This May, I published my first Kindle short story, New Hat 43. More importantly, it is my first story in the marketplace.
The story’s release feels like the first knot of a friendship bracelet. The loose threads before the knot were experiences, lessons, relationships, and stories that brought me to this point. The knot gathers them together. Now I look forward to seeing the pattern that emerges.
What strikes me most is how long the journey has been.
Aspiring authors aren’t told just how long the road can be. Who would tell them? Their friends don’t know, and if they did, they wouldn’t want to discourage them before their dream has a chance to take root and bloom.
The first story I ever started writing was sometime in high school. The inspiration came from a scene in Willow, when Madmartigan discovers a full suit of armor. I carried that story through high school, college, and seminary. More of it existed in my imagination than on paper. I picked it up from time to time, wrote a little, edited a bit more, and then set it aside for long periods of time.
Years later, life became very busy. I managed a Christian bookstore, served as pastor of a small rural church, started raising a family, and spent long hours commuting. Yet that season taught me something important: discipline. With so many competing demands, I learned to be intentional with both my time and my writing.
I prepared a sermon each week.
Sermon preparation is, in part, creative writing. Every week I took a biblical text, wrestled with its meaning, looked for the story, and found a way to communicate it clearly and memorably. Unknowingly, that time trained me as a storyteller.
When my time as pastor came to an end, I discovered I needed another creative outlet. I could return to my unfinished story or begin another story waiting patiently backstage, as stories often do.
I called the new story to step forward.
This time, I committed myself to finishing the manuscript and not endlessly revising the opening chapters. My goal was simple: complete the manuscript.
And I did.
Some of my fondest memories during that time involved sitting on the floor in my girls’ room, handwriting the story while simultaneously rubbing the foot of my three-year-old daughter as she fell asleep. That daughter is almost nineteen. How quickly time passes.
After completion came transcription, followed by several rounds of edits, beta readings, and a round of professional editing. I finally sent it to agents and editors. While there was encouragement, there were no offers. One agent liked the premise but felt the craft still needed work.
So, I kept learning.
I read books on writing craft, listened to podcasts, attended conferences, and received critiques from other writers. Slowly, I learned. Stories may begin with a spark from the imagination, but it is craft that carries them to completion—at least in a form that others will want to read.
This adventure also came with a side quest. I needed to lay siege to Castle Platform (or rather build it). Stories need readers. Readers need a way to find you, so I built my website and this newsletter.
New Hat 43 isn’t the first story I’ve written.
It isn’t the one I’ve spent the most time on.
But it is the first story I’ve carried all the way from idea to publication.
I’m grateful for the many people who helped me reach this point: family members, friends, critique partners, mentors, editors, conference faculty, and readers who generously gave their time and insights.
I’m especially thankful to my wife, Karen, who has read more of my writing than anyone, often reading the same piece multiple times.
I’m also thankful for the beta readers who helped shape New Hat 43, including Teddi Deppner and screenwriter David Hyde, who saw enough potential in the story to adapt it into a short film. Principal photography has already wrapped, and the project is now in post-production. I’m grateful as well to Lindsay Franklin, whose brief mentorship helped strengthen the story before publication.
Most of all, I’m grateful to Jesus Christ, who is not only the author and finisher of my faith but also the source of imagination itself. The ability to create stories from nothing is just short of miraculous. The very act of writing is a reflection of the Creator who spoke the universe into existence.
Jennifer Hammond gave me my first and only friendship bracelet. This would have been about the fifth grade, so the mid-1980s, the height of their popularity. The girls were making them as fast as they could and looking for any unadorned wrist to put them on. I got to choose my colors: gray and green. I think I still have it among my childhood relics. Bless my mom, she kept everything.
Friendship bracelets are meant to be shared, as are stories.
My friend, I am happy to share with you New Hat 43.