My Best Books of 2014

Which books changed my life in 2014?

I read thirty-six books this year, as of today. I hope to make it 37 before midnight tomorrow, if I can pound out the last of Plato’s Republic. Many of these volumes were forgotten the instant I put it back on the bookshelf, or shut off my Kindle.

Others changed me. I quoted new phrases. I modified my philosophy. I gained courage. I ate differently. Which were my most memorable books of 2014?

The Life-Changer: Trim Healthy Mama

This book, by Serene Allison and Pearl Barrett, set the tone for the entire year.  It was a year filled with fitness victories, as I lost nearly forty pounds, and gained a passion for running.

I have already written extensively on the diet and lifestyle espoused in the book Trim Healthy Mama.  You can read a summary of what it is and why I chose it here, some of my favourite benefits here, and more about my weight-loss and food addiction journey here.

Most-Quoted: Slaughterhouse 5

Though it wasn’t quite the page-turner that Divergent, the Maze Runner, and other popular novels I read this year, Slaughterhouse 5 lingers much longer.

After watching the Crash Course with John Green video discussing Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, I was intrigued by the Tralfamadorian aliens, Billy Pilgrim’s complete unhinging from reality (and time and space), the fire-bombing of Dresden, and the ideas of time and free will.  It is also a strangely comedic book, considering the traumatic subject matter.

There was a lot of death this year, as there always is in this evil world. My method of dealing with this involved denial, impotent rage, helpless tears, prayer, and bouts of jaded weariness.  In those times, it was tempting to say ‘so it goes’ every time I’d heard someone died. I also gave thought to what time actually is, and how free we are to choose our destiny. I tend to oppose the Tralfamadorian idea of complete fatalism.

It is also no accident that the ‘Society of Immortals’ in the series I am writing makes their headquarters in Dresden.

Best Business Book: Rise of the Machines

How do you make yourself stand out in social media? How do you make your blog a success? Frankly, I was lost.

Rise of the Machines, by Kristen Lamb brought me from the dark ages of promo-tweeting, into the adventure of making friends through Twitter, Facebook and other social media platforms. I’m no social media wiz, but at least I have some idea of how to make the most of these resources and not bore everyone to death in the process. Particularly helpful was her blogging advice, which promotes a highly relatable style based on your personal interests, stories and experiences and not on your actual profession (because apparently only writers want to hear writers rant about writing).

The One That Haunts Me: Thank You for Your Service

I stumbled across Thank You for Your Service, by David Finkel in McLeans magazine while I was revising We are the Living for publication. It’s the story of several American soldiers and their families, who live with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, traumatic brain injuries, or physical injuries. It was probably intended as an expose of the inadequate care these men and women receive, but for me it was about seeing life through their eyes.

I was in the midst of writing Liam, the male lead of We are the Living, who has battled through the compound effects of a brain injury and PTSD and cannot quite break free of their stigma. This book sharpened my image of Liam, but it also showed my what a no-win situation his might be.  This, combined with some events in my family, shaped the conclusion of the story. I realized that a straight-up happy ending wasn’t in the cards for him, just like their was no quick fix for the families in Thank You for Your Service. But there was great opportunity for love, courage and redemption.

The Book from Left-field: The Way of the Fight

I found this autobiography of UFC champion Georges St. Pierre crammed into the teetering ‘Religion’ shelf of a an overcrowded used bookstore. I pulled it out and hee-hawed with my friends. They didn’t know who St. Pierre was, but were amused/embarrassed at the cover, which featured the fighter bare-chested and geared for the fight. I’d developed an interest in St. Pierre and the UFC after watching some pre-fight coverage on a TV at the local McDonalds. I was puzzled by what would motivate a man to make a career of beating people up on national television.  Here was my chance to find out.  It turned out, MMA fighting is much more complicated than that.

It’s less of a life-story and more an explanation of his ideology. St. Pierre comes across as a philosopher, a learner, and a man dedicated to a craft. In fact, much of what he said on conquering fear, managing risk, submitting to mentorship, and constant learning could be applied directly to writing.  I was in the thick of publishing We are the Living at the time, and choking on the fear of exposing my novel (and thus the inner workings of my mind) to an audience. The Way of the Fight turned out to be the medicine I needed.

The One I Wrote: We are the Living

How do you find peace and hope when you have no control over your life?

Kayla’s plans are as finely tuned as her cello, so when Liam joins her friends on their tour of Europe, she resents him.  The ex-soldier with a fragile psyche seems like a liability.  But when political turmoil in France explodes into a zombie apocalypse, their lives may depend on this warrior’s skills.

Their flight takes them to a tiny Italian community where a mysterious priest is curing zombies. There, Kayla and Liam’s shared horror draws them together.  But they aren’t the only ones who want the cure.

As the threat of the living eclipses the danger of the undead, they must decide whether to run, or to fight for those they love.

“Zombies Geralyn?” a friend said to me. “It’s not a zombie novel,” I always said, “It’s a love story that has zombies in it.” I relished writing scenes of gritty hand-to-hand combat between undead, the living and rebel/terrorist fighters. Snappy dialogue and off-beat humour was my joy. But it’s the relationship that develops between Liam and Kayla that I’m most proud of. You can pick it up here.

Other excellent books I read included: The Forgotten Trinity (White), Wheat Belly (Davis), The Amazing Connection Between Food and Love (Smalley), A Whole New Mind (Pink), The Lord of the Rings (my third read-through of the giant classic), Divergent (Roth), The Republic (Plato), and City of Bones (Clare).

What Did You Read?

I’m curious. What were the best books you read this year? I’m always searching for a great new read. Right now I’m in the market for a great novel. Was there a book that changed you this year?

An Exceptionally Good Summer

Summer is over.  Manitoba’s autumn is the equivalent of winter in the coastal and southern areas–brain-freezing winds, thick frost, and gun-metal grey skies.

But it was a good summer.  I’ve been reflecting on this past summer and I’ve been so grateful for the great things that have happened this summer.  Here are the highlights.

Losing 30+ Pounds

This began in March, when I was introduced to the book Trim Healthy Mama.  The book advocates a low-glycemic, superfood approach to eating, which I have embraced.  This led to…

Running my First 5K

And my second, third and fourth.  I began the Couch to 5K program in mid-June, and ran my first race on August 17th, about nine weeks later.  Since the completion of the program, I have slowly been increasing my distance and speed.

Road Trip with Jess

In the first week of July, my sister and I packed up my little car and booted off to Minneapolis for a week of shopping, touring, and sister-time.  Neither of us had shopped at the Mall of America.  So we spent two eight-hour days shopping!  After that we were sick of the place, and toured a historic mansion, attended a Independence Day celebration at Fort Snelling, and drank a LOT of coffee.

 Publishing my First Novel

After a marathon of editing, and formatting, We are the Living was released as an E-book in August, and a print edition was released in September.  My friends and family, who didn’t have to format and edit it, were much more excited than I. 🙂

It’s a post-zombie-apocalypse-lovestory mishmash, and a beautiful story of hope in bleak places.  I hope it will be a stepping stone to greater things.  I sure learned a lot from it.

A New Church

Leaving the church of my childhood was like leaving home and family.  Now I am safely ensconced in a new church in town.  It is slowly becoming home.  I became a member of the choir two weeks ago, and now I feel like I have a family within the church family at large.

What Next?

So what will the winter hold?  For starters, I’m going to learn how to run on a treadmill.  I have no interest in running in -40 weather, so the treadmill will need to be my best friend.  I’ve never used one, so this might be funny for everyone else.

I have plans to complete National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) by writing the first book in a series, which I plan to debut late next year.  In the meantime, I am editing a sci-fi novel, for release in the spring.

And you know, I’m kind of looking forward to Christmas.  Too soon?

How was your summer?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Don’t Write Christian Books

The Misunderstood Power of Christian Art: Part 3

I’m the person who skips through the ‘preachy’ sections, searching for the part where the romance and adventure begins again.  I’m the person who sighs heavily when the beleaguered protagonist falls to his knees.  I’m the one who rants on demand about how I can’t stand God’s Not Dead.  But why?

In Separating the Pulpit from the Novelist’s Pen, I talked about the notion that novels and movies must contain sermons and ‘lessons’.  I’ve often felt guilty for not relating to these parts.  I DO believe those sermons, right?  I do believe that God isn’t dead, and that faith is rational.  Heck, I’m a homeschooled, choir singing, Sunday School teaching Christian nice girl.

Meanwhile, I’ve been writing stories with curses, clones, clandestine romance, gladiator-like fighters and zombies.  I toy with profanity, and dance in the grey areas between darkness and light.  True, wisdom often dictates that I go back and censor myself, but eventually I had to decide that there isn’t something wrong with me.  I was just called to something different.

I am convinced that each artist must fulfill the role that only they can fill–be it in the genre of Christian fiction, or in the mainstream genres.  And mainstream is where I belong.

The Box Opened and I Jumped Out

I expect that Christian fiction, as an industry, was developed to provide a clean alternative to mainstream book genres.  This is certainly needed, because what passes as a ‘romance’ novel these days is more like soft-core pornography in written form.  Even genres that are not pegged as romantic contain a lot of this material.  Furthermore, the cynicism and nihilism present there might be useful to provoke thought, but as a regular diet it is not beneficial.  Essentially, the mainstream lacks truth.

However, in our efforts to provide an acceptable alternative, I feel we have created a sanitary little ghetto that we dare not poke our heads out of.  We keep to the basic basic plot of mission, failure, wise sermon, repentance, miraculous victory and positive resolution.  We recoil at the mention of sex, wash the blood out of our violence, and skirt wide around vulgar language.

That’s not wrong, but I don’t like it.

In the genre of speculative fiction, writing becomes even more tricky.  Draw in clones, immortal characters, or magic and theology is no longer straightforward.  Christian authors begin day-long debates over if clones can have souls, if magic can be attributed to the Holy Spirit, or if granting characters immortality is unbiblical.

“But immortal people don’t even exist!” I say, “Suspend the theology for a second.”

So I guess you could say I left the genre to get out of the box.  I want to honour God, make no mistake, but I need the artistic freedom to tell a story without having to check off the boxes or screen it through a certain size of filter.  As I said in the first part of The Misunderstood Power of Christian Art, censorship should come from wisdom or conviction–not out of fear of what people will say.  To tell a story I have to go places that are uncomfortable.  I make no apologies for that.  Sometimes one must look past the surface actions and words, and look at the ideas and feelings being imparted, and the questions that may be raised.

The Mainstream Isn’t in the Christian Aisle

The clean offerings of the Christian genre are an excellent alternative for Christians, but are they effective in outreach?  Are mainstream readers buying Christian books?  Some are, perhaps, but for the most part ‘religious stuff’ is unintelligible to them, and ‘Christian’ isn’t a keyword they are searching for.

Christians have their books, their truth.  Who will tell the truth to unbelievers?  I want to.

So many blogs are spreading gossip, spewing vitriol and cynicism.  I want mine to be positive, speaking hope about personal change and good relationships.  The shelves are full of books that glorify violence, sex, self-indulgence and manipulation.  I want mine to be about purpose, integrity in adversity, hope and sacrificial love.

I want to tell the truth in a world of lies.

The First Seed

I see my role as preparatory.  My generation neither knows, nor respects the Bible.  Their gospel is tolerance, and ‘awareness’ is their salvation.  If I quote chapter and verse, I might as well be quoting Dickens.

But do they have a purpose to life?  Are they fulfilled?  Does their life have a foundation?  I once asked a coworker, about my age and an atheist, what he based his life on.  He had no idea.  I don’t think he’d considered this.

That is precisely the kind of question I’d like to raise.  I want to be the salter of the oats, so to speak.  Or at very least, provide a good story that is full of good principles, not lies.

Missional Media

In the past, authors reached the world through a publishing company.  But in this age of the independent author (indie), the writer engages and markets through social media.  The reader might stumble across my book, but just as likely they will meet me first.  I may start a conversation with them on Twitter.  They may read my blog.  I may have met them on Facebook and connected over a shared interest.  Writing is increasingly ‘missional’ that way.  I go to them.

Therefore, what I DO is just as important as what I say.  Make no mistake.  I cannot sit in my basement (as if a third floor apartment could have a basement… but I digress) and write.  I have to genuinely care about people, wade into the stream of social media, notice, encourage, speak out.  I can’t claim to be good at this, but the potential in it is breathtaking.

To Conclude the Series

Christian art is a nebulous thing, if my wobbly definition can be trusted.  But though it’s hard to pin down, we cannot fear it.  It is the primary medium by which my generation absorbs information.  Who better than Christian artists to reach them–especially the young artists.  They understand the technology, the language, the cultural references.  They are the ‘indigenous missionaries’ of North America.  They shouldn’t be minimized, or forced to conform.  Rather, empower them to produce the best music, film and literature they can–full of grace and truth.  And encourage them to take it to as many people as they can.

 

The Misunderstood Power of Christian Art: Part 1

The Misunderstood Power of Christian Art: Part 2

Recommended Reading:

Tim Downs, Finding Common Ground

Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

Dorothy Sayers, “Why Work?”  The whole essay is available in PDF form here.

 

 

 

 

10 Things I’m Thankful For

In a few hours it will be my birthday.

I’ve been absent from the blogosphere this week, due to the pendulum swing of my schedule.  While on day shifts, I try to make up for the lack of social life while I’m working evenings.  My brain has been packed, and much of what I’ve come up with to write is so snarky I don’t dare infect you with it.

So, in hopes of soothing my soul and inspiring you, I’d like to share ten things I’m thankful for–at the dawn of my 24th year.

In no particular order…

1. Strawberry the Car

This week I’ve logged a lot of miles in my magic carpet.  I picked up the print edition of We are the Living from the courier (an hour and fifteen minutes away), I went to dinner with two college friends, and before the week is out, Strawberry’s little wheels will take me to my second 5K race.  Since I got my own car (after 5 years of waiting) I’ve been granted a whole new level of freedom.  I’m grateful for that.

2. A job that challenges me.

I’ve worked at the pharmaceutical plant for a year and a half now, and the job has yet to get easy.  That’s perfect, even if it is frustrating at times (like today).  As long as it keeps me learning I won’t get bored or stagnate.

3. I work in pyjamas all day!

Scrubs, actually, but they’re just as comfortable.  Some people don’t like wearing a uniform, but I wouldn’t change it.  They’re loose, modest, and save on laundry.

4. Coffee

Mmm… coffee.

5. Autumn is coming

Now, this also means that winter is coming, which in Manitoba is a six-month affair… but let’s not think that far.  I look forward to the crisp air, the falling leaves, and pumpkin everything–except those fake pumpkin syrup things every coffee shop hawks at us.  Ew!  Pumpkin cheesecake (sugar free, low carb) is on the birthday menu tomorrow.

6. Stevia

The secret to healthy living, as far as I’m concerned.

7. Coworkers who are also friends.

I’ve had some excellent coworkers over the last three years, and I’m pleased to still call many of them friends.  Work is so much better with them!

8. WiFi at home

Wow, what a relief to not have to drive, walk or bike to find WiFi!  As a blogger, it was getting a bit ridiculous.  I was single-handedly supporting every coffee shop in town, I think.

9. The Electric Donkey

Also known as my next 5K race, and what has been motivating me for the last month.  I’m so excited!

10. My family

We’ve had some wonderful visits lately.  Our bonfire pit has added another six inches of ash to its layers, I think.  They’re the best people to hang out and drink coffee with on a Saturday evening, and I look forward to celebrating my birthday with them tomorrow.  I’ll bring the cheesecake!

So tell me?  What are you thankful for?  Feel free to comment with your own lists.

 

 

It Never Became Light Again

Combat veteran Liam’s steely calm has not failed, but after the traumatic death of one of his friends, his facade slips and we get a glimpse of his past.  A scene from We are the Living.

I walked out to the truck and looked at the bullet hole through the tailgate, at the piled boxes, the scattered bottles, and the blood—a dark dried stain that stabbed me harder than any cry. Just like that, fury overtook me.

I slammed the tailgate down and jumped inside. One sweep of my arm, and half the boxes flew aside. A blue vodka bottle rattled across the truck bed, to my feet. There was a bloody handprint around it. I picked it up and hurled it out the back. It shattered against the building, scattering blue shards all over the packed earth. I took a bottle of water in each hand and poured it over the truck bed. Then I stripped off my shirt and began scrubbing at the stain.

The grey fabric turned burgundy and brown. I was only smearing it. I needed more water. I needed…

“Liam?”

I swung my head around. Simone, grim-faced, stared at me from the tailgate.

“Oh.” Her face sagged a moment. “Good idea. But let me get some water.”

I shoved the t-shirt across the blood again. A moment later the truck wobbled as Simone climbed up.

“Move over. I’ll pour it.” She held up a big plastic jug of water.

Mute, I crawled out of the way. She poured the water, and Alex’s blood streamed toward the tailgate. She just kept pouring, until it had all ebbed away. Then she set it down and came to hunker down by my side.

Everything she had done barely registered. My body shook, white light flashed behind my eyes.

Oh God. Oh God, no, no. Keep it together, please!

I shut my eyes tight, and the scenes that were so familiar played before my eyes like a movie—but worse, because it was not just before my eyes but around me, in my lungs, in my nostrils. One second, a laugh is burbling from my throat, next the screech of tearing metal and the boom of the explosion. The seat I’m in separates from my body and the roof parts as I pass through it. I hit the ground. I see Breanne, sprawled beside me, her eyes catch mine, her mouth parts, the light goes from her gaze. And then everything goes dark.

And it never truly became light again.

I didn’t want to, but I whimpered.

“Liam.”

This is my fault somehow. If we’d switched spots… if I hadn’t been…

“Liam.”

My eyes cleared, and I saw Simone’s heart-shaped face and bloodshot blue eyes staring up at me. She grabbed my bare arms and my confusion and anger gave way to shame, yet I forced myself to meet her eyes.

She shook me gently, “Liam, this wasn’t your fault. If anything, was it not mine?”

“What does it matter?” I looked down, past her.

“But it is what you are thinking, is it not?” And then, before I could react, she leaned in to me and her warm hands brushed up my arms to my neck. She kissed my jaw with rough, chapped lips. “Because it’s what I’m thinking too.”

I grabbed her shoulder, if only to brace myself against her. My skin could not decide if it should recoil, or tingle with warmth. A rough laugh squeaked through my lips. “I don’t know if you can call it thinking. I haven’t been so confused since…”
She reached up and touched the scar along my hairline. “Let me guess.”

I nodded.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’ll cover for you.”

I stared into her eyes, trying to formulate a response. Her head bobbed closer, and my mind made itself up. I pushed her gently away.
She looked down. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I said. “I just can’t… right now.”

She laughed breathlessly and backed away. She rose up into a crouch and scrunched her face into a smile of sorts. I had a feeling it was her brave face. “Well, we’d better find you a shirt. Can’t have people getting ideas.”

I laughed half-heartedly and followed her off the tailgate. The heaviness pushed away just for a moment, and then swooped back in deeper and harder than before.

We are the Living, a zombie apocalypse/love story is now available on Amazon Kindle, as well as other E-Readers through Smashwords.  The print edition (which I’ll admit I’m super pumped about) will be available within a few days!  

Zombie Baby

The following is an excerpt from my novel We are the Living, an apocalyptic love story set in a small Tuscan town.  In this scene, Liam and his colleague are cleaning corpses from a house in the dead city of Siena when they make an unexpected discovery:

“Liam, we forgot that one.” Gennarosa contorted her face in an attempt to adjust her mask without touching it. Her gloved hands were slick with gore and decomposed flesh. She tipped her chin toward a house with a green door and pots of dead, dry geraniums on the doorstep. Behind them, Max shouted at Julio as they came out of a store, carrying a corpse between them. The radio crackled, and someone rattled off in Italian. Gennarosa ignored it and so did I.

I sighed and stepped toward the door. I stood, gun trained on the door, and Gennarosa reached over and opened it. The door slammed against the wall. Through the protection of my respirator, I caught the faintest whiff of rotting flesh.

I peered into the semi dark.   The kitchen looked undisturbed, like the owner had stepped out for a bit and would soon return.

Gennarosa motioned for me to go first. We passed through the kitchen. The dining and living area had been tossed. Blood splattered up one wall, and there, below the bloodstain, was the bloated corpse of a man. His arm was flung out, fingers frozen, pointed toward the doorway. He was definitely dead, not infected.

I pushed open the bedroom door. Only a sliver of light peeked through the drapes. I pulled the flashlight from my belt and swung the beam of light around the room.

“Feet,” said Gennarosa, pointing.

Two shoes stuck out from behind the unmade bed, half covered by draped blankets. I rounded the bed, the gun trained on the feet and bundled bedclothes. Just as the body came into full sight, it moved.

I jumped back, taking Gennarosa with me. We crouched, half-expecting the body to spring up, or at least make another move. It didn’t. It remained as it was, with only the legs protruding from under the blanket.

“What the hell?” Gennarosa leaned forward, but stayed safely behind me.

I reached out with one foot and poked the leg. It didn’t move. To heck with it. I kicked it. There was a faint movement around what should have been the torso, and then a squeak.

“What?”

“I’m going to pull off the blanket,” Gennarosa took a step closer, “At the ready.”

Poised on the balls of her feet, she leaned forward and yanked away the blanket.

“Oh God,” Gennarosa said.

The body was that of a woman, whose long dark hair splayed away from her browning skull, face erased. Her arms were locked around a little form, a baby. The baby was burrowed into the woman’s body-cavity, intestines spread around it like dried sausages.

It lifted its head. Its face was grey, eyes vacant and its cheeks were smeared with blood. It was a zombie baby.

 

We are the Living is now available for purchase through Amazon Kindle, and for Kobo, iBooks and other platforms through Smashwords.  You can download samples on those sites, or read samples I have posted here.

 

 

3 Videos to Lighten up your Tuesday

I don’t feel like being serious today.  I am being serious.  But I don’t feel like it.

Face it, it’s been a long week and it’s only Tuesday.  I’m in the thick of publishing my first novel, We are the Living, and this is only one tiny problem in the sea of troubles this world is in.  I’m not here to discount those.  I’m just hoping to give you fifteen minutes of relief.  Here are three videos that give me the giggles.

1. Thunderstruck, Redneck Edition.

Admit it, you’ve always wondered what AC/DC would sound like with banjos.

2. I’m My Own Grandpa

And speaking of rednecks… one of the most convoluted family wreaths… er, trees you’ve ever seen.  This song has entertained my family for hours.

3. Seth MacFarlane does the ‘Taken’ phone call as Kermit the Frog

“I don’t have any money, but what I do have are a specific set of skills…”  This makes me giggle like a maniac every time!  Kermit starts around 5 min, but the first half includes other voices, including Tom Cruise imitating Donald Duck.

And there you go.  I hope this gladdened your heart.  I’m always looking for hilarious YouTube videos.  If you have ideas for me, please comment.  Keep them clean please!

Have a wonderful day.

Exciting News! ‘We are the Living’ Now Released

Hello Friends,

Can a Canadian Mennonite write a post-zombie-apocalyptic-romance novel set in Italy with Catholic heroes?

If you’d like to find out, We are the Living is now available on Kindle!  As many of you know, this is my first novel and I’ve been working on it for some time.  I’m excited to share it with you!

Kayla’s plans are as finely tuned as her cello, so when Liam joins her friends on their tour of Europe, she resents him.  The ex-soldier with a fragile psyche seems like a liability.  But when political turmoil in France explodes into a zombie apocalypse, their lives may depend on this warrior’s skills.

Their flight takes them to a tiny Italian community where a mysterious priest is curing zombies. There, Kayla and Liam’s shared horror draws them together.  But they aren’t the only ones who want the cure.

As the threat of the living eclipses the danger of the undead, they must decide whether to run, or to fight for those they love.

To read samples, click here or go to Amazon to download the first chapter.  Thanks for your support!

 

 

3 Reasons Why Fear is Good

“Once fear enters your life—whether it’s been there for a second or a lifetime makes no difference—it will take you in one of two directions: empowerment or panic,”—Georges St. Pierre.

I never expected a man so competent in physically dominating other people to talk so much about fear.  Georges St. Pierre is a mixed martial arts fighter of great acclaim. Though currently retired, the Canadian athlete is considered one of the best UFC fighters of all time.

photo credit: wikimedia commons

I picked up his autobiography in a local used bookstore. It had migrated, most amusingly, into the Christianity section. I pulled it from the shelf, laughed about its location with my friends, and then ended up buying it. “Don’t judge me,” I said. Even pacifist Mennonite writers can take an interest in Ultimate Fighting.  I don’t understand the urge to fight.  I’m not sure I agree with it.  But I’ve learned you can learn a great deal from anyone who is at the top of his game, and St. Pierre is one such person.

Lesson one: anyone who becomes a champion must push past fear. Based on how much St. Pierre talks about it, he must have conquered a lot of fear.

Fear Needn’t be Negative

“The key, I discovered, is to understand fear and how it works… I don’t have a choice, because fear walks next to you everywhere in life. It has a reason for being there. People feel fear because they sense a threat… So fear’s purpose is ultimately good—that’s what people forget. Fear is designed to bring you to a safe place…

The problem with fear is that it’s talking to you about the future—it says, MOVE! Something else that is bad and painful could be coming your way… And people are like animals in this instance; they tend to follow their instincts. They follow the fear and dedicate all their energy to moving out of the way, toward safety.”

We tend to see fear as a negative thing, and understandably so. It’s painful to be afraid. It puts a lot of stress on our emotions, our minds, and even our bodies. But fear can actually be quite valuable. First, in instances of actual, physical danger, fear releases adrenaline and give our bodies the strength to survive. Second, fear can be the motivator that gives us the strength to win. Our dread can be our driver.

Dread Drove him to Victory

St. Pierre wrote about his first UFC fight. He was caught in his opponent’s hold, and everyone thought he was done. But he knew if he lost he wouldn’t be able to pay rent, or buy food that month. His opponent was fighting to win. He was fighting to survive.

“I was ready to die to get out of that hold. Break my arm if you have to, I thought. I didn’t have a choice. So I used the surge of adrenaline to roll him, got him on his back, and won. The fear-based adrenaline, the training and the empowerment of making a decision all helped me to victory.”

Our fear can be the ‘why’ that makes us push hard enough to win.  One reason this works is that fear can drive us to prepare for the unexpected.

Fear Keeps us Moving

“Standing still is never a good option. Not in the ring, and not in life outside the octagon either. When you stop moving, you’re done. When the status quo becomes your main weapon, your arsenal is diminished. When you can find no other way forward except for repetition, your mistakes are compounded into defeat.”

We’ve heard of the ‘deer in the headlights’. Those who grew up in wooded areas may have experienced the moment when the deer appears from nowhere, lit up by your headlights. You freeze. The deer freezes. What happens?

Smack!

It’s bad for the both of you, trust me.

Likewise, if we freeze from fear, we’ll lose. But fear can drive us to improve in order to master our fears and be prepared.

“I want to fight guys who are better than me in all kinds of techniques. I want my training to be harder than my actual fights so I can be prepared to face the toughest opponents—so I can be ready to deal with fear.”

My Own Fears

When I began writing this post, I thought I was afraid of my book not selling–of being a failure as an author.  I realized that this isn’t the case.  I’m afraid of judgement and embarrassment.

I am no more than a month away from releasing We are the Living, and I am mentally preparing myself for the worst.  It’s my first book. How good could it possibly go? I know that success is usually a process of small increments (something GSP says himself) but I dread being asked “so, how many books have you sold?” and having to answer, “ten.”  So this fear drives me to research, to mentor with other writers, to tweak, to write better and better, and to network more and more. Ambition drives me too, but fear provides double the motivation.

If there is any theme in GSP’s biography, it is that success is stress, tension, fear, never accepting ‘good enough,’ and never, ever being done. But it is clear that he’d never trade it for a comfortable, couch-potato existence.  I don’t know enough about him to say if he is a man of good character.  No doubt he’s done things I disagree with (being a UFC fighter not the least of them).  But he is clearly a smart and courageous man, and I can admire that.

I’m going to contemplate the idea of fear and examine my reactions to see where they are fear based.  How many of my decisions are based on fear?  Probably more than I’d like to admit.  But recognizing them is the first step to growth.

Judge this Book by its Cover

We are the Living is so close to release I can almost taste it.  In fact I do taste it.  It savours of puke at the back of my throat, I’m so dang nervous!  Here is the first look at the cover.

The description from the back:

“Kayla’s plans are as finely tuned as her cello, so when Liam joins her friends on their tour of Europe, she resents him.  The ex-soldier with a fragile psyche seems like a liability.  But when political turmoil in France explodes into a zombie apocalypse, their lives may depend on this warrior’s skills.

Their flight takes them to a tiny Italian community where a mysterious priest is curing zombies. There, the Kayla and Liam’s shared horror draws them together.  But they aren’t the only ones who want the cure.

As the threat of the living eclipses the danger of the undead, they must decide whether to run, or to fight for those they love.”

Stay tuned!

Geralyn