Are Authors Egomaniacs?

How do you convince people to buy your new book without coming across like a total egomaniac? That's really the question we're asking today isn't it? How can we (authors specifically) help our social media friends and fans feel like we're doing something for them or with them...rather than to them?

As the morning show co-host and social media coordinator for the radio station I work for (Family Friendly WBGL), I'm familiar with the challenges many authors face when trying to build an online platform. But now, as a new author myself, I'm facing those same difficulties personally. The main question seems to be: How do I create a social media presence that is compelling enough to draw people in, yet not so self-promoting as to push them out?

My new book is called Branded: Sharing Jesus with a Consumer Culture, and it looks at how to share our faith in ways that resonate with those around us. In a nutshell the book's theme is: "Relationship spreads ideas." As it turns out, relationship sells books too. Here are two principles I try to keep in mind when talking about Branded on my Facebook page and Twitter account:


1. Social networking should be an accurate reflection of my total person. Yes, my job as an author is a significant portion of who I am, but so is my family, my faith, and even the pseudo-mundane things in between. No one is going to want to be around me in person if I talk exclusively about one thing...so why in the world would they want to be around me if I do it on Facebook or Twitter? People are multidimensional and our online personas should be as well.

2. Social networking isn't about me, it's about them. People don't follow me because of me, they follow me because of what they get from me. Everything I post needs to run through the how-does-this-benefit-the-reader filter. Is it interesting, helpful, funny? Does it make my follower or fan want to do something or share something? If a potential post or blog or tweet doesn't evoke a feeling of some sort, it's probably not worth posting.

So how have I done this with Branded?

From the very beginning of the publishing process, I tried to involve my online friends and fans. With the permission of my publisher, I let people vote on the title and sub-title of the book, give their opinions and comments on the cover art, and even read short excerpts of the book on my blog. This gave my followers a unique sense of ownership in a project that was still many months from hitting shelves.

In the weeks leading up to publication, I began periodically posting short quotes from Branded on Facebook and Twitter along with a link to the pre-sale page on Amazon. This was designed to "soft sell" the ideas in the book, without a specific "ask" to buy a copy. I also announced a handful of book signings during this period. Again, this allowed me to "talk about the book without talking about the book."

Now that Branded has been out for a few weeks, I'm trying to be extra-creative. My entire fan base already knows that the book is available, so it's now my job to remind them in helpful ways that don't feel like reminders. Posting links to interviews or online reviews is one way. Re-tweeting or sharing other people's comments about the book is another. Since I am a non-fiction author, I have decided to offer a 30-minute Skype session to any small group who decides to study the book. I've encouraged people (with free gift cards and books) to tweet or share or like or "+1" various links and blogs.

Will all of this work? I have no idea. Branded has been out for almost exactly a month. But I think these are steps in the right direction. What do you think?

Grading Someone Else's Problem...

A number of school districts (and even entire states) have recently adopted policies that will begin measuring the Body Mass Index of students and placing a corresponding "weight grade" on his or her report card. In addition to the A's and B's and C's handed out for subjects like math and reading, kids in these schools will receive similar marks on their height-weight ratio.

Nearly every comment I have seen regarding this idea says it is a terrible plan. The concerns, mainly from parents, run from damaging the self-esteem of our children to giving the government too much control over our lives. Many are also worried about things like eating disorders and teachers playing the role of doctors. The Body Mass Index as a legitimate indicator of health is certainly in question too.

While I agree that grading a child's BMI is an awful idea, my objection is not for the same reason as most. My problem is this: when a school grades a child on his or her BMI, they are grading a student based on something that is almost completely out of that child's control.

At least until high school, kids don't make their own money. Kids don't buy their own food. Kids don't drive themselves to McDonald's. Kids don't fill their own plates. Kids don't choose their own mealtimes or regulate their own snacks. Kids don't pick the school lunch menu. Parents do. Or grandparents do. Or daycare does.

The amount of exercise an elementary school child gets is slightly less dependent on parents, but not much. Kids can't move to a safer neighborhood on their own. Kids can't get out of a grass-less community alone. Kids can't sign up for t-ball or soccer by themselves. Kids can't make it light outside after they get home from the babysitter. And, even if they could, periodic exercise is hardly enough to overcome regular drive-thru and microwave meals. (I won't even get into the numerous genetic factors we could take into consideration.)

Grading a child based on BMI is, in effect, akin to grading them based on the clothes they wear, the backpack they use, or the car they're driven to school in. There is little that a seven or eight year old can do to change either without mom's or dad's immediate involvement. In reality, a "weight grade" doesn't measure the students' progress, it measures the parents' progress (or lack thereof).

It seems to me that the key to solving America's childhood obesity problem doesn't lie in our schools. It lies in solving America's adult obesity problem first.

Is There a Wrong Way to Pray?

Pastor Joe Nelms made news headlines over the weekend after his prayer at a weekend NASCAR event in Nashville. Quoting both a movie and a former racing legend, Nelms thanked the Lord for "my smokin' hot wife" as well as for "Sunoco Racing Fuel and Goodyear tires." He closed by saying, "In Jesus' name. Boogity, boogity, boogity. Amen."

I've heard the prayer called everything from refreshing to ridiculous. From brave to bizarre. Christians, particularly, have very strong opinions on the matter. One Facebook commenter said it this way: "If quoting a movie in a prayer makes a good connection with the listeners then, by all means, let the good times roll." Another said, "His prayer was really over the top. At one point in his prayer I was thinking it was almost to the point of being blasphemous."


Honestly, I've been struggling to wrap my brain around why this whole situation has rubbed me the wrong way. I'm completely in favor of using our God-given strengths and talents and personalities to reach our own, individual spheres of influence in relatable ways. (Heck, I wrote a book about it.) I'm also totally for talking to God in everyday language, just like we would talk to our friends or family. And yet something deep inside me has been unsettled since I first read the news story.


After wrestling with this for awhile today, I think my main problem is that I'm even thinking about this prayer at all. As best I can tell, another person's prayer isn't supposed to be about anyone other than them and God. Ever. It's not for witnessing. It's not for teaching. It's not for relating to a crowd. It's not for making me feel better.


Matthew 6:5-6 says, “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen."


Can prayer be powerful and life-changing for those who witness it? Of course. Can it encourage someone who is hurting or lost? Absolutely. But it should never be intended for anyone other than Christ. It should never be crafted for the ears of men. The powerful and life-changing stuff that happens as a result of public prayers is because of God's actions, not because of our words.


The problem here isn't what Pastor Joe Nelms said. The problem isn't with where he said it or how he said it. The problem is that we're analyzing this (me included) as if he said it for us. But prayers aren't for people's ears. Performances are. And the only person who can honestly say which one this was is Pastor Joe himself.

Even If You DO Nothing, You're SAYING Something

Former NBA player Charles Barkley once said, "I'm not a role model. Just because I dunk a basketball doesn't mean I should raise your kids." Miley Cyrus made a similar comment recently: "My job isn't to be a parent. Your kids are going to make mistakes whether I do or not. That's just life."

Sorry Charlie, like it or not, you are a role model. And while it's not your job to parent my kids, you are an influence Miley. Saying otherwise simply means you don't want to deal with the undeniable consequences of your actions. You want to do what you want to do...free of any guilt associated with how your life is impacting other people. Unfortunately, being a role model isn't a choice. The only choice in the matter lies in what kind of role model you are. Good or bad?

Choosing to live your life however you want to is fine, as long as you're cool with knowing that (at the same time) your behavior is encouraging and influencing many thousands of others to live the exact same way. You can't have your cake and eat it too. Choices have consequences.

The truth of the matter is that we are all role models. Every single one of us. We all represent something or someone, which means that our words and our actions really do matter to people other than ourselves. Like it or not, we give people an impression of our family, our job, our church, or our neighborhood every minute of every day. Even if we do nothing, we're saying something.

Several people have recently told me (in response to my book Branded) that Jesus doesn't need marketing. And, they're right, He doesn't. But that doesn't change the fact that you and I are marketing him. As Christians, everything we say and do pays witness to the One who's name we bear. As "little Christs" we are reflections of Jesus. Our individual lives are painting a collective picture of who Jesus is and of what Christianity is all about.

Like Charles and Miley, you and I don't get to choose whether or not we paint - only how we do it.

If It Doesn't Hurt, You're Not Doing It Right

I watched Facebook and Twitter light up last week as a Florida jury found Casey Anthony not guilty of killing her two year old daughter. I watched as post after post expressed outrage, shock, anger, and even hatred toward Casey and the jury who let her walk free. I'll admit, the verdict surprised me too.

Several days afterward on the WBGL morning show, we tried to bring the situation close to home by asking the question: "How would you respond if Casey joined your small group?" Given the anger from 48 hours earlier, I was somewhat caught off guard by the endless number of loving and generous responses.

I would accept her.

I would do my best not to judge.

I would be thankful.

I would feel flattered.

The church isn't for saints but for sinners.

And I agree. In fact, if I had answered my own question that day, I would have likely said, "First of all, none of us was there when Caylee died. None of us was in the courtroom when the case was presented. Legally, we should offer her the benefit of the doubt. And, spiritually, we're called to love her regardless of what the law says."

However, less than an hour after asking that question, I got a phone call from a listener in need of prayer. She told me that a man in her church - a teacher - was on trial for having an inappropriate relationship with a student. While he professed innocence, there was evidence to the contrary. Many in her congregation were struggling with how to react to what was happening in their own backyard. Should they rally around this man? Distance themselves? Wait for the court to decide?

This woman's battle, however, was much greater than simply sharing a church with a potential felon. Her daughter had just told her that (despite the charges against him) she had fallen in love with this man, and he with her. Given the legal situation and the nine year age difference, the mom on the phone was both terrified and angry. How could she not be?

Which begs the question, have I really extended grace or forgiveness or trust to someone if it doesn't hurt to do so? If there's no risk involved? If it doesn't cost me much? It's easy to say that I would love Casey Anthony if she joined my small group because, first of all, the chances of it happening are next to zero. Secondly, even if she did, it wouldn't be that hard to keep my potential reservations about her actions and character at arm's length.

But what if my two boys were 20 years older and one of them started dating Casey? Could I forgive then? Could I trust then? Or would I fight like a dog to keep that woman away from my son? I think I know the answer, and it's not the same as the churchy answer I gave to my own question earlier.

Since 99.9% of us don't know Casey nor will we ever have any sort of direct contact with her, we have nothing on the line. None of us is truly offering her forgiveness or trust or grace...we're just saying we would while hoping like crazy that we never have to.

The Story Behind the Project

Knowing that something exists and knowing why it exists are two very different things. For example: Knowing that there's a black wall with a bunch of names on it in Washington D.C. is not the same as understanding that the names inscribed on the wall are those of the more than 58,000 who gave their lives fighting for our country in Vietnam.

Understanding "the story behind the project" makes all the difference in the world.

I think most of you know that I've written a book. It has a white cover with a gumby-looking guy on it, and there are some words inside. It's called Branded, and it's available in bookstores and online now. But, I'm guessing you probably don't know why I wrote it.

When I was in Jr. High and High School, I distinctly remember saying, "I'm not very good at evangelism." It wasn't true of course, but church had taught me that evangelism involved going door to door, approaching strangers in the mall, and picking certain unsaved friends as "projects." So, in those respects, I was pretty terrible.

Though barely a teenager, everything about those methods felt wrong to me. At times they made me physically sick. I assumed my adverse reaction was because I didn't love Jesus enough. I assumed it was because my faith wasn't strong enough to stand up for Christ in front of others. I assumed it was because I wasn't "an evangelist." But I assumed wrong.

It wasn't until well after college that I realized Jesus didn't ask me to do any of those things. Church did. My uneasiness wasn't because I was talking about Jesus, it was because I was being rude. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable evangelizing, it was that I was uncomfortable claiming to care about a stranger's eternal destiny while refusing to care about their "right now." It wasn't that I couldn't defend my faith, it was that I couldn't defend intentionally interrupting someone's dinner because I wanted to "sell them something."

The first line of Branded says, "It's weird. I'm a Christian, and even I don't like us very much." If you've ever felt that way, I hope you'll pick up a copy of the book. There is a more effective, more natural way to share your faith, and Branded gives you permission to do it. I think I needed that permission myself.

Is Your Tithe a Gift or a Business Decision?

We all have one. A seemingly meaningless incident - an innocent exchange - that alters us forever. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not.

Mine came during my freshman year of college. As I was helping some friends move into our dorm, we were approached in the parking lot by a disheveled-looking man who needed help. He explained that he and his wife had just brought their daughter to school from several hours away but had spent their last dollars changing a flat tire. They needed gas to get home and didn't have the money.

I don't remember what my friends did, but I distinctly recall reaching into my pocket and giving the man a ten dollar bill. It was all I had. But it felt good. It felt right.

Several weeks later, about half a mile away from my dorm, I was walking home from class. From behind me I heard, "Excuse me, sir?" I turned to see the man from move-in day. He continued. "I've had some car trouble and need money to get it fixed." My stomach turned. "You don't remember me, do you?" I asked. He didn't. "You got me once, and you're not going to get me again."

As I walked away, I had no idea that I was really saying, "You got me once, and no one is going to get me again."

For the last fifteen years, every time someone I don't know asks me for a handout I think of that man from college and immediately recoil. I think of how he conned me. How he lied $10 away from an 18 year old. How he didn't use the money for gas, but probably on alcohol or cigarettes or drugs. How he was doing the same thing to many hundreds of other unsuspecting philanthropists.

Human nature tells us to want something in exchange for our money. In a market-based society, we want a good deal. If I give you $10 dollars, I want at least $10 dollars worth of stuff in return. Back in college I wanted $10 dollars worth of a good feeling. I wanted the joy of knowing (or at least thinking) that I helped a family in need buy enough gas to get home. I didn't get that good feeling, and it made me mad.

Working in ministry, however, has begun to change my thinking on this issue - but not in the way you might expect.

I can't tell you how many times I've answered the phone or opened an email over the years that started with: "We're regular givers to your ministry, and...." The "and" is always (and I mean always) followed by a critique, a demand that something or someone change, or a sharp condemnation of how the caller or emailer's expectations have not been met. They lead with the money part as if to say, "Do what I want you to do, or I'm pulling my support." Often they actually do. (Pastors see this ALL the time. Just ask one.)

Apparently, most "gifts" aren't gifts at all, they're purchases. People who put restrictions on a gift aren't givers, they're customers. They want something specific in return for what they've given and, when they don't get it, they get mad. They take their ball and go home. Kinda like I did in college. I didn't get what I wanted out of my charity, so I refused to help anymore.

After more than a decade of working for non-profits, I see the hypocrisy of my position. True gifts are not about the people or organizations we're led to give to, but about the One calling us to give in the first place. We are to give to those in need because Jesus asks us to, not because the recipients are somehow "worthy" of the gift.

Anything less than that is nothing more than a business decision.

I'm Joining Your Bible Study!

At least three times in the past week, I've had small group or Bible study leaders tell me that their respective groups plan to study my new book Branded this summer. As we've talked, each leader has gone on to ask, "Would you be willing to join us one night to be a part of the discussion and answer questions?"

While I have been able to say yes to a couple of these requests, my frustration has been wishing that I could somehow magically show up at everyone's group to be a part of these discussions. Then I realized, I could - via Skype!

So, if your Bible study, small group, church, or staff decides to study Branded this year, I will set up one free video Skype chat to talk with you. I'm happy to answer questions, lead a discussion, talk about my vision for the book, or even pray together. It's up to you.

Just buy at least eight copies of the book (or eBook), and I'll make plans to join your group for thirty minutes or so. All you need to do is send me an email telling me what group you're a part of, how many copies you bought, and where you bought them. Then, we'll work out a date and a time to get together.

I'm looking forward to joining you!