In which I talk about what's happening with my book

"What's happening with your book?" I get that a lot. In addition to, "How did you get your hair to do that cool thing?" and "Are you sure that's how 'research' is pronounced?" Or from my students: "Did you grade all the things yet?" Or from my kids: "Do we have any of those Spiderman fruit snacks left?"

I'm good for an equal measure of answers. Dunno. Maybe. Still foggy on that one. Okay?

But the book question plagues me a lot and so I thought I'd lay it out bare. Here's what's happening with my book.

You may remember how I wrote a spiritual memoir about my intercultural marriage. And how I got an agent and she turned out to be wonderful. She helped me craft a killer proposal and she submitted it to two full rounds of Christian publishers. My agent has been as kind and thorough as she has been prayerful.

Her positude has made a huge difference because the road to finding a publisher can be quite negative. Waiting and waiting seems to beget more waiting and then the door one's been knocking on opens quickly and then closes. The rejection feels rare and fresh every time. It's been a long process of all of that. All said, I've been pouring my guts into this book--the writing and the pitching and the proposing for about three years.

After two rounds of rejections from publishers, here are three things I've learned:

1. I am not Oprah. I am not Oprah's best friend Gayle. I am not Joel Osteen or his wife or anyone whom they'd remember in the Osteen will. Ergo, I am not famous and a book deal isn't going to fall into my lap. My platform, the invisible box upon which I stand to promote my ideas, is pretty microscopic compared to others who score big book deals. This is an obvious hurdle and not one to easily dismiss. Publishers care about platform and it's more than just being invited to the popular girls' table in the cafeteria. It's a marketing base. It's a branding package. It's the underpinnings to some really successful empires.

2. I am so close to this book. My kind colleague and his wife taught me that. They recently read the manuscript and gave me some keen feedback which is helping me to shape a new iteration of it. Because this book is so intertwined in the fibers of my being, to be perfectly dramatic, I needed some distance from it. I needed some extra eyeballs to help me reshape it. I'm so grateful for their input and for all who have helped me to keep believing.

3. I still believe in this book. When I hear of others struggling through issues in their family or marriage that fall into the bucket of intercultural relationships, my heart starts beating fast.  This is my bag! I want to say, "I have so dealt with something similar," followed by a, "And I hope you enjoy Chapter 4, if only for a laugh about what not to do, courtesy yours truly." I believe there is a captive audience for my book. I believe that there is potential for this book to really bless others and to be a part of some important conversations that have for too long felt too awkward to broach.

So to the question of what's happening with my book: it's gearing up for the sprint home. It's in better shape than it's ever been. It's so ready to break through a publisher's ribbon and to stand in the winner's circle. But first, let me take a selfie.

Walking in Memphis

Memphis is the kind of city that you can fall hard for, and even though it will take a lot of gritty work, you can see a long relationship if you both do your part. Memphis is not like a Charleston or a Malibu or a Newport, the kind of cities that make you swoon, the kind that give you butterflies and the notion that life will always be this easy and beautiful and well-lit. Even though you know it won't, because at some point the vacation ends and real life in that town begins.

Memphis is more like a Detroit or a Cleveland or a Savannah--cities endowed with natural beauty, but which are a little more weathered because of what they've seen. A little less polished because of how they've been treated. But still you know that with a lot of care and investment, this could shape up to be a beautiful love story....

*** I fell hard for Memphis  and I don't care what anyone says. The neighborhoods of Evergreen, Overton Park, Cooper-Young, Midtown rose up to meet me and the sun shone warmly on my back. We scored a great little AirBnB cottage that was perfect for our family of 4. Seriously, fabulous. Message me if you want to know which.

Beale Street enchanted me mid-day.  Graceland ravished me with secrets about the King. Butler Park romanced me, the ducks at the Peabody Hotel enamored me, the National Civil Rights Museum enthralled me, and Muddy's Bakery melted me in every way. The Neighborhood Church still has my kids singing all the songs (shout-out to Meredith--you are SUCH a blessing). The Memphis Zoo is fantastic (really well-manicured and a good number of exhibits--could have done without the bats, reptiles exhibit. Still can't get the smell out of that place from making me viscerally gag. Ack.). I'd like to explore the Main St. area more and I'd definitely like to go back and check out the CMOM and do a tour of St. Jude's.

Overton Park

Looking out at the Mississippi

Exploring Downtown, Main St. 

National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel

Muddy's Grind House - recommend everything. The cupcakes were reeedonk.

The beautiful Peabody Hotel and their beloved fine-feathered guests

Memphis has soul, it's been said, and now I understand why. Memphians greet you with wide smiles, open hearts, and quick laughs. Marc Cohn, I get you now, bro. I totally do feel the way you feel.

The FamiLee visits the Lorraine Motel

We took the kids to Memphis this week. I'd like to pat ourselves on the back for doing a bang-up job of priming them for why Memphis is such a significant place in shaping this country's history. In particular, we took the kids to the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel. As historical showcases go, the museum is just phenomenal. Interactive media, gorgeous photos, and very memorable displays that take one through the history from slavery to the civil rights movement, even ending with a segment on human trafficking.

The tricky thing is that we waited until the 3p entry because Tennesseans need only present their state-issued license to get in free on Mondays! The kids were a little over-hyped by that point. We didn't want to be those parents harping the whole time; we have realistic expectations of how a 6 year-old and a 4 year-old behave in a museum about topics that are way over their heads. Example: they got on the bus with a replica of Rosa Parks and the bus driver chastising her and they were spooked. Dude. Why isn't she moving? Oh. It's a statue. And also, it's Rosa Parks. Complexity.

The part of the museum that takes visitors through a reconstructed room #306 is just very special. You peer into the last place where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. rested his head before he walked out with his brother and friends and was shot on the balcony by James Earl Ray. You see the books that were tucked into King's suitcase. The passage is cloaked in blue and the music playing is beautiful, funereal and the whole mood is reverent.

As we approached the window to peer in on room #306, my little man said loudly, "Shhh. We're about to meet Elvis."

Memphis, y'all.