In my youth, I wrote, and it was terrific. I had found my passion, and my thoughts soared. Decades later, books were self-published. I became the Queen of my Kingdom! Yet, there came a time when the intensity lowered, and thoughts slowed. Doctor’s diagnosis, pills followed, and then the worst—a couple of minor strokes. When one cannot concentrate, one cannot conduct research, study, or write.

Finally, the not-so-surprising day arrived: Operation or face the Grim Reaper. Fear overcame, and common sense took over. I underwent the operation, and my health returned with each step taken. Health’s return leads to choice. Continue writing by doing mountains of research, tons of “I can write this because I am quoting so-and-so,” and—aside from an original thought or two—end up feeling that the finished work is yet another copy of other people’s books. Or, after prayers of asking, I can finally listen to the Divine answer of, “What is Your will?”

WARNING: Do not pray for His answer unless you are willing to step out of your comfort zone. A barrage of thoughts, inspiration, insights, and even questions will follow. Anticipation will build. And you will meet yourself with the question: Am I brave enough to follow the thread given?

For me, the man everyone loves to hate kept popping into my head as it had since I first read the New Testament, but now it returned with much greater intensity. The biggest problem is that I have never hated Judas Iscariot, regardless of what I read or heard in sermons. Instead, I felt sorry for the man, for there was not enough evidence in the biblical verses to sentence Judas to eternal damnation. The next step I need to take is to discover what kind of living experiences he had in Palestine during the 10s to 30s CE.

As a starting point, I rediscovered an old treasure when opening a forgotten box: the bare bones of writing I was not brave enough to develop those decades ago. Redoing those notes, combined with tons of new information, and before long, there were years of research pouring into 3-ring binders, resulting in reams of typed notes. Then the excitement of building the story. Why can’t I type fast enough to keep up with the flying thoughts? Over one thousand glorious pages later, Judas walks out of the manuscript, hands on his hips. He wants to know when I am going to tell his story.

Eight years ago, I gave Judas my answer, but little did I know I would step into the strangest world, where people talked in a language I did not understand. I had to deal with the strangest terms: linking, platform, e-readers, paid reviewers, and influencers. I was so lost. Well, when lost, ask questions. Swallow your pride and become a child again, asking, “Why?” “How?” “Explain”.

My murky cloud of the Unknown has somewhat cleared. Now, just a fog that comes and goes. Know-how does conquer. My hard-learning advice to all writers of serious work: Look for knowledgeable people who will lend a helping hand in this learning process. Be sure to thank them profusely for their correct answers, as they have just saved you hours of searching. Never return to those who gave you incorrect information because they are not working in your best interest, but their own, as writers tend to work from their agenda. Even me. I am devoting a decade to convincing Christians that we cannot have a Creator of Love and Forgiveness and then hate and condemn a man on someone else’s say-so. This contradiction is just too great and cannot be what our loving, forgiving God wants from us.