Cover musing

I forgot to ask. Who is this model?

Michelle Obama?

Phylicia Rashad? (Remember Claire Huxtable from the Cosby Show)

What do you think? Who is this?

New Book this week!

It is finally here. The Six-Liter Club released this week on April 6. This baby has been a long time coming. I wrote the original version in 2003 during my first year in Kenya. Written initially under a different pen name for the secular market, when my agent shopped my alter-ego around, alas, the novel had too much Christian content for the secular market. But my protagonist, who is an African-American female, the first trauma surgery attending at the Medical College of Virginia in 1984, is not a Christian. Therefore, her lifestyle isn't Christian. She is definitely in need of redemption! For this reason, the Christian Booksellers Association publishers thought the book too "edgy" for publication by a Christian house. So, I was caught in the middle: too Christian for the secular market, too edgy for the Christian market.

After two years of searching, my agent (Natasha Kern) finally found a home at Howard Publishers (division of Simon and Schuster). They had a unique request for this book that they understood was "pushing the envelope": write something else first. They wanted the book for publication, but didn't want to publish it as their first Kraus novel. So, that's where Salty Like Blood came into the picture. I showed a Howard editor what I was working on and they said, we'll do that first, then publish The Six-Liter Club the year after that.

So that's why this book has been seven years in the making. I did have to do some revisions to make it a bit more acceptable for the Christian market. Don't get me wrong. I don't write anything graphic, but a few scenes were altered to soften its impact on very conservative readers.

I don't want to shy away from tough subjects just because the activity is unchristian. Think about the Bible. There is plenty of sin going on. It's just not glorified. That's where I draw the line. I would never write a scene involving sin and not show in some way that there are negative consequences to it.

This book involves some significant backstory from Africa. The protagonist, Camille Weller, is an orphan. Her mother, a Congolese native, was married to an American missionary surgeon. Her parents were killed during the Simba rebellion in the Congo in the mid 1960s. In my research, I read the accounts of several martyrs, Christian missionaries who were killed during that horrible time. When I realized that my immediate neighbor, Steve McMillan, shared the last name of one of the men I'd read about, I asked him about it. As it turned out, one of the missionaries who was killed was his father. Steve had lost his father at age eleven in the Simba rebellion and yet later returned to serve the Congolese people as a missionary himself.

The original idea for this story came to me as I was sitting in church one Sunday morning when my pastor, Phil Smuland started telling a story about some American missionaries in the Congo during the Simba rebellion. A missionary stepped out on his front stoop and looked to the north. The Simbas (the name of the group revolting against the new government of Congo) were going house-to-house killing all of the westerners. He looked south and saw the same thing. In a few minutes the slaughter would reach his home. In desperation, he killed a few of the family's chickens and sprayed the blood around the kitchen. He then hid below his house with his family. When the Simbas arrived a few minutes later, they saw the blood and "passed over" the home, leaving the family unharmed. What a beautiful picture of the Passover this is. I immediately started thinking about weaving a new novel and somehow incorporating this imagery. Again, I can't give away how this relates to the new book, because I don't want to spoil the story.

Anyway, I'm rejoicing this week because The Six-Liter Club is finally here. It is yet another witness to the grace of God in my life. I'm not foolish enough to take credit for this stuff myself. It is the God of grace who empowers imperfect fingers for his work.

Thanks and enjoy reading,

Harry Lee

Things I think about while weeding...

I love the Spring. Warm weather has finally graced Virginia and after a record-setting winter, it is time to get outdoors again.

But Spring means I need to tackle the outside projects that have been idle and ignored. So Saturday, I spent hours weeding the shrubbery bed at the end of my driveway. The temperature was just about perfect and so I honkered down for the hours it would take to pull and dispose of the evil weeds.

The key is not to let the weed break off at ground level, but go deep and get the root. Oh, how fulfilling it seemed to be to pull out a long root snaking along under the surface. It's that same "ah, now we're getting somewhere" type of feeling that a surgeon gets when he or she finally breaks into a major pocket of pus while draining an abscess....but I digress.

A particularly popular weed (I'm not sure of the name, just that the darned things were everywhere) gave me the most challenge. I would pull up one plant only to find that just under the surface the roots were all connected into a complicated network linking all of the weeds. The most fun was to be had an inch or two below the surface when grabbing the hub of a root network would lead to pulling out a spider of roots in multiple directions.

Of course, the work was mind-numbing after a while, so I had to think about something else to keep myself amused. So naturally, my thoughts turned to writing. I thought about the individual weeds as situations or people in a novel. At first introduction or just a cursory look, each situation or character seem unrelated. But start digging and you will be rewarded with finding a root leading off in directions unimagined at first glance. The beneath the surface stuff is always the most interesting. A killer seems unrelated to the victim, but is later revealed to be a grade-school chum. Separate characters in a small town might have multiple, initially unseen, connections below the surface. They all shop in the same store, attend the same church or have been touched by the same set of undesirable circumstance.

In a story the length of the contemporary novel, events that seem random are rarely so. The reader digs a little deeper and is rewarded with a connection. Follow that lead and soon you will find a hub linking everyone together. It is this final discover of a hub that ties it all together that is usually at or near the climax. It is the discover of this network that leads to the "ah ha" moment for the protagonist. The knowledge of the connection is the final piece that pulls it all together and completes the change in the character (the character arc) that is needed for resolution.

In the craft books, the teachers refer to this as layering. The longer the book, the more intricate and connected the layers. Things in novels shouldn't just happen by coincidence. If they do, the reader feels cheated. Things happen for a reason. But don't give away the reason too quickly. The fun is in the gritty process of digging along the root until a connection is found. It is in getting your fingers in the dirt that the rewarding moments are revealed.

Say a new guy comes to town. Don't think this is random. He's got a past. Somewhere, somehow, he has a connection to the protagonist. Is it a blood connection, perhaps one that was hidden on purpose? An emotional one? A common love interest? Does the knowledge he has about the protagonist create a problem?

If you are working on a novel, I'd encourage you to look for the under-the-surface stories. These are the ones that will create the cohesiveness that the story needs. Yes, your story will have random characters that serve the purpose, bit characters who appear once and then disappear. But isn't it more interesting to find a secret link?

Maybe your protagonist eats sausage every morning. Coincidence? Or something deeper?Did he or she grow up poor and only had sausage on Christmas morning? Maybe he or she makes the sausage? Maybe it is a special sausage made from a yearly family hunting trip. Maybe it is made up of the human victims of some crime (ug, that's a sick thought, right...but it was an unexpected or hidden connection and that's what you want to some degree...the hidden surprise that rewards your reader with the ah-now-we're-getting-somewhere feeling).

You get the idea. When you read, guess ahead. What is this guy doing here in this circumstance? Is it random? If the author has layered the story correctly, there will be unseen and surprise connections all over the place. The waitress that serves the old man in the dinner is actually his granddaughter, the result of a secret affair. The truck driver that is so nice to everyone and leaves a big tip is a brother to the town's mayor. The protagonist is a heart transplant recipient whose donor had a scholarship to play basketball at the very school he attends. The possibilities are limited only by the imagination.

In my novel, Could I Have this Dance? I used the genetic illness, Huntington's Disease to create multiple connections through the novel. HD attacks in mid-life, often after the person has passed on the disease to the next generation. Let's say a person with HD (unknown to them because they haven't gotten old enough to show symptoms) dies after having a child and passes the disease on, unsuspected by everyone. Add in the spice of a grandmother who bears a child as the result of a hidden rape, a mother with a hidden affair with the local doctor and a disease which affects only half of the children of those affected and the complicated ins and outs of small town life and you have a story that is quickly layered and connected in ways the reader will be delighted to root out.

So the next time you're out in the garden facing those ugly weeds, just think about your favorite novels and the underground connections that you discovered on the way.

The next few days after the hours I spend weeding, my muscles told me I'd done something I'd been avoiding a long time. Hopefully, the rewards of uncovering the layers of a good novel will be more fun!

Until next time, keep digging.

Harry Lee

PS: Help me out with the launch of my new novel, The Six-Liter Club. It is coming out tomorrow (April 6, 2010) (finally!)! If you want, purchase the book off of Amazon.com between 5-7 p.m. Eastern Standard time tomorrow. If everyone buys at the same time, my Amazon rank will improve and it may catch someone's eye. Thanks to all my readers!!!!!

What do you have in your hand?

I've been reading a great book lately, The Hole in our Gospel, by Richard Stearns, the president of World Vision. It is a challenging read, something I'd recommend to all Christians.

Basically Stearn's premise is this: The Gospel is a lot bigger than a get-out-of-hell-free card; it is about redeeming us, and also helping us redeem culture around us, specifically by reaching out to those locked in economic hardship.

As a missionary, I found his message refreshing. Inside, his words found resonance with me. Our gospel has become too me oriented. Yes, it is about me loving God, but it is also about me loving my neighbor, something that is closely linked to loving our Heavenly Father. We love Him by loving others.

Lest his gospel look like he is advocating working for salvation, he cautions readers to understand that we are saved by grace/faith alone, but that saving faith will have a direct impact on our actions, and result in fruit the world can see and savor.

I love what Stearns says in his comments on Mark's account of Jesus feeding a multitude with just a few loaves and fishes. You remember the story. It was late in the day. The people were far from food and tired from being out all day without nourishment. Look at Mark 6 for the details.

Jesus asked his disciples (as he also extends the invitation to us) to feed the crowd.

They responded by asking whether 200 denari worth of bread should be purchased to feed them. Isn't this so like us? Always calculating what it will take when the task is before us. We look at a job (in this case what appeared to be an almost insurmountable job) and try to figure out strategy to complete it.

I'm not saying that calculations like this are wrong, but maybe they shouldn't be our focus.

Notice what Jesus says. "What do you have in your hand? Bring it to me."

He didn't ask them what it would take to get the job done, only what they had to offer. He didn't ask them to get something they didn't already have, only to be willing to share what they already had.

Interesting.

So I ask myself, (and you): "What do you have in your hand?"

The liberating thing about loving our neighbors is that Jesus doesn't ask us to manufacture it, only to be a channel. He is sending a message of love to the world and wants to send the message through us. He only asks that we be available.

What do you have in your hand?

I hope the answer is love.

What It's like To Be An Author

I spent three hours yesterday (three different class periods) as the guest lecturer in a high school English class. It was their chance to talk to a real author and my chance to rub shoulders with some great young teens who have their own preconceived ideas about what being a writer of novels is all about.

I showed them a slide of rhino grazing a few feet away from me, not bothered by my presence, nose to the task. I told them to get rid of the romantic notion of what it must be like being a writer. There is no life for me sitting in a comfy chair by the fireplace, smoking a pipe, laptop open, fingers pouring forth wonderful stories, taking breaks only to discuss Hollywood options with my literary agent or to collect my royalty checks from the mailbox. I told them writers need to be a bit like the rhino in the picture. Novels are long and they take a long time to write, so you have to be disciplined about staying at the task and ignoring the distractions. After the novel is written, I told them you need a thick skin like the rhino, because it's going to take some resilience if you are not going to cave when the editors give you a thousand suggestions as to how to do it better. And then, long after publication, there's the reviewers, some professional, but in the age of Amazon.com any one can review a book and post it for the rest of the world to see (ah, if only the rest of the world was searching my books on Amazon). While I was talking, the English teacher actually looked up a book of mine on Amazon and found a one star review. Turns out all the guy had to say was, "I had to give this book one star because I never got the book. So if you're the seller, I need you to contact me...." Crazy, huh? He doesn't get the book, so he takes it out on the author, as if I had something to do with it.

Luckily, thick skin like a rhino in place, I let that one go....

Then, I told them to be ready for solitude. LOTS of it. You're going to have to be comfortable spending time alone, because that's how novels get written. Of course, there's the occasional jaunt out into the public to do research or book promotion, but the vast amount of time is spent at the keyboard, conversing with your imaginary friends.

New writers need to be ready for an apprenticeship of years. From the time you first start writing, rewriting, getting advice, finding an agent, submitting proposals, writing again, starting over.....to the time you can hold that first book in your hand is going to be years. There are plenty of success stories in writing and very few of them didn't involve a long time and multiple rejections. For that reason, for new writers, the process has to be enough. You have to get to the point where you think that even if it doesn't get published, the process of getting story on paper was enough. If it isn't fun, don't even think about it.

All writers I know have to face the temptation of envy. I know I do. I look at the type of books I write, books laced with medical realism, an attempt at real characters with flaws, battling with obstacles, developing a conscience etc., and then I look at the fluff on the best-seller list and am tempted to envy. I think my stuff has more depth than the popular stuff. Maybe I should be writing Amish romance or vampire stuff. Why do some books break out and the majority of good writing sits unnoticed? I can't tell you the answer to this one, only that it's true and if the writer doesn't find joy in the process, he or she should do something else. Christian writers, God is in control, not us. We need to thank him for the grace to be able to pen a publishable story and realize that ultimately the results are up to God.

Of course, then there's the finances. Realize that there are very few authors making a living off of the craft. Writer-wannabes tend to think that with the first contract comes a guarantee of financial freedom. Time to quit the job at Burgers-Are-Us and make the down payment on that BMW you've been eyeing. Hey, the Stephen Kings of this world are the exception. The rest of us are the rule.

Writers (I should say successful writers) live a life of discipline. A few years ago, as I was getting ready to do a seminar at Liberty University on the craft of the novel, I wrote to a few writer friends and asked them to give me their top five things they wish they'd have known (that they learned on the road of experience) when they were just starting out. Jerry B. Jenkins (of the "Left Behind" series) said, "The need to put butt in chair every day." You see, without discipline, the novel-length project goes unfinished. You have to push past a lull in your own interest, writer's block and the agonizing revision process. You have to be willing to strip the slow parts and start over, if needed. In all, it takes a lot more than showing up at the keyboard, but Jenkins is correct: it all starts there. If you don't sit in front of the keyboard for the necessary hours, the novel just ain't gonna happen.

So, keep the romantic idea of the writer in your head if you aren't planning to do it yourself. The problem is, there are many who want to have WRITTEN a novel more than to endure the process of actually writing it. That reminds me of what my mother said to her home church as my parents were getting ready to leave as missionaries to Africa. "I've always wanted to be a return-missionary," she said. "Only one way to do that....go!"

I thought that was amusing then, but then, my mom was being brutally honest. Most people would like to be return-missionaries, to be able to sit around the roaring fire sharing amazing stories of sharing the gospel while facing down native's spears. Most people won't be return-missionaries because they don't want to endure the actual going and doing part.

And most people won't ever reach the point of having written a novel, because it's the doing part that's so painful.

Just thought you deserved to know in case you were thinking of putting your toe in the water to find out what the life is like.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to lay down my pipe, put another log on the fire, and check my mailbox for all those royalty checks!

Writing update

What are you working on? Are you still writing? Any new books in the works?

The answer, as it always has been since the early 1990s is the same. I'm always writing. Not always physically hitting the keyboard, but always thinking, always plotting.

It's been a few years since I signed a new fiction contract, a two book deal with Howard (division of Simon and Schuster) for the books, Salty Like Blood and my upcoming book, The Six-Liter Club. I'm getting anxious to see my upcoming release, coming April 6. In it, I turned to a familiar setting, Medical College of Virginia set during the years of my own medical school years there. For that reason, the book feels personal.

But it's also scary: For the first time, I wrote in first-person through the eyes of an African-American. And not just A-A, an A-A female. I think I pulled it off, even passed it by the critical eye of an A-A female author, but only time will tell if the book will live up to the hype. Here's what Publishers Weekly had to say:

Surgeon and author Kraus offers his longtime fiction readers a
highly charged tale of overcoming prejudice both racial and sexual.
Set in 1984 at the Medical College of Virginia, its first black
female trauma surgeon, Dr. Camille Weller, gets a fast initiation
into the Six-Liter Club. Few physicians ever enter this „elite‰
group; entrance is gained by bringing a patient back who's lost six
liters of blood. Weller manages to achieve this honor on her first
day and then, in quick succession, also manages to break „house
rules,‰ which divide the male and female staff. Weller has a lot to
contend with apart from her duties as a surgeon. The young doctor
must balance a romantic relationship with a resident; deftly
overcome the barriers she encounters because of her skin color; and
move beyond nightmarish memories of her childhood in the Congo.
Kraus's story clips along at a fast pace, and his readers will
appreciate how candidly the surgeon writer portrays the real world
of operating rooms and their attending staffs.

I'm particularly pleased, as PW has a reputation for slamming inspirational "Christian" fiction after the compliments. Thank God for a little grace.

So what have I been doing in the months since writing and revising my upcoming novel? Writing something new. Not sure of the title yet, but it is set in Africa, and delves into corrupt politics, witchcraft, marriage betrayal, missionaries losing loved ones while serving on the field and coming to grips with God's grace. I just finished the rough draft this week and am anxious for my literary agent to show it around. It brings together two settings I know well: Richmond, Virginia where I attended medical school, and Kijabe, Kenya in a mission hospital where I worked for four years. It was a blast to write. Now comes the hard part: the WAIT for word from my agent.

On the non-fiction front, Domesticated Jesus is coming out in June with P&R publishers. I'm very excited about this book as it takes an honest look at how we routinely underestimate God in our thinking. (For example, every worry is an example of making Jesus small or domesticated in our minds as we are acting as if he is too small to take care of our problem.) I've seen a prototype of the cover. It is a shocking image of a dog collar with a tag containing the title. It is taken from the concept that we've made Jesus into someone who serves us (like a pet) not vice-versa.

In the upcoming weeks, I'm going to launch into another project, likely something I've been noodling on for months....more clues to follow.

Oh yeah, almost forgot, A Zebra Tale is coming out later this year with Word Alive Publishers in Nairobi, Kenya. It is a fun tale of the great flood told through the eyes of a zebra (ever wonder how God got all those animals to go against their instinct and follow a man? And what if God invited the very lion that killed your zebra brother? And what if no one in the herd, including your family, believed you when you warned them of upcoming catastrophe. The book will be distributed in Africa, but available here in US through internet sales via the Word Alive site.

Thanks for asking.

And thanks for reading.

Harry

LOST IN PARIS!

I want to tell you about Bob. Bob isn't worth much in the eyes of a discerning public. He's never held a job, never wrote a poem, isn't much of a conversationalist and he can't bake a casserole for a church pot-luck. He doesn't come from money, he has a pot-belly and he has bad complexion and doesn't put much effort into personal hygiene.

Nonetheless, Bob became quite precious to our family, especially my son Evan. He took Bob along with us on numerous vacations. I've got pictures of Bob at the Statue of Liberty, the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Eiffel Tower. We even took Bob to a presentation of the radio show, "Prairie Home Companion" and had his picture taken with Garrison Keillor.

The reason I love talking about Bob is because the relationship Evan had with Bob is such an example of grace. Evan loved Bob, but Bob never expressed any favor back. The relationship was lopsided. Some would say dysfunctional. Why give love when nothing is ever reciprocated?

Did I mention that Bob is a rubber chicken? We purchased him at Walmart for a buck and change. In the pictures, you can see Bob at the Eiffel Tower and Bob touring the Louvre looking at Michelangelo's famous statue.

Our relationship with Bob came to a tragic end in Paris. Our family had stopped to see a friend on our way back from Kenya. We'd taken Bob to the Eiffel Tower and were on our way to Notre Dame, one of the world's most amazing cathedrals. From the Tower, we took the subway and then were on a bus across Paris when Evan looked at me and said, "I left Bob at the subway station."

Now Evan was about fourteen years old at the time, a critical juncture between boyhood and manhood and I knew he didn't want to cry, but I could tell his heart was breaking. He brushed away a tear and stayed quiet.

"It's too late," I said. "We've taken the subway and now a bus. We can't go back."

My mind wandered back over Bob's crazy life and a knot formed in my throat.

We toured Notre Dame, looking at unparalleled architecture, tall columns, arches of stone, paintings and sculptures by renaissance masters and stained glass windows that sprayed a rainbow of color across an expansive seating area. The west front contains 28 statues representing the monarchs of Judea and Israel. Three portals depict, from left to right, the Last Judgment, the Madonna and child; St. Anne, the Virgin's mother; and Mary's youth until the birth of Jesus.

But did my heart soar at such magnificence?

The atmosphere was surreal, but my soul was crusty, unresponsive.

All because of a rubber chicken named Bob.

Is it conceiveable for you to understand such a competition for my thoughts? The Last Judgment...or a rubber chicken; The Madonna and child or....A RUBBER CHICKEN?

After the tour, our family remained sober. There was little excitement to continue seeing one of the world's great cities.

At that point, Evan and I made a decision to separate from the rest of the family. We would attempt a rescue mission to find Bob.

We started back across Paris, walking the crowded sidewalks. And as we walked, we began to hum the theme for "Mission Impossible." You know--dum dum da de dum dum da de dum dum....It was the Kraus version of no chicken left behind.

We took another bus, finally arriving back at the entrance to the subway. At that point we were facing the turnstiles that require the purchase of a ticket. But I didn't want to pay if I was only going to search the platform and not ride the train. So, with all the appearance of someone trying to steal a ride, Evan and I jumped the turnstiles and jogged towards the platform. Perhaps I should have been thinking about how I would explain it to the authorities if they observed my antics, but I wasn't thinking about that...our focus was on Bob and our plan of rescue.

We arrived at the platform and searched the area. We looked on the concrete bench where Evan was sure he'd placed him. No Bob!

Our hearts sank again.

But we widened our search. There, off to the side in the gutter, Bob had been discarded.

Evan scooped him up. Other than being a little dirtier than usual, he was no worse for the adventure.

Why tell the story of Bob?

Because in some ways, we're all a bit like that rubber chicken. God has chosen us, independent of our worth, and lavished us with his love.

Did Bob diserve an expensive European vacation?

Of course not. He's a rubber chicken.

Do I diserve the lavish attention and love of my Heavenly Father?

Again, no way.

But that's what is so special about grace: God's favor given freely to the undeserved.

The next time you see a rubber chicken...remember that you are loved!

~Harry Lee