the parable of the talents

So Bob came home from church with a story, one that I know but haven't thought about in a while.  The parable of the talents is not exactly your typical the meek shall inherit the earth sort of tale.  Jesus is sitting on the Mount of Olives and the disciples ask him a question.  Give that man an inch, and he takes a mile; Jesus spends all of Matthew 24 and 25 discussing various issues, including a master, three servants, and a surprise.

One servant receives five talents, one gets two and one has one.  Now this wasn't pocket change; according to the New International Version (my favorite), a talent was a cool grand, pretty nice money.  The first guy gained five more, was happily thanked by his master.  The second chap earned another two, pleasing his master as well.  The third guy...

In the sermon, the pastor compared these servants to churches; Mr. Five Talent was a mega-church, Mr. Two-Talent was in the suburbs.  The guy with one talent was a small inner-city church, like the one Bob attends, and that guy hid his talent in a field.  The master wasn't thrilled, berating that servant for wasting his talent, even going so far as noting that talent would have been better off in a banker's hands!

Now on first glance, shouldn't Christ have offered some wicked are the rich, blessed are the poor homily?  Instead, Bob's pastor reminded his flock that all churches are meant to grow.  A small parish with a shrinking population shouldn't bury its talent.  Even that one lowly talent has purpose.

Like writers, Bob then grinned, a talent that shouldn't be hidden under the bed, tucked in a hard drive, or locked within my heart.  I smiled at him.  He's absolutely right.  One of the reasons I went indie was realizing my time matters, my novels matter; I wouldn't be writing them if I didn't believe there was a reason.  I might not be a five-talent writer, but two, at least two, maybe three, three and a half.  Wherever I land, I'm publishing these manuscripts because I have a point.

Lately life has felt heavy, NaNo has been cumbersome.  Revising has been more of Rigorous Morning Overhauls than Gentle Morning Edits.  But I have a task, and will be given the necessary energy and talent (heh heh) to get that job accomplished.  If nothing else, I know that, sometimes all that keeps me typing.  Authors need that reminder, that for all our sometimes insular ways, we have a purpose.  Various genres, styles, and idioms, but we matter.  We really do.  Whether you're writing, editing, querying, self-pubbing, or just pondering that novel inside, don't let niggling doubts erase that dream.  Maybe it seems daunting, impossible; the words won't move.  The prose reads as if a goiter wrote it.  Agents seem on permanent vacation or are stuck on NO.  Going indie feels like living alone on a deserted island.  NaNo is nearly half-over and the word count is sitting at less than five talents; no matter the issue, you have a purpose, you have a point.  You wouldn't be writing if you didn't.

Oh, a few days ago I made an alteration, adding a new tab along the top of the blog: Why My Ebooks Are Free.  More about this later in the week...