(Drum Roll) The Envelope Please by Diana Flegal

 

In the world of Christian publishing there are several awards given out for excellence at various stages in the writing process for both fiction and nonfiction work.

American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) offers two awards to the writers of Christian Fiction.

The Christy Awards are awarded each year to recognize novels of excellence written from a Christian worldview. Awards are given in several genres, including contemporary (stand-alone novels and series), historical, romance (contemporary and historical), suspense, and visionary. In addition, an award is given for first novel and young adult. (wiki dictionary)

The Christy Awards are named in honor of Catherine Marshall and her novel Christy. They were designed to nurture and encourage creativity and quality in the writing and publishing of fiction written from a Christian worldview and bring a new awareness of the breadth and depth of fiction choices available. (wiki dictionary)

Every year publishers are invited to submit novels in one of several genre categories and/or the first novel category. Each category of novels is then read and evaluated against a ten-point criteria by a panel of seven judges composed of librarians, reviewers, academicians, literary critics, and other qualified readers, none of whom have a direct affiliation with a publishing company. www.christyawards.com

The Carol Awards are ACFW's recognition for the best Christian fiction published by traditional publishing houses in the previous calendar year.

ELIGIBILITY: Entry must be a work of original fictional narrative prose that is offered for sale to the general public through print or digital media. The author must not participate financially in the production or distribution of the work. The book must be written from a Christian worldview in any Christian fiction genre through a publisher on ACFW's Recognized Publishers list* and for which the author did not participate financially in the production or distribution (did not enter into a subsidy contract of any kind) and was/is paid royalties.

Since 1978 the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association has recognized quality and encouraged excellence by presenting the ECPA Christian Book Award^® program (formerly known as Gold Medallion) each year.  After a rigorous judging process, a minimum of five finalists are selected in each of seven categories: Bibles, Fiction, Children, Inspiration, Bible Reference, Non-Fiction and New Author

The ECPA Gold | Platinum | Diamond Sales Awards recognize outstanding sales achievement in the publication of quality Christian literature.

NEW: ECPA debuted the Top Shelf Book Cover Awards to celebrate the year's best book designs in Christian publishing.  (entries closed August 2013) Covers are judged by top designers in the industry for their merits in appropriateness for the market, level of conceptual thinking, and quality of execution. Judges will choose approximately 10 winners -- but will not be bound by 10 -- as they will have the freedom to truly choose the BEST designs of the year.

Hartline congratulates Jane Kirkpatrick who was awarded the Carol Award for her title, Where Lilacs Still Bloom published by WaterBrook Press. Jane is a multi-award winning author of 17 titles in both fiction and nonfiction and is the client of Joyce Hart.  

  

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana Flegal

Thank you for joining us again for this weeks edition of Would You Read On?
Today we are asking you to comment on the opening prologue of a narrative nonfiction title.

PROLOGUE:

"We’ve said goodbye in so many places, and in so many ways. A cavernous Air Force hangar built to hold beasts of planes, used to herd my husband off to war. In countless civilian airports. After the first few times, passionate embraces in full view of those poor ticket agents just cease to be embarrassing. Or, you forgo the kissing and give him a quick peck and do the casual goodbye because it almost feels routine, never mind that after you drop him off you will flee homeward and hide away, rewriting the narrative of the next year. Two weeks. Two weeks is what it takes for me to assimilate to my new normal. To emerge, to coexist with the undercurrent of worry and the well-meaning but horribly misguided friends and strangers who think what you really need to hear right then, is their opinion on the war. Really, thank you but no. 

Said goodbye in more aircraft hangars. A lot of aircraft hangars. Said goodbye when we had six months to prepare, or two months, or two weeks, or a full year. Said goodbye to my husband praying it was only temporary. Said goodbye to my best friend at her funeral. Said goodbye to unborn babies I wanted so badly to live. Said goodbye to my sweet firstborn girl for a year, pleading with God even as I left that I wouldn’t have to go.  

I say goodbye to my husband every day in a community where mistakes mean machines fail and people die. Complicated flying machines that depend on a meticulous symphony of man and metal. To be fair, it’s a joyful, freewheeling job, the flying. Even now, when I close my eyes I am soaring upward, so elated, so free. But the haunt of loss is ever present. The joy tinged a pale gray around the edges."

Please let us know if you would read on by leaving your comment below.

We appreciate last weeks contributing author: Becky Doughty. Please stop by and visit Becky at the following sites.
www.beckydoughty.com
https://twitter.com/#!/beckydwriter

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana Flegal

Welcome to this edition of Would You Read On. We welcome your comments and appreciate your visiting with us today.

An Inspirational Women's Fiction title:

Prologue

The moonlight pried its way between the slats of the blinds, slashing the bed covers to ribbons across their bodies. Nora tentatively drew her legs up, curling into herself, her back to the sleeping man beside her. Please don't wake up, oh please, oh please. She held her breath, afraid that even the tiniest exhalation would stir the air between them, reminding him of her presence.

Why was she here, she asked herself for the thousandth time. Why did she keep coming back when she knew it would just mean more pain, more heartache? What was it that kept drawing her back to him, to his arms, to his bed?

Like a druggie to the needle, like a drunk to the bottle, like a moth to the flame, like a fly to the web, like a.... The taunting voice inside her head paused, running out of stupid clichés to which she could compare herself. Why am I here? Oh God, where are you? A hot tear spilled from the corner of her eye, running down her temple and into her ear, where it pooled and tickled. She didn't wipe it away; all she needed now was for him to wake up and discover her crying.

Her low back ached from the pressure in her bladder, and she knew she couldn't hold it much longer. Sliding her feet from between the covers, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She waited, afraid to turn and look at him, to see his eyes half open, watching her, his hands reaching for her.

But he didn't stir. She stood and took a step away from the bed.

The floor creaked and she froze.

 “Mmpph.” He rolled onto his side and flung out his arm. It landed on her pillow, and his hand curled around the soft edges, pulling it toward him. She turned and fled the room.

Standing at the sink a few minutes later, she dropped her chin to her chest, and covered her face with both hands. Her tears began to fall in earnest. What was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this? Where would she go? Where could she go?

Tap-tap-tap! The punctuated rap of knuckles on the door startled her, and she let out a frightened squeak.

Lat weeks contributing author was: Lara Van Hulzen. This title of Lara's is under review by a publisher at this time. We wish Lara success. Please stop by and visit Lara at

Prologues??? by Linda S. Glaz

Just read a wonderful blog that emphasized getting to know your main character right away, creating empathy with him/her. I was told last year that I had to lose my prologue on a suspense novel because the reader didn't have enough feeling for the main character soon enough, and the critique was spot on. I dropped the prologue and the story came alive much sooner as we learned enough about the main character to care about her.

THAT SAID

How do we know when a prologue is necessary to set up a story or when it is simply taking up space because we, as writers, like what we're saying? I think immediately of Mary Higgins Clark who often sets up the entire story through a heart-pounding prologue, which may or may not have anything to do with the main character. But she is successful in that the entire story hinges on what happens to someone in the prologue.

What kind of experiences have you, as writers, as readers, had with respects to prologues opening a story?

Can you give an example of how a prologue intrigued you enough to have a read?

Is it absolutely necessary to have the main character in the opening chapter of the book?

On another note, does it make a difference in the genre you are reading? I can see romance needing the main characters right away, but what about suspense, thrillers, or a blend of suspense and romance--thriller and romance.

What do you like to see?

Or give us an example of a book that hooked you right away without there being even a mention of the main character in the opening.

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana Flegal

Welcome once more to our weekly column: Would You Read On?
Please let us know if you are willing to read on by leaving a thoughtful comment for this courageous contributing author. At the close of this page you will find a reveal of last weeks contributor.


Prologue (Bangladesh, current day)

            Neena shrank back but Shazari stood firm. “Get away from us,” she hissed.
            Ahmad continued toward them, laughing off Shazari’s fury. “Your husband is dead. You have no income. Soon you will have no food.”
            His grin was sly, evil. “You know you have no other choice.”
            Neena backed against a large tree, trembling. “I will never marry you!” she shrieked. She flung an arm up to shield her face from his sight. “How could you even think I would want to marry you?”
            “Want to?”Ahmad shoved Shazari aside. She pummeled him with uselessly small fists as he drew closer to Neena, close enough for Neena to feel his hot breath against her.
            “It is completely unimportant to me what you want.”
            Neena was shaking violently. Her voice came out in a desperate whisper. “Then . . . why?”
            He gripped a handful of her long, silky hair. “I want to own you,” he said. His chest heaved. “I want your husband’s daughter to know that I won.”
            His voice rose. “I will exact my vengeance on her by destroying your future.”
            Neena slumped down against the tree. Where had Shazari gone? Where had God gone?
            “Let her go.”
            Neena’s head shot up. Rashid stood behind Ahmad, feet planted, a weapon in his hand.
            Shazari stood directly behind him. Her chin was up. Her eyes shot sparks. “We are not as helpless as you think.”
           Ahmad burst into laughter. “You think my weak little brother, who has never stood up for anything in his life, is going to help you?”
            Rashid pointed the gun at his brother. “Let her go, Ahmad. You have made my life miserable since I was a boy, but I will not let you do that to them. I’ve had enough.”
            Ahmad’s eyes blazed, but his gaze failed to force Rashid’s submission.
           Very slowly,Ahmad’s hand released Neena. She rushed around him to Shazari’s side. Both women huddled behind Rashid, taking small steps backward toward the path that led away from the village.
            Rashid backed away with them. “I will take you away from here,” he said. “I will stay with you until I am certain you are safe.”
            Neena, Shazari and Rashid fled the village. “We’ll go to Asha,” Shazari whispered to Neena.“She rescues women in danger. She will have a place for us.”
            “You will never be safe,” Ahmad called after them. “Do you hear me, Rashid? I will find you!”
            He slammed his palm into the tree, shouting words raw with hate. “No matter where you go, or how far, you will never get away from me.”
            Ahmad clenched his hand into a fist, closing fingers around a piece of bark and crumbling it into dust.  “I will have my revenge.”

Would you read on?

Last weeks contributor was Lisa Fowler. Be watching for more about Lisa as she develops her 'Platform'.

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana L. Flegal

Thank you for stopping by our blog today. Since we have no First Page for you today - we are happy to list the Christy Award winners announced this week at ICRS in Orlando. Congrats to all

 
 
 
 
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Wolfsbane
by Ronie Kendig
Barbour Publishing 
CONTEMPORARY SERIES
The Amish Midwife
by Mindy Starns Clark and Leslie Gould
Harvest House Publishers
CONTEMPORARY STANDALONE
Promises to Keep
by Ann Tatlock
Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group
FIRST NOVEL
Words
by Ginny Yttrup
B&H Publishing Group
HISTORICAL
Wonderland Creek
by Lynn Austin
Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
The Maid of Fairbourne Hall
by Julie Klassenby
Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group
SUSPENSE
The Queen
by Steven James
Revell Books, a division of Baker Publishing
VISIONARY
Veiled Rose
by Anne Elisabeth Stengl
Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group
YOUNG ADULT
Waterfall
by Lisa T. Bergren
David C Cook

You can find out more about the books and authors from the official Christy Award press release. To find the list of other nominations and the replay of the ceremony’s live blog, visit the official Christy Awards site.



We also want to thank last weeks courageous author, Becky L. Miller.
You can find out more about Becky at her personal blog A Christian Worldview of Fiction - http://rebeccaluellamiller.wordpress.com/and her editing blog, Rewrite, Reword, Rework - http://rewriterewordrework.wordpress.com/

WE’RE HAVIN’ A HEAT WAVE…Linda S. Glaz

Anyone else remember the words? Some lady dancin' around in the tropics, fruit on her head, maracas clanking? I have a feeling a lot of folks are singing that song this summer. I know I am and I’d rather be singing, BABY IT’S COLD OUTSIDE.

Never a warm weather person, not even as a kid, I’m feeling plenty blue this summer as the tomato plants wither, the walks in the morning become more like hours in the sauna, and breathing takes on a new face—difficult!

But heat waves can also trigger some wonderful summer reading. Have you curled up in front of the A/C this summer with a good book, print or electronic, in your hands along with an iced mocha coffee? If so, what would your summer recommendation be?

I read the first Clark suspense I’ve read in a while. But the sameness overwhelmed me and I think my days of reading her books are over. But I finished Tim Downs Bug Man series, and I have to say he is without a doubt one of my all-time favorite authors. Am right now finishing Raquel Byrnes Ruby Dawn, and I love it. She wrote characters that drew me right in. Am finishing Mothers and Daughters by Teena Stewart, and loved the delightful historical romance Love on the Range by Jessica Nelson. Oddly enough, she’s a crit partner, and I’ve read it a couple times before, but after all the tweaks and such, I enjoyed reading it again. The same with Cheryl Martin’s Pineapple series for kids. Never thought I’d be looking forward to the middler’s book coming out, but her characters are adorable.

Janet Evanovich, Stephanie Plum series. Though her books sometimes contribute to the heat wave, I still enjoy the stories. While it’s long since been time for the series to end and the melodrama to finally play out, her humor just never ends. I can’t get enough of Grandma Mazur and her blue-green-purple-pink, or whatever color hair she’s sporting at the moment. Or the big-barrel gun she hides in her purse. I also reread some of Dee Henderson’s books. Love her suspense with a dash of romance. Well written.

Avoided Shades of Grey, even I know what NOT to read in a heat wave. Besides, do we really need another book that rides the shirttails of hormones?

And, of course, in the midst of the well knowns, plenty of novels by new authors who I’ve brought on board. Some wonderful reads there.

What are you reading to cool down the heat wave this summer? Any brilliant reads you’d like to share?

Would You Read On? Hosted by Diana L. Flegal

Welcome to our Wednesday edition of Would You Read On?. We appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to stop by our blog. 

Chapter 1:

Amazonian Rainforest, Venezuela

Tap-tap.

Will Oakley squirmed in his slumber.

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

Shut up! Can’t a guy get a little sleep?

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

His eyes flew open to velvet darkness. I can’t…I can’t move!

Disconnected thoughts whirled in his mind as he writhed, squirmed, and jerked--all useless. He stopped and forced a long, slow breath.

Get a grip. Pull yourself together. But it was hard. Thinking was hard, like stumbling through a fog.

As he glanced about, vague shapes emerged from the inky void: his hands; his feet…tied to stakes? Beyond lay an empty syringe. What the?

His senses returned; a rumble of thunder, the hiss of rain on the roof. Above, a lattice of palm-thatching faded into view.

A native hut. But the Boras wouldn’t…

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

Gunfire. That’s gunfire!  And screaming? He shuddered at the heart-bending cries.

Will shook his head, everything was hazy, then suddenly it came to him: terroristas. It’s the Voc del Pueblo, killing resistant villagers execution-style.

He struggled frantically against his bonds. No, go…. Stop.  Think Will! The rain...

Yes, the earth was rock-hard, since it was the tag end the dry season. But evidently the VPs hadn’t expected this little downpour. Rivulets of water wove their way through cracks in the roof above, making little puddles, softening the ground.

You can do this. The storm’s on your side. Take your time. Make a focused effort.

He took another breath and gave it a long, slow, controlled heave. Was that a little movement?

Yeah. C’mon baby…

Would you read on?

Last weeks contributor was Lynn Donovan. Thank you Lynn for being courageous. We hope the comments from our readers was a help to you. If you want to learn a little more about Lynn, her Twitter account is @MLynnDonovan and her LinkedIn account is M Lynn Donovan.

 

 

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana Flegal

Welcome to our Wednesday edition of Would You Read On?. We appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to stop by our blog.

This weeks contribution is a fiction title:  

Destiny. It’s all Zeke ever heard from his mother.  She spoke about his destiny. She prayed about his destiny. She never let him forget his destiny. But, did he really believe in destiny? All it ever got his mom was an early grave.

Today, he determined if destiny was his guiding force, then destiny was a mean school-yard bully. After this morning’s fiasco, he no longer believed…in anything.

Forced out of his apartment at six-thirty this morning, he had nowhere to go but his car. Not that it was their fault. The giddy, goofy, oh-so-in-love couple who could not wait to move into his apartment had no idea he would be there.

He had no idea this was coming.

Okay, to be fair, it was Angela’s apartment. He’d never put his name on the lease, but he had lived there, with her, for four years. They were married for three.

That changed today. Their divorce hearing was at nine o’clock. How could he be ready for this? How does anybody prepare for what was happening today?

Apparently, Angela knew. She’d already sublet their apartment. Obviously, she was moving on.

Why couldn’t he?

             His 2001 Suzuki Swift was crammed full of his meager belongings. He worried about the legality of driving with this much stuff in his car. What choice did he have? He could only see out the windshield and driver’s side window. The other windows were blocked by everything he owned. Well everything he could throw in a box, trash bag or laundry basket and cram into his humble hatchback. 

Would you read on? Post your comment below

REVEAL: Last weeks contributor was Timothy Fish. You may get to know more about Timothy at his website and on FB. Thank you Timothy for being bold and courageous!

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana L. Flegal

Welcome to our Wednesday edition of Would You Read On?. We appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to stop by our blog. Kindly comment if you would read on or not.

This weeks contribution is a fiction title: 

Prologue

There was a day when all the host of heaven appeared before the Lord, on his right hand and on his left, and Satan stood among them. “Where have you come from, Satan?” the Lord asked. “Which of my servants will you accuse today?”

Satan stood before the Lord and said, “I have been going from place to place throughout the whole earth. I have seen many who do not fear you, who will not call upon the name of the Lord.”

“Yes, this has long been true, but there are also many who fear me, who worship me and pass on their faith from one generation to the next.”

“In my journey,” Satan said, “I came upon a small town in the United States, in the State of Texas, in the very heart of those who call themselves Christians. They call the place Burning Cedar, as they should, because they have done evil before you and you have given them over to those who would destroy them.”

“For a time, but even now, I hear their cries for deliverance. But that is not why you have come. You have often seen people turn to me when they face hardships.”

“In the town of Burning Cedar, there is a family that has served you for many generations and even the man Stephen Barak is numbered with your saints and written in your book. His father is a deacon in Burning Cedar Baptist Church. His grandfather persuaded many to follow you. His great-grandfather obeyed you and started three churches. But I have watched Stephen and he does not obey you. He hears your voice, but he does not obey.

Would you read on?

We also welcome other courageous authors to share their fiction and nonfiction first pages for critique. Email: diana@hartlineliterary.com with your submissions.
 

Unexpecteded Consequences by Andy Scheer

Fiction touches lives. If you suspect otherwise, just visit an archery shop.

An article in the Denver Post this weekend, titled “They're All Aquiver,” reports how teens and pre-teens who've read The Hunger Games and want to be like Katniss Everdeen are thronging to archery stores and ranges.

Whatever Suzanne Collins's purpose in writing these stories, it likely had nothing to do with prompting kids to learn about bows and arrows. But once stories are released to the public, there's no telling the effect they'll have.

I suspect that in 1958 when Ian Fleming was writing Dr. No, he was simply providing a hint of characterization when he had his character ask for a martini "shaken and not stirred." Ever since, as Jerry Lee Lewis sang, there's been a whole lotta shakin' goin' on.

A generation of novelists later, recreational diver Clive Cussler invented a Bond-like character whose adventures would take place in and under the water. Early in the series Cussler had his hero, Dirk Pitt, check his wristwatch. Having a keen eye for specificity, Cussler looked at his own left wrist, then typed that Pitt was wearing an orange-faced Doxa diver's watch. Today if you attend the annual convention of the group that collects Cussler's books, at least half the people are wearing orange-faced Doxas. In an early novel, Pitt gets caught in a rip-tide. Rather than struggle against it, Pitt swims perpendicular to it until he escapes its grasp. In the decades since, the author has gotten multiple letters from readers who got caught in a similar situation, remembered the scene from Pacific Vortex, and swam to safety.

In many of his westerns, Stephen Bly had a character rant about a situation to the hero, whether Stuart Brannon, Tapadera Andrews, or Brady Stoner. Then Brannon (or Andrews or Stoner) would say, “Are you bragging or complaining?” I remember that not just because it's a great line, but also because I often hear it quoted around my family supper table.

If you ask Jerry B. Jenkins, he can tell you lots of stories about the origin of what was envisioned as a single book (that might sell 50,000 copies) but became a multimillion-selling series that thrust him and Tim LaHaye onto the cover of Newsweek. But Norm Rohrer chronicled the most amazing consequences of Left Behind in his nonfiction book These Will Not Be Left Behind, in which he relates the stories of some of the thousands of people who read the books--and had their lives changed eternally.

If you're a writer and a Christian, no doubt that's your deepest desire for your readers. Some aspect of your stories will affect people. You just never know who and how.

Would You Read On? hosted by Diana Flegal

Thank you for joining us. Please leave a comment after reading today's First Page submission. Let us know if you would read on.

Chapter One

Monday

“S-s-shut up and f-f-forget it! You’ve s-s-seen nothing and know nothing! G-g-got it?”

The whispered words radiated out in waves of malevolence, like heat rising from a country blacktopped road in midsummer. The air vibrated with a pregnant sense of malice, shifted, then swirled in ghostly forms around her.

An unexpected mental vision of a deadly snake intent on its victim slivered in her mind, and Tara Layne shifted her gaze to the ground, hoping no snake would materialize.

Was this Montana land holding its breath, waiting? Waiting for what would come next? Waiting to see what she would do?

A sense of evil washed over her, and she shivered. Parts of the blue sky peeked through the tree branches, yet beneath those branches the light seemed to have dimmed. Had it? No leaves stirred. The chirping birds, the clattering insects, hushed, as if an early evening had set in.

She leaned forward and strained to hear.

Nothing.

No more stuttering words.

Yet someone was out there.

Tara eyed the northwest forest. Brian Jamieson’s private hunting and entertainment grounds. She slowly spun in a circle. No sign of human inhabitants. As far as she could tell, Hickory, her pet mouse, was the only living creature around-other than herself.

Who had breathed those words a moment ago?

Someone close by.Would You Read On?

Last weeks submission was the First page of Stolen Woman, the first in a series of 3 Christian suspense/romance novels on international human trafficking and missions. Find out more at www.stolenwoman.org, or check out Kimberly's blog at www.stolenwoman.blogspot.com.