Some of Loyola’s staff had asked me to come to the school and speak to a group of their freshman and sophomores. You see, throughout my high school career, I had a genuine dislike of all things related to reading and writing. To me, it was boring, difficult, didn’t really matter in the long run, and took up way too much time. Plus, there were easily a dozen other things I would rather do, like hang out with my friends, strum the guitar, watch t.v., play video games, or kick around a soccer ball.

I had the same general attitude throughout college, with the main difference being that, with so much freedom, the list of other things to do besides read and write was much longer in Champaign than it had been at Loyola. As my graduation from the University of Illinois got closer, I found myself in a precarious position. I would be graduating with a double major in Speech Communication and Philosophy. Perfect for a profession in…

I did what I figured any other college senior in my situation would do: I introduced myself to my college counselor and I asked her what I might do upon graduating with such an illustrious double major. I remember her saying, “I’ve only had one student of mine graduate with that same double major. She went to law school.” I recall my counselor’s tone carried a slight degree of skepticism in her response. She must have been looking at my GPA at the time.

Alas, given that I had nothing else going for me, law school was suddenly and undoubtedly the solution. True, I had never in my life desired to be a lawyer. True, it would put me in all kinds of financial debt. True, I would be competing against other men and women who excelled at my weakest attribute. But I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and law school, at the very least, would keep my parents off my back. Plus, it would give me another three years of student life. The longer I could avoid the working world, the better.

Somehow (I’m still not sure how), in the fall of 1998, my application to the Chicago-Kent College of Law was accepted. It was shortly after beginning law school that I had my first dream of Samuel (https://thegiftofsamuel.com/the-glowing-man/). Thus began my dream journal that would slowly transform over the next twenty years into my first novel The Gift of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

During those twenty years, I did what I had to do to make ends meet. I worked for, and with, some great attorneys and successfully assimilated into my professional life. Still, my heart longed for something more. I was grateful to be gainfully employed, but something inside of me was empty, and the practice of law was not filling the void.

It was when I self-published my book that I anticipated the longing inside of me would finally be satisfied. I wanted others to be inspired by the message in the story, which was ultimately about choosing light over dark and holding onto hope in the face of despair. In my rational mind, if I could get just one reader to believe that light will always triumph over darkness, then I would have done my job, and that emptiness inside me would dissipate.

What I didn’t expect was one of the literacy specialists at Loyola Academy asking me to come into the school to share my journey with the students. I was someone that had hated reading and writing as a student, yet, I eventually became an attorney and author. I jumped at the chance to meet with the kids. I’d be one step closer to sharing the message of hope contained in the story, if I could get some of these young adults interested in my book.

My time with the students was magnificent but paled in comparison to what I found inside the card from them after our visit. Messages like “thank you for your inspiring words,” “thank you for sharing your life’s journey,” and “thank you for showing me how your life can change with a positive mindset” filled the card. As I read through the thank yous, it suddenly dawned on me: these were kids who were going to read my book, but, up to that point, had only read a tiny portion of it. They were finding hope in my own life’s story, not in the fictional story of Joshua Barratt as he trudged through Grey Dawn.

Then I came to the line that really got me – “thank you for showing us that one’s greatest weakness can grow to be their greatest strength.” My dream of making a difference in young adults’ lives was coming true, not from the message contained in my book, but in the fact that I pushed myself to write and publish the book. The longing inside me was finally being satisfied, in the most unexpected way. That’s when I put the card down and laughed, with the joy of realizing a dream, and cried, with thankfulness and humility, for the gift that these students gave me.

The post The Laugh Cry appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

“Now that the first draft is wrapping up, do you have all your editors ready for revisions?” Neil asked me.

“Editors? Revisions? No, not really. I mean, I was going to skim over it one time just to make sure I got all the typos.”

I could tell from the look on Neil’s face that my answer was far from the correct one, so I started fishing a little.

“Do you think, maybe, you might know an editor who would read The Gift of Samuel? Is that something you would do? How many editors do I need anyway?”

As always, Neil stayed cool and assisted me through my naïveté.

“I’ll edit your first draft, no problem; it would be my honor. Then you’re going to need fresh sets of eyes for further edits, at least ten of them, but the more, the better.”

You can imagine my shock when I realized I was going from one skim revision looking for typos to at least ten outside editors. I tried not to think about the anxiety of ten outside editors and concentrated on finishing up the first draft so Neil could be my first editor. On the very night before sending Neil a hardcopy draft, I had another vivid dream of Samuel that altered the story.

In my dream, I was walking with Samuel in this gargantuan warehouse, with all kinds of props and structures scattered around inside it. The warehouse was half indoor, half outdoor, like an open hanger. I’ve never been to a movie set before, but from my limited understanding, this was definitely a movie set. Without any words being exchanged, I suddenly knew that Samuel and I were scouting a location for The Gift of Samuel streaming series.
We walked up to the prop home belonging to Lorrick and Miriam on Elders Row and I could see the three red circles next to the front door.

“What’s up with the red circles?” I asked Samuel

“Joshua is going to need more reason to leave Caulfield. What you have so far isn’t enough. You need to incorporate this into the story.”

As I stood there looking at the house prop and the three red circles, in my mind’s eye it was explained to me how the law the red circles would be added to the story. It was as if the information was downloaded into my conscious and I was instantly aware of this major part of the story that needed to be included in the first draft.

As soon as I woke up, the first thing I did was text Neil, letting him know that the draft hard copy would not be coming in the mail that day as I needed to add something from a dream that I had that night.

Once I incorporated the Law of the Red Circles into the story, I sealed the package containing the first draft and sent it to my friend. He was going to be the first person outside of myself to read The Gift of Samuel. I felt so scared, so vulnerable, sending the story to Neil, but I knew he wouldn’t let me down. I knew Neil would go the extra mile to pull out the good stuff from the otherwise terrible first draft and encourage me to keep working at it. More than that, I knew the story was complete, now that the Law that Red Circles was part of it.

The post The Law of the Red Circles appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

We sat down in our circle and got right into it. Once again, the overwhelming response from all the book club members was universal – I loved this book, when’s the next one coming out?

“As soon as I can sell 3,000 units,” I answered with a straight face. “If I can do that, and if people really love my book as much as they say, then I should be able to generate enough noise to get an agent, which would then allow me a legitimate shot of realizing my dream and selling The Gift of Samuel trilogy to a big publisher.”

I gave them all the statistics. Told them that only 1 in 10,000 self-published authors make enough to earn a living, and how only 1 in 100,000 become a household name. Seemingly impossible odds. Yet, the resolve in these women’s faces was inspiring. Instead of consoling me about my doomed fate, they were determined to help me sell 3,000 units; The Gift of Samuel was going to beat the odds if these ladies had anything to say about it.

“You know what, Pauly?” one of the members, Nikki, said to me. “I loved this book so much I’m making Jay (her husband) read it, and I’m making him send it to one of his good friends, John Doe.” Obviously, the good friend’s name isn’t John Doe, but for purposes of this blog, we’ll call him John Doe.

“That’s fantastic! Thank you, Nikki! Who is John Doe?” I asked.

“He was Jay’s college roommate,” Nikki explained. “Today, they are still good friends. John’s super cool and down to earth. John is the literary agent for Jane Doe!”

This is the point where all my senses went numb. Obviously, once again, the author’s name really wasn’t Jane Doe. This author’s name was a household name as this author wrote a major young adult trilogy that became very successful motion pictures. Not only that, but I’ve had several people tell me that The Gift of Samuel reminded them of this specific YA trilogy.

“If Jay asks John to read it, he’ll read it.” Nikki said, without an iota of hesitation.

I instantly thought of the movie Roadrunner, the biography of the late Anthony Bourdain. I had no idea his New York Times bestseller Kitchen Confidential was spawned from an email that he had sent to a friend, detailing Bourdain’s everyday life. Bourdain’s friend happened to be married to a publisher, and when the friend read Bourdain’s email to his wife, she knew Bourdain was a natural author, and the rest is history.

What are the odds that a member of the Book Babes is married to a close friend of a famous literary agent? 1 in 10,000? 1 in 100,000? 1 in 1,000,000? On top of that, what are the odds that this member of the Book Babes liked my book so much that she would do what she did?

When I self-published this book 15 months ago, I told myself that if I could change the life of one person for the better, then I would have achieved my goal. Then, that happened (See https://thegiftofsamuel.com/the-client/) and, as a result, my goal changed. If I could change one person’s life for the better, then I want to change multiple lives for the better.

There’s no timetable, and I have no idea when John is going to read my book. But I know he’s going to read it. And if this book is as good as everyone says, then I have to believe that he’ll see the potential for The Gift of Samuel. Even if he can’t pick me up, himself, he’ll know someone in the industry who can, and I’m one step closer to my next goal.

Once the Book Babes and I had devised our master plan, we realized it was time to hit the road as everybody had work the next day. That’s when the ladies suggested that I join their book club and become Mr. Book Babe.

“I don’t think so,” Katie dissented. “I think Paul should concentrate on writing books two and three of The Gift of Samuel!” A unanimous cheer came from the rest of the group.

Since the Book Babes gathering, it’s been difficult for me to contain my excitement. As I work on getting books two and three from my head onto paper, I want to share a link where you can see the outline to the Prologue and Chapter One of Book Two. Because the Book Babes had so many questions about Book Two, I read them this small portion, culminating in a chorus of “ohs” and “ahs.” I hope you share in our anticipation!

The post Mr. Book Babe? appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

Through one of my closest friends, The Gift of Samuel: Grey Dawn made it into the hands of Mrs. Vancil, the 8th grade teacher at Volta. Mrs. Vancil liked the book so much that she asked if any of her students would like to read it on a voluntary basis. Many of the students were curious and ended up reading the book. I was fortunate enough to spend some time with them after they read it.

I got to the school having no idea what to expect. That said, I was extremely excited and nervous to hear what the kids had to say. This was the first group of young adults, near the age of the protagonist in the story, to read the book. I hoped they identified with Joshua, his emotions, and how he approached various issues before him in the story. This meeting was a big deal. If these young adults did not connect with Joshua, then I would have missed the mark. On the other hand, if they liked the book, then I would have achieved what I set out to do.

As I waited in line with the head of security to print out my visitor badge, I couldn’t help but feel the energy of the kids scampering around me. The building was full of energy; there were kids everywhere. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a group of four kids kind of huddled together, looking at me. Once I received my visitor pass, I turned to the group, who were suddenly walking towards me. I noticed my book in their hands.

“You’re the author of this book, right?” one of the kids asked.

“Yep, that’s me.” I said.

“We all love this book, and we can’t wait for the next one!”

“Awesome! Thanks guys! See you in a little bit for our group discussion?”

“We’ll be there!” They said as they ran off, up the stairs.

A sense of relief washed over me. I didn’t know the number of students meeting with me that morning, but I knew at least four of them liked the book.

The group discussion with the kids was incredible. They were curious, excited, shy, and innocent. But above all that, they were intuitive, asking me deep and engaging questions. As I answered their questions and we embarked on discussing various topics, I was filled with a joy that’s hard to describe. These 14-year-old students have so much life in front of them. It made me think of what I was like at that age, getting ready to graduate 8th grade. I was terrified. Looking back, I wish I understood the importance of being excited about the opportunity that was ahead of me as I entered high school.

Suddenly, I knew the ultimate message I wanted to convey. I wanted these kids to embrace their lives ahead of them. I wanted them to face all of their fears and challenges with open minds and open hearts, trusting that all will work out exactly as it’s supposed to, if they just have faith. It’s taken me nearly forty-eight years to realize that fear isn’t something to dread or avoid. Fear is an opportunity to grow, to realize your potential. You just have to find the courage to face your fears. It took me writing and publishing this book to come to this realization. I wanted to be an inspiration not only for them but for all young adults who are uncertain about the future.

Near the end of our meeting, one of the kids asked me what the best part was of writing this book. Was it holding the first draft in my hands? Was it holding the finished product in my hands? Was it the first five-star review of my book?

Francisco, Krishna, Collin, Keziah, Ananya, Lesly and Brissia – I meant every word I said in our meeting and in my answer to that last question — meeting you and spending our time together, talking about life, dreams, overcoming fear, believing that love conquers all, and that no one person has more worth than another, that was, and is, the best part of writing this book. Seeing the looks in your eyes, sharing the excitement of talking about the opportunities in front of you, and having a mindset that nothing is insurmountable, that elation I felt far surpasses any other joy associated with publishing this book. You are our future and I’m honored and humbled that you read my book, enjoyed the story, and received the messages contained therein.

I sincerely thank each and every one of you for giving me that joy. Thank you, Sean and Mrs. Vancil, for coordinating such a meaningful event. I look forward to seeing all of you again down the road and in that golden opportunity we call the future.

The post Visit to Volta Elementary appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

As I gazed, I understand that Samuel was one of the moons. He was the largest moon of the group in the sky. And his importance could not be understated. He, as that moon, was a symbol of unconditional love, forgiveness, kindness, joy and generosity. He was a noble and strong leader and I looked to him for inspiration and support.

Next to him, also in the sky, I could see a timeline of his life, from his birth to his death. In the timeline, there were various events that took place. As I looked over these events, I noticed that his death would come at a time much too soon for his age. He was going to die in his mid to late 20s and he would not live to see or experience the gift of growing old and living a long life.

My heart sunk, and I was desperate to save him. I reasoned that if I was able to see the timeline of his life, with various junctures and events that would lead, one after the other, to his eventual death, perhaps I could change some of those events. Perhaps I could make it so that I would be able to save him and avoid his untimely passing.

Accordingly, I got work. Simply with the with the power of thought, I was able to maneuver events in his life, trying to find the right combination so that Samuel’s death at such a young age would be avoided. I rearranged the outline in the sky and would re-work it out, over and over. Each time, no matter what I did, Samuel would die at that same age and point. I don’t know how many times I did this, but it felt like hundreds, if not thousands. Despite my efforts and my burning desire to save him, his young and untimely death was inevitable.

I eventually gave up, accepting that he was going to die at that point, but still carrying a great amount of sadness, wishing that he would live longer.

Here, I would be remiss to not mention the story of Macbeth. When I awoke from the dream, I instantly thought of this work by Shakespeare. I thought of the prophecy from the witches of Macbeth’s death and the various events that would lead up to his death, and how he was sure they could not happen. Or, how we would do whatever he could to make sure that they wouldn’t happen. And yet, they happened. There was nothing anyone could have done to avoid what was meant to be.

The post Trying to Save Samuel. appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

When my recurring dreams of Samuel transformed into a story, I knew in my head and my heart that it was a trilogy. However, with the first book’s release, I was purposefully quiet about this fact. Logic dictated that the chances of the first novel being a success were exceptionally slim. For starters, I was the least likely person to write a good book. They say that good writers are voracious readers, and I was not well read. In fact, I spent most of my life avoiding books whenever possible, as I struggled with all things related to words, reading, writing, and spelling. Numbers made sense to me, and I excelled in math. Two plus two always equaled four, while what’s considered “reasonable” to one could mean something completely different to another.

Given the high probably of book one’s failure, I saw no need to further embarrass myself by announcing that the novel was the first of three. The possibility of publishing one book that no one enjoyed carried enough risk of humiliation; there was no need to add potential insult to injury by publicizing that two more equally lame products were in the works.

Then I had my first review from a beta reader, a cousin of mine, who I knew would give it to me straight. “I loved it,” she emphatically told me. “I couldn’t put it down and didn’t want it to end. There’s got to be a second book, right? I need to know what happens!” From there, the reception from future readers and reviewers echoed the same sentiments. The first book didn’t suck. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was a good book and readers wanted the rest of the story!

With my initial fear abated, it was time to update the book’s website and back cover, let it be publicly known that The Gift of Samuel: Grey Dawn was the first of three books. In doing so, I contemplated using this as the opportunity to also tell everyone why I am writing the trilogy and my ultimate goal with this endeavor. That’s when the logical, never satisfied critic, deep inside me, whispered in my ear, reminding me of the magnitude of embarrassment that awaited me in taking such action.

Like it or not, we are a culture obsessed with odds. I get it. Measuring probability is rational. It makes sense. It gives us a sense of security, of knowing the unknowable. If Joe Baseball Player has a .310 batting average against right-handed pitchers over his ten-year carrier versus a .210 batting average against lefties, odds are ten percent greater he’ll get a hit facing a righty. 12 out of every 100 drivers hit a deer every year, so you might want to consider comprehensive car insurance, not just liability insurance. Two plus two always equals four.

This brings me to the second reason I was sure I would fail. The odds are 1 in 10,000, a 0.01% chance, that I will make enough money with The Gift of Samuel to make ends meet without having to subsidize my income with another job. The odds are 1 in 100,000, a 0.00001% chance, that The Gift of Samuel will someday be a household name. Why even try with these kinds of odds? It would make much more sense to let the dream go, save myself the time, money, energy, and frustration of completing the trilogy and focus my attention on my day job. Plus, it’s safer not putting myself out there for the ridicule and embarrassment of failing and becoming another casualty of the odds. But I cannot play it safe.

I wrote The Gift of Samuel: Grey Dawn, and will complete the trilogy, because I want everyone to know that I’m in flawed like everyone else. I am weak more often that I care to admit. I have doubts on many levels. I’ve failed and I’ve let people down. Yet, I am writing and publishing these books because I want to give people a sense of hope with this fictional story. Moreover, I want people to be inspired by what I’m doing in my real life. Despite all of my shortcomings and the impossible odds, I was able to persevere and was able to make enough money to make ends meet with The Gift of Samuel. From that perseverance and that willingness to take a chance, my goal is to be able to quit my day job so I can become a greater instrument of love, in some other capacity, that is yet to be determined. I wrote The Gift of Samuel to beat the odds and inspire others to follow in my footsteps.

The post One Year Publishing Anniversary appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

Specifically, what happened in the scenario, itself, was pretty terrifying. I was the leader of a small band of people, maybe a dozen, trying to survive during Grey Dawn. We were all dirty, tired, starving, and scared. We were on the move, being chased by what you could call a monster, even though it really wasn’t a monster. It was a man, but he was bigger than most men, his muscles were bulging, he had sharp teeth like a dog or a wolf. That said, nothing compared to the aura of aggression that he exhibited. He was a terror to see and even a greater terror to face (This man eventually inspired the character of Leon in The Gift of Samuel.).

I was leading these people away from Leon, trying to hide from him. Despite my efforts, he eventually caught us. He growled at us, demanding that the leader step forward. I reluctantly took a step and he pulled something out from behind him and put it in front of me in his hand. It was some type of fruit, maybe an apple or something that I could take a bite of directly where I could eat the skin.

He demanded in his deep and rasping voice that I take a bite of the fruit to taste it. I looked around to the others and they only offered blank stares. They gave me no advice and no inkling as to what I should do. Terrified of what he would do if I disobeyed him, I took a bite.

Once I chewed and swallowed the bite, Leon became enraged. He chastised me for not being strong enough to defy him. He threw me down to the ground and began to obliterate me. At that point, I came out of my body and witnessed the beating as if I was an outside spectator, but I was definitely looking at myself. Leon beat me with his large fists and bite at me with his sharp teeth, while the others stood in horror, wondering if they were next.

Suddenly, I left the scene, and was with Samuel, where the two of discussed what did I do wrong. I was too afraid. I needed to be courageous. Suddenly, boom, I’m back in the scene, standing in front of Leon, with him demanding that I take a bite of this fruit to taste it. Again, I looked to the ones behind me, who gave no direction. I remembered what happened the first time and to be courageous, so this time, I refused to take a bite, but I’m still terrified.

As soon as I refused, he threw the fruit to the side and yelled at me, chastising me for daring to disobey him. Again, he threw me down, again, I snapped out of my body, and again I watched from an outside perspective as he beat me to death.

Again, I left the scene and was joined by Samuel where we discussed how I could have done something differently to avoid the brutal outcome. Now, I was frustrated. “I do what he tells me, he kills me,” I protested. “I get up to nerve to refuse to do what he tells me, he kills me. It’s a no-win situation.”

Samuel, in his usual calm and insightful nature, encouraged me to think outside of just those two possibilities. “He’s demanding for your take a bite to taste it,” Samuel said. “Is either taking a bite or not really the only two options you have?”

Boom, I’m back in my body in front of Leon who is demanding that I take a bite of this fruit to taste it. I know what options one and two lead to, and I don’t want to die. I can feel Samuel encouraging me to be strong, to think outside the box.

In that moment I felt the fear leave me, even though this man was three times my size and I had already twice witnessed him bludgeon me to death. I took the fruit out of his hand, and I told him, “You want to know what thing tastes like so bad, why don’t you eat it.” and I shoved the fruit in his mouth.

I watched in disbelief as Leon has an allergic reaction to the fruit and begins to choke to death from his tongue and throat swelling. Finally, he toppled over with a loud thud, dead, with me and my people saved.

The post Thinking Outside The Box appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

I dream of that apartment, St. Clement School, and that alley t-intersection often. However, no dream of that environment was as vivid as the dream I had of meeting Samuel in that t-intersection. The dream began from the second floor of that two-flat that I called home for the first fourteen years of my life.

I was up in my bedroom, getting ready for school. I was late and it was pouring rain outside. I left my room which was adjoined to the dining room, where I looked outside the soaked and blurred window to see the grey sky above. The lightning flashes and thunder roars were sporadic, but intense. Good thing I could leave through the back door that opened to the alley. In less than sixty seconds I would be at St. Clement’s front door.

I walked out of the kitchen, onto the enclosed back porch and down the back stairwell. I could feel the cold and could hear the rain drops pounding on the roof and windows. I walked past the open door on the first floor. It was the apartment of my landlady, Anna Amstedt. She was like a second grandmother to me. I could see down the length of her apartment, but she wasn’t there. She normally wouldn’t leave her back door open like that, giving me an ominous feeling.

I opened the door to the alley, pulled the waterproof hoody over my head, and stepped out into the rain. The alley was full of puddles everywhere and the sprinkles of water against my face were frigid. I shut the door behind me and made my way quickly toward Orchard Street and my school.

As I approached the intersecting alley, there were four people just standing there, waiting for me. One of them as Samuel. I could tell by his unmistakable aura and his smile. Even in the pouring rain, he emitted light. The other three were females that I didn’t recognize.

Without saying a word, Samuel began conveying information to me, telepathically. The three young women were sisters. They all seemed friendly, excited to meet me, again, without any spoken word; it was just known to me. The oldest of the sisters was strong, fearless, and a protector of the other two. The youngest seemed shy and quiet.

Samuel explained to me through my mind that he was in love with the oldest sister, and she was in love with him. They longed to be together, but it was impossible, as it was determined that she would be passing on shortly; she was going to die. The same fate was true for the middle sister. They were both going to die, together. The youngest sister, again the shiest of the three, was going to continue living in this life, for now.

There was no sadness relating to the passing of the two older sisters. It was more a feeling of regret that Samuel and the older sister would not get to have this life together. I telepathically asked them if it was possible for the older sister to live. Samuel allowed me to see that it was possible, but when both scenarios were played it, it was for the best that she “pass on” at the time and place that they had decided, which was near.

Samuel continued, informing me that once the two older sisters were gone, that the remaining sister was going to become pregnant by another man who had questionable motives. While Samuel was not the biological father, he felt a strong obligation to the child and the mother because of the great love he had for the oldest, soon-to-be-deceased sister. Therefore, Samuel vowed that he would protect that child and mother and raise the child as if he were the father.

I could feel Samuel’s dedication to the three women and to the unborn child. He was going to whatever it took to assure their safety. He was a hero in my mind. I wanted nothing more than to be like Samuel.

With that, I was awoken from my sleep and it was time to add another entry into my dream journal.

The post Samuel in love appeared first on The Gift Of Samuel: Grey Dawn.

“Are you still coming to our book club meeting this Friday?” It was my friend and neighbor, Jen, who had graciously suggested The Gift of Samuel to her book club. “BTW, we read your book and another book, so we’ll be discussing both books on Friday.” I told Jen to count me in and asked her for the title of the other book so I could do some research, see what kind of competition I was up against.

“Never in my life have I read a book so well written,” was the first review I encountered. It was a New York Times bestseller, with an average rating of 4.5 out of 5 stars on Goodreads, with over sixty-seven-thousand reviews.  Suddenly, I regretted confirming I would go to the book club before investigating this other book. My competition was a Goliath, and I was petrified.

When I arrived at Jen’s book club, I was greeted by Christine, our evening’s friendly and generous hostess. As I walked into the kitchen where the other nine book club members were gathered, my attention turned to Jen and I bee-lined for the safety of a familiar face to calm my nerves.

Jen gave me a hug and, just then, I heard the unmistakable sound of hands clapping. It was short and my back was turned, so I have no idea if it was just one person or a few, but the sound was distinct. I never asked who clapped, but it was deeply appreciated; without saying a word, I knew I had at least one reader in the group who liked my book.

We gathered in the basement to discuss the two novels, my competition up first. Goliath came out strong, with many of the club members agreeing that it was an excellent book – a page turner, captivating. To my surprise, as the group got into deeper questions, the comments began to shift.

“It definitely kept my attention,” Jen’s sister, Kate, shared. “However, when I finish a book, I want to know what the author’s purpose was for writing it. I could not figure out the purpose of this book.” Curious. Goliath suddenly had a weakness.

“Would you recommend it?” I inquired.

“I would, but only because it’s disturbingly interesting. Whoever I was recommending the book to, I would let them know that it’s disturbingly interesting and that’s the only reason I’m recommending it.”

Given my motive for writing The Gift of Samuel, and Kate’s comment relating to the importance of knowing an author’s purpose for writing a book, I jumped right into the theme question when it was my book’s turn.

“What was the theme of The Gift of Samuel?” I humbly asked the group. The responses came fast and were plentiful.

“Life…Forgiveness…No judgment…No one is perfect…Hope!”

We were off to an excellent start. Might as well get the hard stuff out of the way now, I figured.

“What were the novel’s weaknesses? Please, be honest.” I said.

“You need to re-do the back cover. It doesn’t do the book justice,” Jen’s daughter, Maggie, replied. “This is a great book. You need a great back cover.” Christine voiced that the book was too spiritually driven at times, while Pat thought the ending was too abrupt; she felt there was more story to tell.

“What were the novel’s strengths?” I asked. The responses left me humbled.

“Extremely well written…fantastic story…excellent characters…felt hope at the end…great visual descriptions…unpredictable…engaging.”

From there, we launched into over an hour and a half of deep, nonjudgmental, and respectable conversation, on many sticky subjects, from politics to religion to race…all the things that I hope people will talk about after reading my book, without having to attack and insult each other.

When it was time to wrap things up, I asked my final question, “would you recommend The Gift of Samuel?” The response was a resounding and unanimous, “ABSOLUTELY!”

Driving home, I thought of the fear that had coursed through me before attending the meeting. It was all for nothing. Had I given into my fear and avoided the book club and Goliath, I never would have had such a wonderful experience.

Thank you, Jen, Maggie, Mary, Kate, Megan, Lireen, Joyce, Christine, Patty, and Pat, for an incredible evening. Thank you for reading my book with open minds and open hearts. Most of all, thank you for reminding me that you should never give in to your fears, because faith, hope and love always triumph in the end.

“There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance.” – John Lennon

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I remember lying in bed that night, thinking about that video. Sure, it was certainly a fake, a product of our digital day and age, nothing more. Still, I couldn’t help but think of how cool it would be to be an angel in the afterlife, to have those powers, and to help someone who needed it.

Suddenly, as if the answer had been there all along, I realized how short-sighted I was in my thoughts. I didn’t need to die and cross over, to become an angel, to help someone in this life. It was in that moment of realization that I closed my eyes, took some deep, controlled breaths, and asked God to make me an instrument of his love, in some way.

A couple of days later, my wife and our two sons, toddlers at the time, were leaving breakfast from one of our favorite local restaurants. We had been to that restaurant at least twice a week, for the past few years. As we walked out, my wife abruptly stopped, pointed to a flyer taped to the window, and said, “you should do that, you’d be good at that.” I couldn’t imagine what she was talking about, so I walked up to the flyer. “Become a Hospice volunteer – light up a life” it read.

To some, that would simply have been a coincidence. To me, that was God answering my prayer. I signed up that day to become a Hospice volunteer and can say, with all sincerity, it was the one of the best things I have ever done in this life.

Fast forward to a few years ago. A friend had volunteered to read and edit a very early draft of The Gift of Samuel. We got together to share a meal and go over his thoughts and suggested revisions.

“Dude, I really liked it!” he began. “Clearly your intended audience is young adult.”

“It is?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Absolutely!” he answered, like he couldn’t believe I even asked the question. “First of all, your protagonist is sixteen. Then, your use of basic wording in the novel and the way you kept sentence and story structure simple. Finally, your use of short chapters, breaking the book down to small, digestible portions. I could tell from the onset that you consciously constructed this book to appeal to young adults.”

All I could do was stare at him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He waited for my answer, only to hear silence.

“Am I wrong?” he asked softly.

“It’s not that you’re wrong,” I tried to explain, “it’s just that…I didn’t have any of those specific parameters in my head when I wrote this book. I didn’t consciously choose a sixteen-year-old protagonist. I didn’t consciously choose specific words or sentence structures to appeal to young readers. I didn’t consciously keep the chapters short. That’s just the way the book came out, based on the dreams I has having, and based on my writing style.”

“I can’t believe it.” He responded. “What about the theme of the book – the message of hope and never giving up. That was a conscious decision, right?”

“Honestly, my friend, I just wrote whatever was coming through in my dreams. That’s it.”

“Paul, when I read this book, I had no doubt you made a conscious decision to tailor this story specifically for today’s young adults. I hear so much about teenagers today struggling with depression and suicide, at the highest rates in our countries history, and experts can’t figure out why. Everything about this book suggests you specifically intended it for those young adults in need…and you’re telling me it wasn’t styled like this on purpose…man…what a coincidence!”

So, I ask you: this book, about a sixteen-year-old boy trying to find hope, in a world fraught with despair, based on recurring dreams, from a man who didn’t know the first thing about writing a book, who earnestly asked God to be an instrument of his love…is it just a coincidence?

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