“If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will find true life.” Mark 8:35
If we played the word-association game, what would your first thought be if I said, “Gamble?”
I admit, more than a single-associated thought pops into my mind.
When I see or hear the word gamble, my head fills with a flood of images—very defined images. I see shiny red and white dotted dice bouncing along a decorated green felt table. I hear the clickity-clack of a spinning, checkered black and red roulette wheel. I see a deck of playing cards being expertly cut and shuffled. I can feel the growing sound of thunder as the pounding hoofs of horses round the last leg of a race, as kicked up clouds of dirt linger along the trail. To top it off, all these images I visualize behind flashing Vegas-style neon lights.
Okay, I have a bit of an over-active imagination, but I’d be willing to bet (no pun intended) many of the things I described above are similar to thoughts that pop into your mind when you hear and see the word, “Gamble.”
Believe it or not, whether we realize it or not, we gamble every day. We gamble with our lives when we get into a car; we gamble with our health when deciding what food to eat; and we gamble with our spirituality when we choose a certain way to live our lives.
Many years back I worked as a freelance writer for a local paper. I covered human-interest stories throughout Rochester. I loved meeting and interviewing interesting and intriguing people.
One night I covered an event at a party house where volunteer firefighters were being specially recognized for achievements throughout that year. I listened to one particular captain talk about a fireman under his command. Without using a lot of adjectives to try and make his story more interesting, he spoke in a simple, matter-of-fact way, which I believe had an effect bringing the rendition to life.
Goosebumps scaled my arms as I listened to the details of a dangerous rescue. That winter a child had fallen into a body of icy water and went under. The first volunteer fireman on the scene dove into the water, searching for the child. The temperature outside was frigid, but the temperature of the water was deadly. The fireman was in just as much danger of drowning as the boy he hoped to recover. After a seemingly impossible amount of time had passed, the fireman swam to the surface, the unconscious boy in his arms. After performing CPR and other life-saving techniques, the boy regained consciousness and lived.
When the captain called front-and-center the fireman up for this courageous award, I was a taken aback because I not only knew the man, but worked with him as well. He was an attorney-by-day at Kodak. Never in all of our dealings together did he once mention that he was a volunteer fireman. Never once did he mention that he had saved a child from drowning.
Mark 8:35 talks about the risk of only living for oneself. The rewards from God come when we deny self, pick up our cross and follow Him. Living for others, serving others, helping others is clearly Jesus’ reoccurring theme throughout the Gospels and the New Testament. Don’t misunderstand me, good works will not get you into heaven, if that were the case, then Jesus’ death on the cross was pointless. (Salvation is a free gift to those who accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior and invite Him in to their hearts, to be the center of their life). But as a Christian we should want to live our lives doing for the benefit of others.
I am not a volunteer fireman, but metaphorically speaking, I do know many people who are drowning in some pretty icy water. The question I often ask myself is, will I just stand where it is safe with the rest of the onlookers—hoping help will arrive in time, or like my friend the attorney/fireman, will I dive in and attempt to make a difference . . . one person at a time?
Thomas Phillips,
Author of the suspense thriller, The Molech Prophecy
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Good And Faithful Servant
In Matthew 25:14-30, Jesus tells his disciples the parable of the three servants.
In this parable, a master is about to go on a long trip. He calls together his three servants and gives them his money to hold onto while he’s away. One gets five bags of silver, one receives two bags, and the third is entrusted with one bag.
When their master finally returns, he once again calls for his three servants. He wants to know what has happened to his silver. The first, who had five bags, informs the master that he’s worked hard, invested the five bags and doubled the amount of silver. The second servant has a similar story, giving back to his master four bags of silver. The third servant did absolutely nothing with his bag of silver except bury it somewhere safe. And now he returned to his master the same bag of silver that had been entrusted to him in the first place.
The master is furious. He can’t understand why his servant didn’t at least deposit the money in the bank where it would earn interest. The master takes the one bag of silver away from the third servant and gives it to the servant with the ten bags. He then has the lazy servant thrown and locked out of his kingdom forever.
This particular parable always troubled me. For years, I just didn’t get why the master was so angry. The third servant didn’t lose any of his master’s money. In fact, in keeping it hidden he protected the silver. But then I realized that the bags of silver could represent silver, but they could also represent many other things. Like talent, for example. Or time. Or Love.
Everything we have been given is God’s. He has allowed us the opportunity to be blessed with whatever it is that we posses. When He finally returns He’s going to want to know what we have done with what He has given us.
I believe God has given me the gift of writing. When He returns He may want to know what I’ve done to further His kingdom with the gift He’s given me. (I often pray that writing brings deserving honor and glory to God and helps to further His Kingdom).
In the parable, when the master saw that the first two servants had doubled their bags of silver, it wasn’t the fact that he was now richer that excited him. It was the fact that his servants used their talents in a way that honored him. For this he said to them, “Well done my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together.”
There are promises in this statement. Obviously, the master in this parable is God and we are the servants. God has clearly entrusted us with plenty of blessings and gifts—especially living here in America, the land of the free. When He returns—and He will return--are we going to be able to give an account for what we’ve done with all that we’ve been given? Or will we be like that third servant who did nothing with all that he had been given? Will we get to hear the glorious words, “Well done good and faithful servant?”
Thomas Phillips,
Author of the suspense thriller, The Molech Prophecy
In this parable, a master is about to go on a long trip. He calls together his three servants and gives them his money to hold onto while he’s away. One gets five bags of silver, one receives two bags, and the third is entrusted with one bag.
When their master finally returns, he once again calls for his three servants. He wants to know what has happened to his silver. The first, who had five bags, informs the master that he’s worked hard, invested the five bags and doubled the amount of silver. The second servant has a similar story, giving back to his master four bags of silver. The third servant did absolutely nothing with his bag of silver except bury it somewhere safe. And now he returned to his master the same bag of silver that had been entrusted to him in the first place.
The master is furious. He can’t understand why his servant didn’t at least deposit the money in the bank where it would earn interest. The master takes the one bag of silver away from the third servant and gives it to the servant with the ten bags. He then has the lazy servant thrown and locked out of his kingdom forever.
This particular parable always troubled me. For years, I just didn’t get why the master was so angry. The third servant didn’t lose any of his master’s money. In fact, in keeping it hidden he protected the silver. But then I realized that the bags of silver could represent silver, but they could also represent many other things. Like talent, for example. Or time. Or Love.
Everything we have been given is God’s. He has allowed us the opportunity to be blessed with whatever it is that we posses. When He finally returns He’s going to want to know what we have done with what He has given us.
I believe God has given me the gift of writing. When He returns He may want to know what I’ve done to further His kingdom with the gift He’s given me. (I often pray that writing brings deserving honor and glory to God and helps to further His Kingdom).
In the parable, when the master saw that the first two servants had doubled their bags of silver, it wasn’t the fact that he was now richer that excited him. It was the fact that his servants used their talents in a way that honored him. For this he said to them, “Well done my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together.”
There are promises in this statement. Obviously, the master in this parable is God and we are the servants. God has clearly entrusted us with plenty of blessings and gifts—especially living here in America, the land of the free. When He returns—and He will return--are we going to be able to give an account for what we’ve done with all that we’ve been given? Or will we be like that third servant who did nothing with all that he had been given? Will we get to hear the glorious words, “Well done good and faithful servant?”
Thomas Phillips,
Author of the suspense thriller, The Molech Prophecy
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Harvest Show (Pt. III)
It was time for me to take a seat on the set next to the two hosts that would be interviewing me, Kelly Morgan and Stefan Radelich. After the assistant producer clipped a mike to my sport coat, and attached the battery to the back of my pants, I stepped onto the stage, and immediately felt the heat from the lights. (This might explain why, off stage, the place felt more like an igloo.)
While we were still on a commercial break, Larry used my digital camera to snap photos of me with the hosts.
I'd asked the assistant producer earlier where I was supposed to look during the interview. Just make eye contact with hosts? Look at the camera? Keep my eyes closed?
I was instructed to constantly look at Kelly and Stefan. Never at the camera.
Naturally, as soon as I got comfy in the leather chair, the mike battery unclipped off my pants.
Ten seconds left of the last commercial.
I fumbled with the clip and finally just left it behind me and hoped if I sat on it by accident, it wouldn't cut out sound.
Then we were live.
Kelly and Stefan spent the next twelve minutes asking me questions that ranged from my growing up with a reading disability, and hating to read, to Wicca, research and the plot for the Molech Prophecy.
Luckily, they were questions I'd answered a million times before. Being comfortable with the questions helped me relax, and focus. And before I knew it, the interview was ending. It was over.
After the taping of the show, and Larry headed off to the airport, I was given a tour of the studio. LeSea is an impressive facility with stations across the globe. I will not get into all I learned, but encourage you to read up on the history of this network. Before leaving I was given a DVD of the show which included my interview and was off to the airport.
So. It's 10:30 AM. My flight out of Indiana is at 3:28 PM.
I have a book with me, Charlie Huston's Six Bad Things. (I'd finished reading Every Last Drop on the flights down). But I was tired and if I read too much, I knew I'd fall asleep.
The plan was to get something to eat, hit the gift shops -- because I knew my kids would expect something on my return -- and walk the airport people watching, read and eventually board my flight.
Unfortunately, if you have never been to the South Bend Airport, there is only one sandwich shop, one gift shop. So I ate, bought some small gifts and walked the airport twice.
Now, it was close to 11:00.
Uh-huh.
So I sat by United Express and took my book out of my bag. My airline tickets were my bookmark. I studied them.
Departing South Bend: 3:28 PM
Arriving O'Hara Chicago: 3:25 PM
I looked at it again. Panic filled me. Someone messed up my tickets. How in the world could I leave at 3:28 and land three minutes earlier? Impossible!
I ran up to the United counter. I showed the woman at the ticket booth my tickets. "Someone made a mistake on my tickets!" I wanted this cleared up. I didn't want to be stranded anywhere. I knew I had plenty of time before my flight left -- but you never know.
The woman smiled at me in the way older people smile at kids who have done something cute. "That's because Chicago's in a different time zone."
"Well, yeah," I said. I needed to pull this off so I didn't look too stupid. "I just assumed the tickets would show a consistent time ..."
Didn't work.
"But if you want," she said. "We can get you to Chicago on a flight leaving in a half hour?"
I exchanged tickets and took an early flight to O'Hara. I figured, at least in Chicago airport (which is Huge, Rochester, Huge), I could people watch, roam around and read if I wanted with plenty of activity going on all around. My flight out of O'Hara to Rochester was scheduled to leave at 4:54 PM ... or would it be 3:54? To be honest, at this point, no clue. I just knew that, no matter what, I'd be there and ready ahead of schedule.
I landed in O'Hara and thought, hey -- maybe I could exchange my late flight for an earlier flight to Rochester. I wasn't going to hold my breath. But when I asked at the counter, I was told a flight was leaving for Rochester in two hours. I was told they'd transfer my suitcase to that flight and that I'd be all set --but to check before boarding to ensure my suitcase made it.
I wasn't getting on a plane without my suitcase in the belly of the beast. As it turns out, you can't anyway. I suppose that makes perfect sense, when you think about it.
A half hour before boarding time, I checked with the United employee to see if my bag had transferred successfully. It hadn't.
Great.
She said she'd check again in a half hour. She made some calls. Put some stuff into the computer about my bag and told me to have a seat. (I thought, whoever she called, and what ever she entered on her computer, wouldn't make a difference. Looking for a single rectangular shaped, black suitcase was hardly any one's priority...)
I was the last to stand to board. I asked the woman if she could double check on my bag. This time, I did hold my breath. I did not want to sit in an airport any longer, and just wanted to get home.
The bag had made it. It was on the plane. I was assigned a seat on the 737--No one sitting near, or even across from me -- and before I knew it, I was landing, safely, back in Rochester.
Overall, the experience had been awesome. I love to travel. Had never been to Indiana (or Chicago, lol), and had never been interviewed on a National TV show. If I never write again, if I never have anything new published ever again, I don't care. I really don't. I've been blessed time and again, and have done things others have only dreamed of doing.
Listen, thanks for reading this "The Harvest Show" series. Please stop back regularly, as I am committed to blogging on a much more regular basis!
If you haven't read The Molech Prophecy, it is in stores nationally, and can easily be ordered online!
Have a wonderful week!
Thomas Phillips
Author of The Molech Prophecy
While we were still on a commercial break, Larry used my digital camera to snap photos of me with the hosts.
I'd asked the assistant producer earlier where I was supposed to look during the interview. Just make eye contact with hosts? Look at the camera? Keep my eyes closed?
I was instructed to constantly look at Kelly and Stefan. Never at the camera.
Naturally, as soon as I got comfy in the leather chair, the mike battery unclipped off my pants.
Ten seconds left of the last commercial.
I fumbled with the clip and finally just left it behind me and hoped if I sat on it by accident, it wouldn't cut out sound.
Then we were live.
Kelly and Stefan spent the next twelve minutes asking me questions that ranged from my growing up with a reading disability, and hating to read, to Wicca, research and the plot for the Molech Prophecy.
Luckily, they were questions I'd answered a million times before. Being comfortable with the questions helped me relax, and focus. And before I knew it, the interview was ending. It was over.
After the taping of the show, and Larry headed off to the airport, I was given a tour of the studio. LeSea is an impressive facility with stations across the globe. I will not get into all I learned, but encourage you to read up on the history of this network. Before leaving I was given a DVD of the show which included my interview and was off to the airport.
So. It's 10:30 AM. My flight out of Indiana is at 3:28 PM.
I have a book with me, Charlie Huston's Six Bad Things. (I'd finished reading Every Last Drop on the flights down). But I was tired and if I read too much, I knew I'd fall asleep.
The plan was to get something to eat, hit the gift shops -- because I knew my kids would expect something on my return -- and walk the airport people watching, read and eventually board my flight.
Unfortunately, if you have never been to the South Bend Airport, there is only one sandwich shop, one gift shop. So I ate, bought some small gifts and walked the airport twice.
Now, it was close to 11:00.
Uh-huh.
So I sat by United Express and took my book out of my bag. My airline tickets were my bookmark. I studied them.
Departing South Bend: 3:28 PM
Arriving O'Hara Chicago: 3:25 PM
I looked at it again. Panic filled me. Someone messed up my tickets. How in the world could I leave at 3:28 and land three minutes earlier? Impossible!
I ran up to the United counter. I showed the woman at the ticket booth my tickets. "Someone made a mistake on my tickets!" I wanted this cleared up. I didn't want to be stranded anywhere. I knew I had plenty of time before my flight left -- but you never know.
The woman smiled at me in the way older people smile at kids who have done something cute. "That's because Chicago's in a different time zone."
"Well, yeah," I said. I needed to pull this off so I didn't look too stupid. "I just assumed the tickets would show a consistent time ..."
Didn't work.
"But if you want," she said. "We can get you to Chicago on a flight leaving in a half hour?"
I exchanged tickets and took an early flight to O'Hara. I figured, at least in Chicago airport (which is Huge, Rochester, Huge), I could people watch, roam around and read if I wanted with plenty of activity going on all around. My flight out of O'Hara to Rochester was scheduled to leave at 4:54 PM ... or would it be 3:54? To be honest, at this point, no clue. I just knew that, no matter what, I'd be there and ready ahead of schedule.
I landed in O'Hara and thought, hey -- maybe I could exchange my late flight for an earlier flight to Rochester. I wasn't going to hold my breath. But when I asked at the counter, I was told a flight was leaving for Rochester in two hours. I was told they'd transfer my suitcase to that flight and that I'd be all set --but to check before boarding to ensure my suitcase made it.
I wasn't getting on a plane without my suitcase in the belly of the beast. As it turns out, you can't anyway. I suppose that makes perfect sense, when you think about it.
A half hour before boarding time, I checked with the United employee to see if my bag had transferred successfully. It hadn't.
Great.
She said she'd check again in a half hour. She made some calls. Put some stuff into the computer about my bag and told me to have a seat. (I thought, whoever she called, and what ever she entered on her computer, wouldn't make a difference. Looking for a single rectangular shaped, black suitcase was hardly any one's priority...)
I was the last to stand to board. I asked the woman if she could double check on my bag. This time, I did hold my breath. I did not want to sit in an airport any longer, and just wanted to get home.
The bag had made it. It was on the plane. I was assigned a seat on the 737--No one sitting near, or even across from me -- and before I knew it, I was landing, safely, back in Rochester.
Overall, the experience had been awesome. I love to travel. Had never been to Indiana (or Chicago, lol), and had never been interviewed on a National TV show. If I never write again, if I never have anything new published ever again, I don't care. I really don't. I've been blessed time and again, and have done things others have only dreamed of doing.
Listen, thanks for reading this "The Harvest Show" series. Please stop back regularly, as I am committed to blogging on a much more regular basis!
If you haven't read The Molech Prophecy, it is in stores nationally, and can easily be ordered online!
Have a wonderful week!
Thomas Phillips
Author of The Molech Prophecy
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Harvest Show (Pt. II)
I had a fitful sleep. Tossed. Turned. Folded the pillows, hugged them, threw them. It's tough sleeping in a strange bed in a strange city. It's tough, that is, until the alarm clock goes off. At that point, all I can think about is hitting the snooze.
I was up, showered and in the hotel lobby by seven. Too nervous to eat, I poured a cup of coffee and laced it with five bags of sugar and cream. The biscuits, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes, muffins and bacon all looked and smelled awesome. Eating before an interview, or even a book signing, is something I stopped doing long, long ago. Silly reasons, really. First, I always fear a piece of food will be wedged between my teeth and everyone will know about it but me. And the second reason, throwing up. I think I am a calm person, and talk easily, can strike up conversations with strangers without a problem, but on a full stomach -- that might make for a different story all together.
Anyway, the ride to LeSea Studio was great. I had the same driver. We picked up our conversation right where we'd left off. We talked about South Bend history, my writing, and his son who is currently serving in the Marines in Afghanistan and dreams of, when he returns, writing novels for a living. So as he let me off at the LeSea front door, I gave him a business card and said to have his son contact me when he returned.
Once I checked in with the receptionist at LeSea, I was led to the infamous "green room". It looked like a studio apartment. Sofas, chairs, dining room table, refrigerator, bathroom and --this is what set it apart from a studio apartment --a make up mirror. I helped myself to a bottled water and sat on the sofa and read the local newspaper, thankful I passed on breakfast. My stomach fluttered, flopped and flipped the longer I waited.
After reading the entire paper, the receptionist brought someone else into the green room. Larry Julian. He's a non-fiction author who was also going to be interviewed on the show. With about fifteen minutes left to kill, the two of us talked. We covered topics ranging from our writing, books, and where we lived, to Indiana, the show and keeping in touch. It was good not to be alone in the trenches. (A little too over dramatic? Uh-huh. Thought so).
Regardless. The hosts of the show appeared one by one, along with a producer and the man who applied make-up (to us all). A round of introductions were made and right after I wished everyone wore name tags, because I couldn't remember a single name. (For those of you who know me, you know nerves has nothing to do with it. I just am really--I mean really--bad at remembering names).
We followed the assistant producer, a very friendly, helpful man, to the studio where The Harvest Show is shot. It may have been colder in the studio than it was outside. Two of the three cameramen wore winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves. Think I'm kidding? I'm not. The tip of my nose went numb while watching the show, and a new worry came to mind. Forget food in my teeth, or blowing chunks --those fears were put to rest when I skipped breakfast. No. Now I was worried about dripping ... well, snot.
Larry Julian was to be interviewed first. He's a professional speaker. Does speaking engagements across the states on a regular basis. I watched him answer questions with such natural, flawless talent, I couldn't help but wish I'd gone first. Mr. Julian, poised and confident, was going to be one tough interview to follow.
When Julian's interview ended, and the show went to commercial, he came over. He looked nervous, as if talking with the hosts had been terribly difficult for him. Which shocked me. I told him how good he'd done, and he said he was going to stick around and watch my interview. Very supportive. I appreciated that. And then he asked if he could pray for me, seeing as my nervous were clearly getting the best of me. We prayed, and I felt a bit relieved. A bit.
(Want more about my trip to Indiana and interview on The Harvest Show ... tune in tomorrow for the next installment, The Harvest Show Part III).
Thomas Phillips
I was up, showered and in the hotel lobby by seven. Too nervous to eat, I poured a cup of coffee and laced it with five bags of sugar and cream. The biscuits, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes, muffins and bacon all looked and smelled awesome. Eating before an interview, or even a book signing, is something I stopped doing long, long ago. Silly reasons, really. First, I always fear a piece of food will be wedged between my teeth and everyone will know about it but me. And the second reason, throwing up. I think I am a calm person, and talk easily, can strike up conversations with strangers without a problem, but on a full stomach -- that might make for a different story all together.
Anyway, the ride to LeSea Studio was great. I had the same driver. We picked up our conversation right where we'd left off. We talked about South Bend history, my writing, and his son who is currently serving in the Marines in Afghanistan and dreams of, when he returns, writing novels for a living. So as he let me off at the LeSea front door, I gave him a business card and said to have his son contact me when he returned.
Once I checked in with the receptionist at LeSea, I was led to the infamous "green room". It looked like a studio apartment. Sofas, chairs, dining room table, refrigerator, bathroom and --this is what set it apart from a studio apartment --a make up mirror. I helped myself to a bottled water and sat on the sofa and read the local newspaper, thankful I passed on breakfast. My stomach fluttered, flopped and flipped the longer I waited.
After reading the entire paper, the receptionist brought someone else into the green room. Larry Julian. He's a non-fiction author who was also going to be interviewed on the show. With about fifteen minutes left to kill, the two of us talked. We covered topics ranging from our writing, books, and where we lived, to Indiana, the show and keeping in touch. It was good not to be alone in the trenches. (A little too over dramatic? Uh-huh. Thought so).
Regardless. The hosts of the show appeared one by one, along with a producer and the man who applied make-up (to us all). A round of introductions were made and right after I wished everyone wore name tags, because I couldn't remember a single name. (For those of you who know me, you know nerves has nothing to do with it. I just am really--I mean really--bad at remembering names).
We followed the assistant producer, a very friendly, helpful man, to the studio where The Harvest Show is shot. It may have been colder in the studio than it was outside. Two of the three cameramen wore winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves. Think I'm kidding? I'm not. The tip of my nose went numb while watching the show, and a new worry came to mind. Forget food in my teeth, or blowing chunks --those fears were put to rest when I skipped breakfast. No. Now I was worried about dripping ... well, snot.
Larry Julian was to be interviewed first. He's a professional speaker. Does speaking engagements across the states on a regular basis. I watched him answer questions with such natural, flawless talent, I couldn't help but wish I'd gone first. Mr. Julian, poised and confident, was going to be one tough interview to follow.
When Julian's interview ended, and the show went to commercial, he came over. He looked nervous, as if talking with the hosts had been terribly difficult for him. Which shocked me. I told him how good he'd done, and he said he was going to stick around and watch my interview. Very supportive. I appreciated that. And then he asked if he could pray for me, seeing as my nervous were clearly getting the best of me. We prayed, and I felt a bit relieved. A bit.
(Want more about my trip to Indiana and interview on The Harvest Show ... tune in tomorrow for the next installment, The Harvest Show Part III).
Thomas Phillips
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Harvest Show (Pt. I)
It was ... maybe a month ago when my publicist contacted me asking if I wanted to appear as a guest author on South Bend, Indiana's The Harvest Show. Apparently, the international show is available to (TV, Radio) over 43 million viewers/listeners across the globe. Without hesitating, I agreed.
On Monday, January 25, 2009, I took an early flight (United Express) out of Rochester, NY to, first, Chicago, and a second flight to South Bend. I love to fly. Not a big fan of flying in winter. Luckily blue, clear skies made up the forecast.
Once in South Bend, I contacted the hotel, The Inn at St. Mary's, where I'd spend the night, for a shuttle from the airport. The driver, a friendly man, shared information about the city as we passed through. He pointed out the Studebaker auto plant and explained that while it used to take up most of the city, recent efforts to tear down old, abandoned buildings was under way in an effort to clean up the overall appearance.
We passed through the small downtown quickly, as I was told that the St. Mary's was across the street from the University of Notre Dame. Unfortunately, it was five degrees outside. And as much as I'd of loved to stroll the campus, the cold was something I'd disliked just a bit more.
The room I stayed in was fantastic. King size bed, sofa, coffee table, desk with internet hookup, large TV with cable ...
But I was hungry. A lot of the places I called had been closed down. The failing economy evident everywhere. I bought Chinese, had it delivered. It was expensive, but I hoped worth it. Again, unfortunately, it was not worth it. The food did not taste good. When I opened the fortune cookie at the end of the meal, the fortune was all right, but -- you know how now they put words in Chinese and then in english on the slips of paper, and then phonetically, so you can learn Chinese words, as well as how to pronounce them? Well, my Chinese word was Beijing. Guess what Beijing is in English? Uh-huh. Beijing. And, you'll love this, it is pronounced the same. Go figure.
Anyway. I made some phone calls home. Let everyone know I was all right, and settled in to watch some TV before falling asleep. Luckily, a new episode of HOUSE and 24 were on. Both were gripping and entertaining episodes.
They kept my mind off the morning, when I had to be up at six, and over to Lesea Studios before 8:20 AM.
Eventually, around midnight, I fell asleep.
(to be continued ... Look for The Harvest Show (Pt. II )
On Monday, January 25, 2009, I took an early flight (United Express) out of Rochester, NY to, first, Chicago, and a second flight to South Bend. I love to fly. Not a big fan of flying in winter. Luckily blue, clear skies made up the forecast.
Once in South Bend, I contacted the hotel, The Inn at St. Mary's, where I'd spend the night, for a shuttle from the airport. The driver, a friendly man, shared information about the city as we passed through. He pointed out the Studebaker auto plant and explained that while it used to take up most of the city, recent efforts to tear down old, abandoned buildings was under way in an effort to clean up the overall appearance.
We passed through the small downtown quickly, as I was told that the St. Mary's was across the street from the University of Notre Dame. Unfortunately, it was five degrees outside. And as much as I'd of loved to stroll the campus, the cold was something I'd disliked just a bit more.
The room I stayed in was fantastic. King size bed, sofa, coffee table, desk with internet hookup, large TV with cable ...
But I was hungry. A lot of the places I called had been closed down. The failing economy evident everywhere. I bought Chinese, had it delivered. It was expensive, but I hoped worth it. Again, unfortunately, it was not worth it. The food did not taste good. When I opened the fortune cookie at the end of the meal, the fortune was all right, but -- you know how now they put words in Chinese and then in english on the slips of paper, and then phonetically, so you can learn Chinese words, as well as how to pronounce them? Well, my Chinese word was Beijing. Guess what Beijing is in English? Uh-huh. Beijing. And, you'll love this, it is pronounced the same. Go figure.
Anyway. I made some phone calls home. Let everyone know I was all right, and settled in to watch some TV before falling asleep. Luckily, a new episode of HOUSE and 24 were on. Both were gripping and entertaining episodes.
They kept my mind off the morning, when I had to be up at six, and over to Lesea Studios before 8:20 AM.
Eventually, around midnight, I fell asleep.
(to be continued ... Look for The Harvest Show (Pt. II )
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Wiccans vs. Christians
I held two book signing events in Buffalo this past weekend.
At the first, two Wiccans approached the table where I sat and signed copies of my novel, The Molech Prophecy. They read the back cover of the book (provided below), and then proceeded to tell me how upset and offended they were about the story I’d written.
At the second signing, oddly enough, two different Wiccan’s came over to the signing table. They read the book’s back cover, and –seemingly excited—bought a copy.
To be clear, when writing fiction, everything still needs to remain primarily factual.
In The Molech Prophecy, the principal story revolves around Christians and a rogue Wiccan.
In my extensive research on Wicca, their beliefs and practices, I often came across their principal rule: Harm None.
The story I tell centers around a Wiccan coven leader who, in order to fulfill a prophecy, breaks the cardinal rule of his faith.
Is it “Hollywood” story-telling. Sure. Was it meant to be offensive? Of course not. Are the facts about Wicca that I incorporated into the story factual? You bet they are.
Unfortunately, when you write fiction or non-fiction, you will stumble across critics. Generally, I do not mind criticism—from someone who actually read my book. However, I do get offended as an author when my book receives negative criticism from someone who only spends forty seconds reading the back cover summary of the entire novel and from that, passes judgment.
What’s the best way to decide if The Molech Prophecy is offensive, or entertaining, is for you to read the book yourself – and then decide. And if you do—I would love to hear your thoughts, good, bad, or indifferent!
Here is a definition of Wicca, as described in an article found on Suite 101:
Wicca is a Pagan revival of European pre-Christian religions. Often called the religion of witches, the Wicca practice a religion of secrecy. They do not actively seek new members and they do not convert people to their religion.
Wicca is a loosely woven religion. Each Wiccan is allowed to choose what he or she believes. For example, some believe in reincarnation of the soul. Others believe that the soul travels to Summerland after the body dies. Still, others believe that we travel to Summerland after death and, when we are ready, reincarnate as birds, animals, and plants.
The origin of Wicca is hotly debated. Some believe that author Gerald Gardner invented Wicca. This is a half-truth. Wicca evolved from ancient Shamanism. It traveled through the ages, shaping and changing into classical Paganism. When Christianity gained power, Paganism was perverted into a fairytale of evil witches, imps, and satanic goats. Gerald Gardner, and others, took what was left of the Old Ways and rebuilt a new Pagan religion: Wicca. Wiccans practice a religion of duality. They believe in the God and Goddess or the Lord and Lady. Both God and Goddess are equal, and each presides over different aspects of nature and life. There is the Lord of the Hunt, Lady of the Woods, Sky Father, and Earth Mother.
The Wicca internalize their God and Goddess. They believe that their deities are within them and within all things in nature.
Wiccans are often accused of not having morals because they do not have a book that lists rules for behavior. Instead, Wiccans have one golden rule: do what you will, harm none. This simple rule governs all that Wiccans do.
Suite 101, Wicca Defined
http://paganismwicca.suite101.com/article.cfm/wicca_defined
Thomas Phillips
Author of The Molech Prophecy
In Stores Everywhere
At the first, two Wiccans approached the table where I sat and signed copies of my novel, The Molech Prophecy. They read the back cover of the book (provided below), and then proceeded to tell me how upset and offended they were about the story I’d written.
At the second signing, oddly enough, two different Wiccan’s came over to the signing table. They read the book’s back cover, and –seemingly excited—bought a copy.
To be clear, when writing fiction, everything still needs to remain primarily factual.
In The Molech Prophecy, the principal story revolves around Christians and a rogue Wiccan.
In my extensive research on Wicca, their beliefs and practices, I often came across their principal rule: Harm None.
The story I tell centers around a Wiccan coven leader who, in order to fulfill a prophecy, breaks the cardinal rule of his faith.
Is it “Hollywood” story-telling. Sure. Was it meant to be offensive? Of course not. Are the facts about Wicca that I incorporated into the story factual? You bet they are.
Unfortunately, when you write fiction or non-fiction, you will stumble across critics. Generally, I do not mind criticism—from someone who actually read my book. However, I do get offended as an author when my book receives negative criticism from someone who only spends forty seconds reading the back cover summary of the entire novel and from that, passes judgment.
What’s the best way to decide if The Molech Prophecy is offensive, or entertaining, is for you to read the book yourself – and then decide. And if you do—I would love to hear your thoughts, good, bad, or indifferent!
Here is a definition of Wicca, as described in an article found on Suite 101:
Wicca is a Pagan revival of European pre-Christian religions. Often called the religion of witches, the Wicca practice a religion of secrecy. They do not actively seek new members and they do not convert people to their religion.
Wicca is a loosely woven religion. Each Wiccan is allowed to choose what he or she believes. For example, some believe in reincarnation of the soul. Others believe that the soul travels to Summerland after the body dies. Still, others believe that we travel to Summerland after death and, when we are ready, reincarnate as birds, animals, and plants.
The origin of Wicca is hotly debated. Some believe that author Gerald Gardner invented Wicca. This is a half-truth. Wicca evolved from ancient Shamanism. It traveled through the ages, shaping and changing into classical Paganism. When Christianity gained power, Paganism was perverted into a fairytale of evil witches, imps, and satanic goats. Gerald Gardner, and others, took what was left of the Old Ways and rebuilt a new Pagan religion: Wicca. Wiccans practice a religion of duality. They believe in the God and Goddess or the Lord and Lady. Both God and Goddess are equal, and each presides over different aspects of nature and life. There is the Lord of the Hunt, Lady of the Woods, Sky Father, and Earth Mother.
The Wicca internalize their God and Goddess. They believe that their deities are within them and within all things in nature.
Wiccans are often accused of not having morals because they do not have a book that lists rules for behavior. Instead, Wiccans have one golden rule: do what you will, harm none. This simple rule governs all that Wiccans do.
Suite 101, Wicca Defined
http://paganismwicca.suite101.com/article.cfm/wicca_defined
Thomas Phillips
Author of The Molech Prophecy
In Stores Everywhere
Friday, August 8, 2008
International Christian Retail Show in Orlando, FL July 13-17, 2008
Without much time to recoup from the July 11th book signing at Barnes & Noble to kick off the release of The Molech Prophecy, I was Florida bound.
Whitaker House is an absolutely amazing publisher. You don’t often hear authors dedicate much time to talking about their publisher. The topic is usually about themselves, or their titles. And as much as I want to talk about me, and my book, none of it would be possible without a publisher. And when I was fortunate enough to find a home with Whitaker, this became that much more of a reality.
Please remember, I am a first time novelist. No one really knows Thomas Phillips. Few have heard of The Molech Prophecy.
In May, 2008, Whitaker asked me if I’d be interested in attending the International Christian Retail Show (ICRS) in Orlando, Florida in July. Of course, I told them I’d be honored.
What I did not expect was: 1. Flying first class, 2. Limo at the airport to take me to the hotel, 3. The publicist coordinating a TV, radio and a variety of media interviews, 4. Limo to take me back to the airport, 5. First class flight home …
Unreal. Need to say it again. Unreal.
I knew that fellow suspense novelist, Mark Mynheir was going to be at the conference. Over the last several months Mark has provided support, encouragement, endorsements, and friendship. So I emailed Mark telling him it would be such an honor to finally meet him in person.
Unfortunately, Mark was going to be leaving the conference the day I was arriving. It looked like we might have an hour or two where our attendance would overlap. Of course, my flight was a little delayed. The room at the hotel wasn’t ready …
Mark, a Floridian, called me on my cell. He told me he explained to his wife he might be a little late getting home. Why? He wanted to wait for me. We met in the lobby of the Orange County Convention Center. Working as a Homicide detective, Mark stood a few feet taller than me—which was fine, I looked up to him anyway. We were dressed very similarly, with matching gray-blue shirts and ties … which, as he proceeded to escort me around the conference showroom, was pointed out by each and every person he introduced me to.
Like a mentor, Mark spent more than an hour, leading me from booth to booth, giving me the rundown on how the conference worked, what to expect, what not to expect, and how not to let any of it get to me (good and bad). Mark introduced me to some of his author friends—and my jaw, surely stuck in a dropped-open position—consisting of: Robin Jones Gunn, Terri Blackstock, Dave Lampert, Angela Hunt … ah yeah, hence the “O” shaped mouth …
The days I spent in Orlando went quickly. I was at the conference from open to close. In bed by 10:00 … which made me laugh. Who goes to bed at 10:00? This guy right here!
One of the best parts of the convention was seeing the Whitaker House booth. The set-up was wonderful. And better still, I had the opportunity to meet the staff working behind the scenes to help sell my book.
Please, stop by my Myspace and Shoutlife sites to take a look at the photos from this convention.
Take care, and God bless,
Thomas
Whitaker House is an absolutely amazing publisher. You don’t often hear authors dedicate much time to talking about their publisher. The topic is usually about themselves, or their titles. And as much as I want to talk about me, and my book, none of it would be possible without a publisher. And when I was fortunate enough to find a home with Whitaker, this became that much more of a reality.
Please remember, I am a first time novelist. No one really knows Thomas Phillips. Few have heard of The Molech Prophecy.
In May, 2008, Whitaker asked me if I’d be interested in attending the International Christian Retail Show (ICRS) in Orlando, Florida in July. Of course, I told them I’d be honored.
What I did not expect was: 1. Flying first class, 2. Limo at the airport to take me to the hotel, 3. The publicist coordinating a TV, radio and a variety of media interviews, 4. Limo to take me back to the airport, 5. First class flight home …
Unreal. Need to say it again. Unreal.
I knew that fellow suspense novelist, Mark Mynheir was going to be at the conference. Over the last several months Mark has provided support, encouragement, endorsements, and friendship. So I emailed Mark telling him it would be such an honor to finally meet him in person.
Unfortunately, Mark was going to be leaving the conference the day I was arriving. It looked like we might have an hour or two where our attendance would overlap. Of course, my flight was a little delayed. The room at the hotel wasn’t ready …
Mark, a Floridian, called me on my cell. He told me he explained to his wife he might be a little late getting home. Why? He wanted to wait for me. We met in the lobby of the Orange County Convention Center. Working as a Homicide detective, Mark stood a few feet taller than me—which was fine, I looked up to him anyway. We were dressed very similarly, with matching gray-blue shirts and ties … which, as he proceeded to escort me around the conference showroom, was pointed out by each and every person he introduced me to.
Like a mentor, Mark spent more than an hour, leading me from booth to booth, giving me the rundown on how the conference worked, what to expect, what not to expect, and how not to let any of it get to me (good and bad). Mark introduced me to some of his author friends—and my jaw, surely stuck in a dropped-open position—consisting of: Robin Jones Gunn, Terri Blackstock, Dave Lampert, Angela Hunt … ah yeah, hence the “O” shaped mouth …
The days I spent in Orlando went quickly. I was at the conference from open to close. In bed by 10:00 … which made me laugh. Who goes to bed at 10:00? This guy right here!
One of the best parts of the convention was seeing the Whitaker House booth. The set-up was wonderful. And better still, I had the opportunity to meet the staff working behind the scenes to help sell my book.
Please, stop by my Myspace and Shoutlife sites to take a look at the photos from this convention.
Take care, and God bless,
Thomas
First Book Signing for The Molech Prophecy (7/11/08)
Looking back to when I first signed a contract for The Molech Prophecy with Whitaker House (September 2007), it felt like July 2008 would never get here.
Fortunately, editors and in-house publicists, kept me busy through the months.
The work that goes on behind the scenes prior to the release of a novel is, at times, a bit overwhelming. I enjoyed every minute of it, from proofing galleys, soliciting reviews and endorsement blurbs, to coordinating a wide variety of interviews.
It was mid-May when I set up my first book signing for The Molech Prophecy. It’s hard to believe that someone could have a “relationship” with a place, but I am most fond of the Barnes & Noble in The Mall at Greece Ridge Center, in Rochester, NY. There was no question in my mind that my first signing would be held in that store.
The store, or should I say Rebecca—the store’s events coordinator, was thrilled to hold the launch release for The Molech Prophecy.
Despite sending out invites, promoting the signing on sites like Myspace and Shoutlife, and begging friends and family to show, I worried the night before and the day of the signing. (Book signings in the summer are tougher than when held in fall, or winter months—why? Because people are busy. Vacationing. At the Beach. They want to be outside. Soon enough inclement and unpredictable weather will nearly paralyze the western New York area for six months …)
Although my signing started at 7:00 PM that Friday night, I arrived around 6:00. I’m a bit neurotic that way. (Like if I go to the movies and the coming attractions have already started—I have to resist demanding my money back and walking out …).
By 6:30, a few people had arrived. I signed a copy or two, and had a time to spend talking with people. And all the while, my stomach twisted into knots. Where was everyone else? Wasn’t anyone else going to show? I’d casually glance at my watch. 6:33. The event didn’t even start—officially—for another 27 minutes … but still …
At 6:45, my stomach twisted in the opposite direction. I saw people I recognized coming in through the street-entrance doors, stepping out of aisles, coming around corners. The quiet events area’s library-like silence shattered. A line formed.
My ten year old daughter was charged with the responsibility of working as my personal photographer. I sat at the table—which was ridiculous. As each person came up for a copy of the book, I stood, hugged and kissed them. Some people I knew (and some I did not—but it didn’t matter, lol).
I saw people from work, family, friends, Myspace friends, strangers … and two hours later, my hand numb, my gel pen out of ink, I sat back in the wood chair and took a moment to catch my breath.
The day had been more successful than I’d hoped. I felt so blessed that people came to share in my excitement about having a novel published. Blessed.
Please visit either my Myspace site, or Shoutlife site to see a slide show of photos taken by my daughter at the signing.
God bless,
Thomas
Fortunately, editors and in-house publicists, kept me busy through the months.
The work that goes on behind the scenes prior to the release of a novel is, at times, a bit overwhelming. I enjoyed every minute of it, from proofing galleys, soliciting reviews and endorsement blurbs, to coordinating a wide variety of interviews.
It was mid-May when I set up my first book signing for The Molech Prophecy. It’s hard to believe that someone could have a “relationship” with a place, but I am most fond of the Barnes & Noble in The Mall at Greece Ridge Center, in Rochester, NY. There was no question in my mind that my first signing would be held in that store.
The store, or should I say Rebecca—the store’s events coordinator, was thrilled to hold the launch release for The Molech Prophecy.
Despite sending out invites, promoting the signing on sites like Myspace and Shoutlife, and begging friends and family to show, I worried the night before and the day of the signing. (Book signings in the summer are tougher than when held in fall, or winter months—why? Because people are busy. Vacationing. At the Beach. They want to be outside. Soon enough inclement and unpredictable weather will nearly paralyze the western New York area for six months …)
Although my signing started at 7:00 PM that Friday night, I arrived around 6:00. I’m a bit neurotic that way. (Like if I go to the movies and the coming attractions have already started—I have to resist demanding my money back and walking out …).
By 6:30, a few people had arrived. I signed a copy or two, and had a time to spend talking with people. And all the while, my stomach twisted into knots. Where was everyone else? Wasn’t anyone else going to show? I’d casually glance at my watch. 6:33. The event didn’t even start—officially—for another 27 minutes … but still …
At 6:45, my stomach twisted in the opposite direction. I saw people I recognized coming in through the street-entrance doors, stepping out of aisles, coming around corners. The quiet events area’s library-like silence shattered. A line formed.
My ten year old daughter was charged with the responsibility of working as my personal photographer. I sat at the table—which was ridiculous. As each person came up for a copy of the book, I stood, hugged and kissed them. Some people I knew (and some I did not—but it didn’t matter, lol).
I saw people from work, family, friends, Myspace friends, strangers … and two hours later, my hand numb, my gel pen out of ink, I sat back in the wood chair and took a moment to catch my breath.
The day had been more successful than I’d hoped. I felt so blessed that people came to share in my excitement about having a novel published. Blessed.
Please visit either my Myspace site, or Shoutlife site to see a slide show of photos taken by my daughter at the signing.
God bless,
Thomas
Friday, June 27, 2008
FIRST Wild Card Blog Tour
It has been some time since I've blogged. I apologize. I have been busy behind the scenes, in an attempt to make the upcoming release of The Molech Prophecy as successful as possible.
Today, FIRST Wild Card Blog Tours launches blogs about The Molech Prophecy.
http://newtitlesfromwhitakerhouse.blogspot.com/
That's pretty exciting. This whole thing is possible because a teenager, Caleb, introduced himself to me on Shoutlife. (He is my #3 friend on the site). He said he writes regular book reviews. He wanted to review a copy of The Molech Prophecy. He also went on to contact my publisher. He told them he wanted to manage a blog tour for the book. And he did a fantastic job!
Tuesday, the book is going to be in stores across the country. That feels both amazing, and makes me a bit apprehensive. My dream is being realized. Tough concept to grasp. I'll say it again, see if it sinks in some. My dream is being realized.
Man, that's scary.
On-line purchased shipped to buyers the last few weeks. Which is cool.
I found the book at deepdiscounts.com for $7.19 -- with Free Shipping.
The book sells for just $9.99 anyway. But $7.19??? That's awesome.
Okay -- I don't want this to be rambling.
I have a ton of on-line interviews that should be popping up on the Internet the next few months. And am generating a host of book signings across Western New York and down into PA. Check my websites for dates/times/locations.
Have an awesome weekend all, and be sure to check out the FIRST Wild Card Blog Tour for The Molech Prophecy!
God bless,
Thomas
Today, FIRST Wild Card Blog Tours launches blogs about The Molech Prophecy.
http://newtitlesfromwhitakerhouse.blogspot.com/
That's pretty exciting. This whole thing is possible because a teenager, Caleb, introduced himself to me on Shoutlife. (He is my #3 friend on the site). He said he writes regular book reviews. He wanted to review a copy of The Molech Prophecy. He also went on to contact my publisher. He told them he wanted to manage a blog tour for the book. And he did a fantastic job!
Tuesday, the book is going to be in stores across the country. That feels both amazing, and makes me a bit apprehensive. My dream is being realized. Tough concept to grasp. I'll say it again, see if it sinks in some. My dream is being realized.
Man, that's scary.
On-line purchased shipped to buyers the last few weeks. Which is cool.
I found the book at deepdiscounts.com for $7.19 -- with Free Shipping.
The book sells for just $9.99 anyway. But $7.19??? That's awesome.
Okay -- I don't want this to be rambling.
I have a ton of on-line interviews that should be popping up on the Internet the next few months. And am generating a host of book signings across Western New York and down into PA. Check my websites for dates/times/locations.
Have an awesome weekend all, and be sure to check out the FIRST Wild Card Blog Tour for The Molech Prophecy!
God bless,
Thomas
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