Monday, December 20, 2010

Did God Need A Literary Agent When He Published The Bible?

I know that the bible was published after God became known to us, but the thoughts are supposed to be His, aren’t they? How did the good book get published?

My own thinking on the matter is that God didn’t really need an agent to get His good book published. All He had to do was to rely on word of mouth and His own words of caring and kindness. I don’t mean to be lacking in humility, but I hope the same can be said of me one day—I mean about the word of mouth part.

It is difficult, however, to believe in that which is beyond our powers of reason to see or understand. But that is why God is God I think. And that is why believing in Him requires an element of faith.

If we humans were indeed fashioned in his image, then we should find the faith to believe in ourselves as well. Sometimes that proves difficult.

I am an unknown writer who has to rely on word of mouth to make my words known. Not that I am comparing myself to God, but I too find myself little understood and almost invisible.

I need recognition. Someone that will recognize as one agent said, “that I am a gifted writer who has an unbelievable imagination. Sometimes I think I am surreal like some of the characters in my seven novels.

So if there is an Angel up there that would like to guide me to a horde of new readers, I will be eternally grateful since I’m self publishing.

I would ask you to read Johnny Oops to start with—a teenage genius who turns into a Sex Maniac, Charlatan, Prophet, or Guru when he grows up depending on your point of view. Only 99 cents in Kindle and $14.95 in print on Amazon.com. Did you know you can download Kindle to your computer?

Perhaps he or she could take a look at the others when they are published like Voyeur about a suitcase bomb that is detonated in the middle New York City for a dose of reality.

Maybe The Magic Pill, which features a young couple who invent a faith-based magic pill that cures cancer, would provide comic relief to many as a distraction from the troubles of our time.

Futures/Past wouldn’t do that, it has a really catastrophic black ending, but Husband Hunting might lighten up every ones mood. I think it is a new genre that might be called husband light.

Last and possibly not least might be the Wasn’t Man, which is a mystery about insider trading, or was it?

Oh, I almost forgot my most recent novel – Sequin Boy and Cindy. It’s a love story about a young American Indian who sheds his facial ornamentation for the love of his life.

Just a final thought, these novels are definitely not autobiographical or else I have a seriously split personality.

Perhaps that is why I am searching for God and some more readers, at the same time.
*****

Friday, December 10, 2010

The Little Christmas Tree That Could

Johnny Jr. was pursuing a quest to find his faith in God. He bought a tiny little Christmas tree to celebrate the holidays. It was all that he could afford at the time.
His wife and little children were very disappointed that the tree was so small. They didn't say anything, but Johnny Jr. knew it, and was upset that they were not happy. He wished and prayed that the tree was larger and more magnificent.

The night before Christmas when he went to put his few meager presents under the tree, he was startled to notice that the Christmas tree had grown much larger. It was taller by more than three feet and wider and its branches seemed to sparkle. The few tiny ornaments and lights that Johnny Jr. and his wife had managed to put up also appeared to have multiplied, and now their glow lit up the whole room.

Johnny Jr. called his wife and little children over to witness this miracle of the little Christmas tree that could grow. He had been praying that things would get better for him and his family, but he never dreamed that his prayers would be answered in this manner.

Johnny and his family were convinced that it was their faith in God that gave them the miracle of the little tree that could grow.

Do you have something happening in your life that can help make your faith grow stronger? Has something happened to you that you feel is a miracle at this wonderful time of the year? Think about it. Sometimes it’s the little acts of faith in our lives that can help make miracles happen. Sometimes our prayers do get answered if we truly believe.

I believe that each of us has a special thought in our mind’s eye that could grow into a miracle if you just have enough faith that it could. Miracles do happen. I pray that at this marvelous time of the year that the miracle of your dreams coming true for you. I think it could. I think it could. I think it could

If you have something that has happened to you that you feel is a miracle at this wonderful time of year, please share with us in the comment section.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Monday, November 08, 2010

How To Text Your Way To A Miracle

Are your fingers to short or to slow to text a prayer to God? Don’t worry about it. This will fast become a new age way to express your faith in our common Lord and see your dreams come true. If you can take the time to painstakingly tap out message after message to your friends, how about letting God know that you love him and want him to be a part of your life.

You don’t have to shout it out. You don’t have to mention it at the dinner table or even in church. God knows you’re busy. How about a simple little text to let Him know that you have faith in Him and need his help?

Don’t worry about your spelling or taking linguistic short cuts, God knows what is on your mind. He just wants to hear your prayer to him personally.

Don’t worry about the length of your text or what you are going to say. Let your prayer come from your heart. God will understand. He is always :-) - smiling at you.

Are you ready for a miracle? Does that sound 2G2BT – Too good to be true?

Remember we are all in this together. Our motto is 14AA41 – One for all and all for one.

The best way to get a miracle is to ask God for one. What do you want? What kind of miracle are you hoping for? Maybe what you want is for that special person to text you saying 459 – I love you?

If you are hoping for the miracle of someone’s love why don’t we ask God for His Help?

We could start off, Dear God 143 – I love you. Can you help me get Cindy to say 1432 – I love you too. That’s the kind of miracle I’ve been hoping for.

... You can 10Q, 10Q – Thank you, thank you. My prayers have been answered. It’s a miracle.

It’s almost 2G2BT – To good to be true.

I will believe in you 4ever – Forever.

... Yes I know God knows how to text using shorthand, It’s you I’m worried about. I hope you understand this is not going to be just another ADIP – Another day in paradise.

Enjoy your miracle. I hope you know you are AIMP – Always in my prayers. You loved one’s too, I hope.

Hi, this is Arthur Levine, to find out more about my novel Johnny Oops and faith & miracles; please visit http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Interview

Hi everyone, please check out the interview about me and my novels, The Magic of Faith and Johnny Oops by Soooz of Goodreads.com

Regards,

Arthur

http://sooozsaysstuff.blogspot.com/

Thursday, September 09, 2010

GRANDMA’S SECRET POTION OF FAITH

Grandma Jenny slipped shoveling snow off the front steps of our home in the midst of a fearsome snow storm at the age of ninety-six and broke her hip. She was a feisty little woman who weighed only ninety-five pounds and stood four feet-nine inches tall. The shovel was bigger than Grandma. You might wonder why she was out shoveling snow early in the morning at her advanced age, but it was part of her stubborn and cantankerous nature. And it was a part of her tradition. She didn’t want my father going to work and getting his feet wet in the snow. It was a matter of respect for the man of the house. It was her way.

Grandma was from the old country – Russia to be specific. She came to the United States as a girl of fourteen traveling for fifteen days on a tramp steamer and surviving on bread and water. She lost her provisions, her money, and her clothes on the trip over to thieves that hounded na├»ve, unsuspecting young girls such as her as a normal part of refugee voyages in those days. Most people though it was the work of greedy members of the crew. She arrived in this country penniless and literally with only the clothes on her back. But nothing could stop Grandma from making a new life in the land of her dreams, or bringing with her the rituals and traditions that were an innate part of her heritage, her faith, and of her very being.

Until she slipped and broke her hip, Grandma Jenny had always been healthy. None of us in the family could remember her having a cold. She attributed her good health to a secret potion of Elderberry Brandy that she distilled in the attic of our Georgian Colonial House. I have no idea where she got the Elderberries from or how she prepared the brew. We were never allowed up to her special place in the attic to see what she was doing. Everything that Grandma did was a secret.

Grandma had a shot of the special potion when she woke up in the morning and when she went to bed at night, that much she told us. To the best of my knowledge it was the only medicine she ever took. On rare occasions such as holidays and birthdays, we were all invited to join her for a sip of her Elderberry Brandy. I was allowed to participate from the time I was a teenager. Boy did that stuff pack a wallop. It is no wonder that Grandma was never sick. The brandy must have killed the germs. My dad didn’t really like it. He was a scotch man. My mother struggled to swallow it. She didn’t drink. We all participated in the Ritual. No one in the family was about to insult Grandma Jenny. She was too tough a cookie to be trifled with.

On one of the rare occasions when Grandma Jenny bothered to talk to me, communication was a problem since she spoke only Russian; I asked her what was so special about the secret potion? She sort of half smiled at me indicating that when I was more mature I would understand, pointing at my head. Grandma was great at the universal language of hand signals. I do understand a little Russian, but I don’t speak the language. Fortunately for me Grandma did understand English except when she chose to pretend that she didn’t. Even the dog understood Russian because Grandma fed him and he didn’t speak at all. When she called him to come and get it in Russian, he came running. No one disobeyed Grandma. The dog was a huge Boxer named Slugger. It was amazing to see him cower in front of my Grandmother, and wait for her command allowing him to eat. He sure didn’t act like that with my father or me. He once jumped up on my Dad and pushed him so hard that he fell down and dislocated his shoulder. Slugger wouldn’t dare jump up on my Grandma. The dog knew better.

After Grandma passed away, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was so special about her secret potion and how to make it. Grandma wasn’t big on measurements or recipes. She insisted that you just add a little bit of this and a little bit of that. This was the way she talked when someone wanted to know how to make her yeast coffee cake or her saffron laced ginger-carrot candy. Unfortunately the secrets died with her.

I think I finally have the answer when it comes to the secret potion. It wasn’t the herbs that she added. It wasn’t how high the alcohol content was. It was the love with which she made it and dispensed it to the whole family. It represented to her a melding of old traditions and new rituals. It symbolized her faith in God, and the respect she had for our family and our Country. It was a way for her to celebrate her freedom. It was her way of communicating to us in a language of kindness and caring that we could all understand.

Sometimes when I sip a little brandy late at night to help calm me from the stress of the day and the threat of terrorism, I wonder, couldn’t we all use a little of Grandma’s secret potion to help us through these troubled times? The commercial stuff doesn’t seem to be doing the trick anymore. It lacks the tradition of caring, kindness, and love necessary to make it a special brew. It lacks that personal faith-filled touch of Grandma Jenny. It doesn’t have her tenacious character or her will to survive. It lacks respect.

There are some things that you can’t put in a bottle, smack a label on, and expect to work miracles. Sometimes you have to find the right ingredients in your own heart. Sometimes you have to distill them yourself. Sometimes the secret potion of faith is within you.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Strange Ways

God works in mysterious ways. In the novel Johnny Oops, Johnny tries to get people to touch each other in their private essentials as a way to help them get in touch with their inner souls. He calls his religion Dialectic Spiritualism.

He can't decide if he is a Prophet, A Charlatan, or a Sex Maniac.