Part of a series of interviews with experienced Christian writers—of academic and popular theology, fiction, and those writing for a non-Christian audience.
How did you decide to take writing more seriously? Did someone encourage you to do so?
I don’t think I ever did decide. Wisdom in Leadership started as little leadership thoughts that I wrote for my youth ministry leadership team at a local church. My wife said I should see if anyone would publish them. So I emailed Matthias Media and said “Do you accept unsolicited manuscripts?” They said, “Not really.” So I said, “I’ll take that as a yes,” and sent it to them.
I never decided to be a writer. I just wanted to be helpful however I was able. I’ve discovered that God wired me with the ability to absorb lots of information, synthesise it, and then express it. And this lends it itself to writing.
How do you think about your explicitly Christian writing? As a ministry? A hobby? A vocation? A side hustle?
If I had to put a label on it I’d say it’s a ministry. People ask me what it’s like to write a book and my answer is: it’s awful the whole time. I like having written; I don’t particularly enjoy writing. I like the result of crystalising a storm of swirling thoughts and half-baked supposings. The process itself I find very difficult from start to finish. In the moment, I’d prefer to just watch YouTube or read what someone else has written. But it’s very satisfying to have taken lots of disparate threads and weaved them into something that didn’t exist before, so that others don’t have to do all that work
Where do your ideas and inspiration come from?
I write books that I wish existed. Made Man came about because I was reading and learning all this amazing stuff about the incarnation and what it meant for salvation, but it was all super-duper academic and dry and poorly written. Hardly anyone would bother reading it, but when you shouldered through all that sludge of form and vocabulary, the actual content was great. If only normal people could have easy access! I couldn’t find a book written for normal people. So I tried to write it.
That’s been the same basic process for every book I’ve written—trying to bring into existence something approximating the book I’ve been looking for. I’ve got loads of ideas for books that I wish existed. The question is, does anyone else want them to exist and if they did exist would anyone buy them and can I find a publisher who agrees.
Do you have any advice for those starting to seek publication? What insights can you give into the mysterious publication process?
It’s a slow process. Very slow. That’s partly because most publishers are under-resourced. Every part of the process takes way longer than you think it would. Writing a proposal takes much longer than you would think, writing a draft, having people read it, people deciding whether to green light it or not, editing, fine-grain editing, arranging it on actual pages, printing—it all takes a really long time. Some people just slam out a book, it feels like, every six months. I don’t know how they do that. For the rest of us, expect it to take years from proposal to published on the shelf for purchase.
Writing a book is also much more collaborative than you might think. Yes, an author sits alone and types for hours. But a lot of collaboration happens along the way, with friends, fellow workers and other contacts; readers; and then editors and the whole publishing team.
Lastly, as people rightly say, much of writing is re-writing. Editing and editing and then editing again. And even after I’ve edited it five times myself, then the actual editor comes along and we go again. They see things that are so obvious but that I missed during the last five rounds of edits I made.
How do you think and feel about getting feedback and editorial input? Has that changed over time?
I’m a big fan. My experience has only ever been that editing is extremely helpful. I’d much prefer people to point out errors before the thing gets published. The more people can point out structures that don’t work, or ideas that are hard to follow, or sentences that don’t make sense, or conclusions that are plain wrong, the better the book is. That’s happened, I’m pretty sure, in every book I’ve published.
Because I’ve thought about the content for so long, I sometimes skip steps or assume implications, rather than making them explicit along the way. Readers point out steps that I’ve assumed or conclusions that don’t quite make sense because I’ve accidently skipped some key planks in the argument.
My writing style is a bit rambling. I’m used to verbal communication more than written. Editors help make my writing less annoying to read. (This paragraph, for example, was fifty-three words when I submitted it to TGCA. It is now twenty-four, not including this note).
When the editor wants to change things it’s usually a clear and obvious improvement. When it’s a line ball I usually trust their judgement. When I reckon the change is not so good I explain what why I believe it needs to be like it is. Pretty much every time they’re like, “Oh that makes sense. Here’s an even better way to do that,” and then we go with that.
I’m not a particularly precious author and I’ve got quite a collaborative temperament, so that makes for a pretty smooth process.
What are your coping strategies for rejections, or not hearing back from people you share your work with—whether editors or friends and family?
It’s not really a strategy… I just don’t care! If an idea is rejected, that’s okay. There’s plenty more where that came from. Maybe it was the wrong time rather than the wrong idea. I know that’s not very helpful advice for the person who really does care, but it just hasn’t been something I’ve needed to deal with.
The rejections that took me the longest to process were the rejections from American publishers. Every proposal I’ve sent to American publishers has been met with: “if you had a PhD we would publish this. Get back to us when you have one”. I thought really hard about whether I should pursue get credentialled in that way, but in the end I’ve decided not to.
If people I send manuscripts to for input don’t get back to me, that’s fine too. I know how much time it takes. I know how rammed my friends’ calendars are and how much they already have on their plates. It’s such a privilege that anyone would give me that kind of time and thought and effort. I’m not entitled to any of that. So I don’t care if they forget or don’t get back to me. That happens all the time. I’m just extremely grateful when someone can help me.
Is it difficult for you to promote yourself and your work?
Yes, but probably not for the reasons you might think. I just don’t think of it. I’m off onto the next project or planning the next sermon or lurching from one crisis to the next and it just slips my mind. If I thought of it, I would do it.
At one point in time I did find it very hard. You’d be surprised how often people have a go at you—especially on social media—for publicly letting people know you wrote a book that they might be interested in. I understand why people do it: promoting your book is very close to promoting yourself. For many, the book is the author. But in real life they’re distinct. I don’t hear people being criticised for letting people know about their business—letting people know they can come to them if they need a physio.
I figure, I wrote the book because I thought people would be helped by it, so it makes sense to let people know it exists. Realising this was the moment I stopped worrying about promoting my work and started ignoring those who criticised me for it. I understood why they were doing it and what was bristling them, but I also knew they were wrong and could be safely ignored.
What are particular temptations for writers? What are some strategies to resist them?
You can stuff all your sense of identity into any characteristic or pursuit. So as an author, you can be tempted to find your identity in being an author.
There is also the temptation to believe your expertise crosses over into other disciplines. This is not unique to authors—there’ll always be yet another actor pontificating on nuanced global political issues way above their reach. There is a risk for an author when they reach outside their realm of expertise to make judgements on things they do not understand quite so well. Of course it’s okay to comment on things outside your primary discipline, but humility and caution is needed.
How can friends support Christian writers?
It depends. Friends should just be true friends to Christian writers. There’s nothing specific you need to do.
But if you read books, you might consider reading a book that your friend wrote. And if you found it insightful (or whatever the appropriate reaction might be), you should make sure to tell them. Most writers either hear basically no feedback at all or else only criticism. That’s part of the deal when you write, you don’t need to feel sorry for them. But you are in a position where you can add a little encouragement.
If you like the book, tell others you like it. Lots of Christian writers find promotion difficult or uncomfortable. A little bit of help goes a long way.
If you didn’t like it or disagreed with it, only tell them if you really think you need to, or if they specifically ask you for feedback. Otherwise, be slow to speak and careful what you say when you do.
If a friend asks you to read their manuscript, it is mark of their trust in you and their appreciation of your perspective. But it is also a big undertaking, and writers sometimes don’t fully grasp what they’ve asked you to do. If you can, you will serve them and every one of their readers if you offer your thoughts. But don’t feel too bad if you can’t.
How can ministry leaders support Christian writers?
Use their books. There are certain Christian books that I use systematically in multiple training moments at my church. If you find a book you like, use it.
Also, same as for Christian friends, if you like a book, tell others you like it.
What do you recommend to those who want to work on their writing?
Work very hard to discover and craft your distinct writing voice. The generic author voice is fine. But the best writers sound like themselves. Try and become a writer where people can tell it’s you by the way you write. They’re the authors that I love reading.
Don’t talk yourself out of writing. Who are you to write this and why should people listen to you and surely there’s someone better, and blah blah blah. The problem is that this is most likely at least partly true. Just determine that you can think those thoughts, feel those feelings, and then still write anyway. Let others tell you yes or no. Maybe you’re not the right person to write this or that project. Fair enough. But let someone else say that. And when they do, you need to be strong enough to absorb that news and get on with life without losing enthusiasm.
