s viewing pleasure.

So, wherefore did I found Ever On Word? In a nutshell,  my writing bestie Tirzah told me to. She said it would be good for me, in my capacity as up-and-coming author, to start generating an online presence beyond the occasional Facebook post.

I dragged my feet. I fussed in that “noisily brave” fashion of mine (term coined by my much-adored tailor). I was scared to throw in my lot with technology (we have a long history of enmity; see my badge caption on the right), and nervous about having to talk to a bunch of strangers on a regular basis (assuming that anyone out there paid any attention to my little blog, which I wasn’t willing to bet too heavily on). But Tirzah said she was starting one, and I didn’t want to get left behind, so there was really nothing for it.

Goals? I’m supposed to have “purposes toward which an endeavor is directed; objectives”? Er…

I kid. I’ve got goals. First, foremost, and frankly, I want fans. (Quadruple-F alliteration points are awesome, too, but a secondary goal at most.) Now, fans can be a bit tricky to come by when you haven’t actually got a book out on the market, yet. Tricky, but not impossible; not when you’ve got other words with which to entertain the masses in the meanwhile. That’s how I view this blog, in part: As my opening act, keeping the audience happily in their seats until the Big Name shows up to rock the house. I talk writing, I talk characters; I share poems, songs, and short stories; I point to other stuff I’ve read and herald, “Hey, You Should Read This!”. And in the process, I’ve gained something that I didn’t even think to aim for:

Blog friends! Y’know what’s really cool? When you’ve got people who follow your blog, or you follow theirs (or, when fortune smiles, you’re both following each other), and you get to chat and trade ideas and goof around together, and maybe invite each other over to put your words on one another’s blogs, and nominate each other for blog awards and tag them in blog games and… well, back it up, I could easily condense all this. Y’know what’s really cool? Having blog friends. I love you, my blog friends! (You know who you are… And if you’re not sure, go ahead and count yourself among them, anyway; who’s it hurtin’?)

Let’s see, any other goals?… Well, it’s more of a long-shot dream than a goal, but I would very much like some big wig in the publishing industry to see my blog and say, “Whoa, this gal is awesome and can she ever write! I’m going to make her a star!” Like I said, a long-shot. But surely it happens. …Or else, surely I could be the first! And once I’ve been made a star by hook or crook, it is my intention that Ever On Word be a place where all my fans, old and new, can keep up with whatever behind-the-scenes news I’ll have to offer on the life of the author of what will be one of their favorite books.

Such are my goals. I’ll let you know when I get there. (:

“Illustration” or “A Couple Thousand Words are Worth Some Pictures”

Long before Danielle E. Shipley was a fantasy novelist and short story scribe, she was a picture-book author. Her (or rather, “my”, since narration in the third-person ends now) first literary projects, painstakingly crafted via children’s PC writing software, were only minimally about words, and might even never include any beyond the title. An actual story was all very well, but I was really just in it for the pictures.

            Obviously, things have changed. Nowadays, I’ll typically put out a few ten-thousand words before I create so much as a piece of fan art. My primary concern is to take what’s in my head and reproduce in yours via description and dialogue and something else that begins with a “D”, because I like alliterative lists of three. As the poet said, “I should be painting this masterpiece with words / Creating colors from adjectives and verbs / Every brushstroke should be a keystroke / Make you feel that you’re seeing what you’ve heard.” (The poet being me, the complete poem to be found here.) I am a writer, first and foremost.

           But I’m a visual artist, too.

            I’ve entertained brief fantasies of being an author/creator of “visual matter used to clarify or decorate a text” – a phenomenon most often seen in children’s books, but by no means always.

“The Plucker”, written and illustrated by Brom, is about the last thing you’d want to read to your little ones at bedtime. I read it in my young-adulthood, and the scars have yet to fade.

Quite honestly, though, I’m not sure how well Author Me and Illustrator Me would get along together. Author Me sees her work a certain way – a way that would take superior skill to render to her satisfaction. And Illustrator Me, though talented within her own style, is no Brom, Brett Helquist, or some other illustrator whose name begins with “Br”.

            So I’d more or less given up on ever illustrating a published book. And apparently, I’d given up a wee bit early.

            “A Cuppa and an Armchair” – which, you may recall, totally rocked my world by including a short story of mine in their December 2011 publication – has another set of stories scheduled to go up for sale any day now. One of these stories will have been written by me. Another will have been illustrated by me. I guess the sample of work in my Deviant Art gallery was less than entirely off-putting, because I was tapped to put together some images for one of my fellow “Cuppa/Armchair” writers, and I got the impression that she was pleased with my offering.

            I’ll be sure to let you all know when my words and pictures launch – which will just go to illustrate that even largely abandoned dreams may yet come true.

“Pregnancy” or “And Story Makes Three”

My gracious hostess.

Congratulations: It’s a guest post!

            Fellow blogger, writer, and awesome-sauce person Emerald Barnes has done me the honor and pleasure of hosting a Deshipley original post over at her blog, Dreaming Awake. So for those of you who don’t already hang around Emerald’s domain with some sort of regularity, I encourage you (read: threaten you at water-gunpoint) to pop over there now, via this lovely link of delight. (:

PerGoSeeMo Psalm 20

Psalm 20. “As Silver Refined” by Kay Arthur, pp. 193-194

            Like Author, like tailor –

Or such is his hope.

His heart holding love enough for all the worlds;

Every deed born of desire to serve;

All actions devoted to the Highest Good.

His deepest regret that he was not found worthy

To be the Messiah, so you would not have to.

That you died for him, not the other way ‘round…

That you moaned in the garden and he couldn’t hug you…

That he wasn’t at least there to carry your cross –

He’d gladly have been your Simon of Cyrene.

He’d gladly be anything you are,

Or anything you wish.

I wish I were more like my tailor.

            Like Author, like outlaw –

Or such is his hope.

His passion to see and to fill every need;

To be Good Shepherd to his flock of a band;

To guide them with tenderness, chastening gently.

The soft side of fair, but the rigid side, too:

For he must have justice; won’t suffer corruption;

Intolerant of anything less than upright.

He faces, unflinching, any consequence

Of doing that to which he knows he’s been called.

He gladly bore darkness to shine with your light.

He’d gladly be anything you are,

Or anything you want.

I want to be more like my outlaw.

            Like Author, like author –

Or such is my hope.

May those who look me-ward see more than a human;

Let God-ness inside of me be evident.

Give me more love – and, with that, much more patience –

Courageous perfection that casts out all fear.

Nudge my desires in line with your own,

And banish ambition that brings you no glory.

Transfer my center from my self to yours

And… could I get some seconds on that fearless love?

Help me to know your will and live it gladly –

To gladly be anything you are,

Or anything you ask.

I ask to be more like my Author.

PerGoSeeMo Psalm 8

Psalm 8. 1 Timothy 2:5; John 3:16

            Join me on the in-between

Where author and creation meet

Together on the bridge you’ve stretched

As far as east is from the west.

            In the book is clearly seen

Creator’s love for what he’s made;

Of course he’d wish, and bring to be,

Rapport with us beyond the page.

            Earth and heaven far apart

As writing and reality;

No way this mortal one could start

To reach you, so you reached to me.

            Join me on the in-between

Where author and creation meet

Together on the bridge you’ve stretched

As far as east is from the west.

            You so loved the world you birthed,

You put yourself through agony,

That we who dwell upon your earth

Might share in your eternity.

            Now the honor mine to know

The one who dreamed me into being.

How many with dreams of their own

Would pay so dear for such a thing?

            Join me on the in-between

Where author and creation meet

Together on the bridge you’ve stretched

As far as east is from the west.