Last night I kept waking up from stress nightmares: free-falling elevators, long chase-scenes through abandoned buildings.

What had me in a cold sweat?

I needed to get some new head shots taken today.

Okay, you can stop laughing now.

See, I don’t usually wear make-up. Didn’t really own any until Saturday when I stood and stared stupidly at the shelves of cosmetics at Target wondering what I needed to buy to look like a semi-professional grown-up. Appearance isn’t one of those high-value issues in my life. Which can be a good thing. I have a friend who used to spend a full hour each day on hair and make-up.

My splash-water-in-my-face-and-head-out-the-door approach has given me an extra hour to do the things that my life has been rich and full with. Things I wouldn’t have had time for if I did a lot of fussing.

I also don’t do much with my hair. So when I NEED it to look good, I have no wealth of experience to draw from. And clothes? Because of twenty years of teaching ballet, I like to wear something I can do the splits in. Anything stretchy and cotton and completely comfortable.

Yet today I needed to choose clothes, fix my face, tame my hair – and take a picture that would embody what I want to convey as an author. Last year’s photo was used on posters, in newspapers, on blogs, in book catalogs, websites, business cards.

Ha! Talk about pressure!

Ted came to my rescue. As a video project manager, he knows lots of make-up artists and called a friend to come help me out. That was a surprising treat. She didn’t turn me into a caricature. She really fixed my face to be me – but a me that would look better for the camera.

Then daughter Jenni and I headed to an inexpensive mall studio, where a bubbly high-school junior was the photographer.

I tried some “serious-intelligent-author” looks, and quite honestly, the photos looked like I was a sad-eyed Basset Hound. I tried some mysterious smiles and only succeeded in looking nauseated.

So I gave up and just did the same old smile as my past head-shots.

I know, I know. It’s a tremendous privilege to get to write books, and I don’t mean to gripe. And isn’t God good to let me have a career where I don’t usually HAVE to gussy up to do my work? And I’m thrilled that my husband loves the flower-child-throw-back natural style that is me.

But we all have things that stress us out, don’t we? Experiences that are a snap for others, are just not part of our comfort zone.

Whatever scary thing you had to face today – congratulations! You did it!
And I pray that if you have anything scary to face tomorrow, God will send you support in many forms, just as He sent me a kind make-up artist, an enthusiastic photographer, and a family that loves me the way I am.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

(Photo is of my daughter on a zip-line – pure joy!)

As an avid reader all my life, I often fantasized about the lives of the brilliant people who created the stories I enjoyed so much. Crowded study, a cozy wing chair, pipe smoke and a leather-patched jacket? Perhaps ambling through a Scottish moor, hair whipped by the wind, jotting notes as inspiration swirled? Sitting at a local coffee-shop, disheveled and bleary from a long night of creating epic work, carrying on erudite conversations with fellow authors?

So when I got my first contract, I looked around at my life and scratched my head.

It was so . . . well, normal.

And on top of that, some new pressures arrived. Critics and sales numbers, appearances and interviews. Self-doubt that climbs higher with each paragraph I write.

But there ARE writer joys. For those of you sharpening a new pencil each day to scribble your tales: it IS worth the effort.

The most humbling and joyous surprise is receiving letters from readers.

“WOW! I could swear you have been eavesdroping in my home…Thank you so much for writing this book. I’ve been able to share things from the book with my husband and discuss my feelings and inaequacies as a wife and stay-at-home mom.”

“It was incredible. Life changing for me…I had to know what happened to the lovely family you created, but especially Becky.”

“I’m reluctant to finish it. It will be like losing a good friend. I find me in so many areas of Becky Miller’s life.”

“I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the book . . . it has so ministered to me…words/feelings that I didn’t know how to verbalize.”

To me this reflects God’s amazing ability to take simple things (like my goofy little stories) and transform them into blessings. And to watch that happen fills me with awe and gratitude. I still don’t have a wing chair and a leather-patched jacket. Brilliant words don’t drip from my fingers as I type. I chew my nails when waiting to hear what my editor thinks of my rewrites. I obsess about where I fit among genres and styles in the publishing world. I recognize my insignificance in the face of the “real” writers – the best sellers, the award-winners, those with a hundred books to their credit.

But I also feel joy that my work today includes playing in the sandbox of words, and that at least a few people have found my first book, read it, and enjoyed it.

If you’ve read a book lately that blessed you, take a moment and let the author know. That writer might need a little bit of joy today. 🙂

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck