It boils down to this: traditional vs. ebook.

I certainly enjoy the benefits of publishing online, and presenting material in a downloadable, read-on-a-screen format. I have done exponentially more reading online this past year as I follow blogs and have had some access to epublications, and I really do enjoy it. I love reading on the go, even on the small screen of my iPhone. It is flat out convenient.

But then there is this feeling of having a book in your hands, letting the pages flick under your fingers. Sitting it on a bookshelf, scribbling in the margins on a second read through. There isn’t a feeling that can match cracking open the cover of a book you’ve been waiting to read.

It’s kind of like giving up CDs and buying albums on itunes. Sure it’s conveneint, but there is just something about holding the CD in your hands, having the jewel case that you I will lose and the insert that adds no value to the music.

Of course, there is always room for both; it doesn’t have to be an either/or scenario. I just wonder, could I be happy with a book published exclusively online? I am completely happy producing material like the Going Pro resource online, as I feel it is the best way to distribute free material. But a book…I am just not sure.

Do you have any thoughts on the issue?Do you read ebooks, or stick to traditionally printed books?

“The power of accountability comes from your community – those around you who have a vested interest in your work and life…your accountability to your own ideas is greatly amplified when you ‘go public’ on any project – and even more so when you publicly proclaim your goals.”

– Scott Belsky in Making Ideas Happen (available in the Going Pro Bookstore)

When did you look at your Twitter stream and realize this could be a book?

It happened last year when people kept telling me that I needed to collect all my tweets about Lexi and put them in a book. Different people kept saying it and eventually I realized they were right.

Your daughter is hilarious, and you seem to have a humorous outlook on life as well. How has humor played a role in this addition to your family?

Life can be a little too overwhelming if you’re not willing to sit back and find some humor in it. That’s part of why I share funny stories about my kids—sometimes kids can drive you nuts and you need to remember the positive moments.

Laughter can keep you sane.

Your humanitarianism seemed to be amplified by Milo’s adoption and your time spent in Ethiopia. How did that trip to pick up Milo affect your view on international issues?

When Milo joined our family we became a multicultural, international family. We have roots that go beyond Minnesota—they go all the way to Ethiopia. They’re Milo’s brothers and sisters, my sons and daughters. How could I ignore the plight of those I’m so deeply connected to?
So yeah, my humanitarianism became amplified. It’s kind of a no-brainer. That’s why we’re trying to build a clean water well in Ethiopia.

I blogged about this after Haiti (http://www.kevindhendricks.com/2010/01/21/why-haiti-matters-compassion-by-connection/), but our compassion is amplified when we have a personal connection. We need more and deeper connections. And this one is the deepest.

Why a traditional book consisting of content from a micro-blogging site? Had you thought of an epublication to present the material, or was it paper and ink all the way?

I wanted my Grandma to read it, so it had to be paper and ink. I’m certainly not opposed to a digital version (and I’m giving away PDFs to anyone who makes a donation to charity: water), but it seemed like less of a draw. Reading tweets on a Kindle seemed like a hard sell—you need the paperback.

But now that we have it published I am trying to explore the Kindle and iPad opportunities.

Share a bit about your efforts to bring clean water to those without, and how this book will help accomplish that goal.

My wife had been pushing charity: water before we went to Ethiopia, but while we were there it really hit home for me. I saw people gathered around muddy trickles of water with those yellow jerry cans. I got sick from the water. Milo came home with a water-borne parasite. The importance of clean water and the tremendous lack throughout the world became painfully obvious (literally so).

So last year we did the Bald Birthday Benefit and I offered to shave my head if we could give clean water to 30 people for my 30th birthday. In the end friends, family and strangers donated enough to give clean water to 130 people (more than $2,600) and I was bald.

When it came time to publish the book I wanted to give back in some way and water was a no-brainer. So we’re hoping to raise $5,000 to build a well in Ethiopia through charity: water. At least $2 from every copy of the book will go to charity: water (if you buy the ‘Awesome Edition’ a whopping $12 will go to charity: water). So far we’ve raised about $1,000, most of it coming from people making donations and not just from the book sales, so that’s pretty cool to see.

Water is such a simple thing—we don’t even think about. But in other parts of the world they spend hours gathering water that makes them sick. In Ethiopia it kills 300,000 kids every year. Water is the number one cause of infant mortality. How crazy is that? It seems like a small thing, but clean water means life.

I am familiar to Twitter, so the format seemed to work well, although I am sure the book would be enjoyable to those unfamiliar with Twitter as well. It was the first I had seen of anything like this, so I was fascinated as I read the story woven through a Twitter stream.

Hendricks uses plenty of humor as he tells stories of potty training, slightly less than ordinary breakfast routines and the beginning of a new era as his new son, Milo, enters the family. On top of that, Lexi,  the daughter and star of the book, provides bits of hilarity the entire way through.

While the book is full of Kid’s Say the Darnedest Things humor, you also witness a family  processing the gravity of adding a son and brother from across the globe to their family. Along with working through the process of addition by adoption, the family champions the cause of global poverty relief, specific to that of water in southern Ethiopia, where Milo was born.

The desire to provide assistance to the people of Ethiopia is clear in the book, but perhaps the greatest indication of the family’s humanitarianism is the goal to build a well in Ethiopia through charity: water with the book’s proceeds.

The book was a great read, and was as inspiring as it was funny. You may zip through the pages quickly, but the spirit of the Hendricks family will stay with you well after you put down the book.

You can pick up the book on Amazon (affiliate link) here or give toward the water campaign here. You can also purchase an “Awesome Edition” which come autographed with $12 being donated for water, 10 copy multipack with $20 donated for water or donate $1,000 and have the author shave his head. All of these alternative options can be found here.

For more perspective on the book, here are a couple reviews and a Q&A from other bloggers I admire a great deal:

• Sam Duregger’s review
• Church Crunch’s review  by Adam Shields
• Justin Wise’s Q&A
• More reviews and press on the book’s site, here

So far, we have work by:

• screenwriting guru Robert McKee
• master writer Steven Pressfield
• genius designer Stefan Sagmeister
• new author and CEO of Behance Scott Belsky
• writing legend Stephen King
• marketing maven Seth Godin
• Get Things Done man David Allen
• 37 Signals founder Jason Fried
• one half of the dynamic Heath duo Chip Heath

Click below to enter the Going Pro Bookstore.

And if you haven’t checked out Going Pro yet, you can download the free resource here!

Below are my Amazon links – and I truly encourage you to check out these books if you don’t currently own them. They are the type of books that need to be placed on a nearby shelf within quick reach. They need to be read, and read again, and read once more. The words are timeless and profound.

The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning – It was in the first few pages of the book that I realized he was talking about me. Not the theory of following Jesus, but he was telling the story of my faith journey. This quote, even among a sea of literary and theological gems, rocked my world a bit. Even as the cheese is falling off my cracker, I continue to clutch my teddy bear.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller – This book made me ask some big questions. Big, soul-searching questions. While I read the book, I began to experience a desire to live a good story. Miller is not only a great storyteller, but also brings the reader along in the quest to live great stories of their own. I have since come to the realization that great stories (written and lived) are created in the editing process.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield – I haven’t read many books on the craft of writing, but this book was brilliant. More than “how to write” or “how to be creative” this was a book about conquering fear, doubt, confidence and anything else that keeps an artist from creating. I have a new found desire to become a pro, and conquer the Resistance.

What have you read lately that has changed your perspective?

The dichotomy between what we say and what we do is so pervasive in the church and in society that we actually come to believe our illusions and rationalizations and clutch them to our hearts like favorite teddy bears.

We hang on to appearances because we are afraid to be transparetly not good enough.

What are you clutching?

I received Brennan Manning’s The Ragamuffin Gospel for Christmas from my in-laws. I’ve been wanting to read it for a long time.

In the introduction to the book, Manning clarifies the book’s intended audience. He writes several descriptions about for whom the book is not intended, followed by several more about for whom the book is intended. One description captured my attention and heart:

It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.

That is an eloquent description of my attempt to follow in the Way of Christ.

What about you, how would you describe your attempt to follow Jesus?

I was one of the several fortunate people to receive an advance copy of Mark Batterson’s latest book, Primal to review. As I expected, Batterson didn’t disappoint. The book is a well-written, focused challenge to the modern Church. Batterson writes with conviction and passion as he encourages followers of Christ to reclaim their ancient, primal faith.

Primal begins by taking the reader on a descent into catacombs below a Roman church, where second-century Christians worshiped in private in fear of persecution from the Roman empire. “…when you’re standing in an ancient catacomb, the comforts you enjoy make you feel uncomfortable…I couldn’t help but wonder if our generation has conveniently forgotten how inconvenient it can be to follow in the footsteps of Christ.” It is with this conviction that Batterson navigates the faith of the  first-world, twenty-first century Church.

Primal is about discovering something in ourselves that has been neglected, buried and forgotten. A rediscovery of a past love. A first love. Remembering what it means to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. Batterson calls for, and prescribes the components of a new reformation based on loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves. “the next reformation will be lead by millions of reformers living compassionately, creatively, and courageously for the cause of Christ.” Undoubtedly, Primal’s readers are those Batterson describes to lead the next great reformation.

I would encourage you, whether you have read Batterson’s other books or this would be your first, to pick up a copy of Primal and join in the creation of the faith’s next reformation. By the way, the book releases December 22 (but you can pre-order now) on Amazon.com.

The writing was often very lyrical when dealing with creation, did the content dictate the style?

Yes it did. But it wasn’t the only factor. I would say that the content combined with our default view of said content dictated the style. As western Christians we have some real mental callouses developed in certain areas (defenses against seeing things as they are). I tried to write around those callouses (or rip right through them when I could). So, when dealing with some of the things we would normally dismiss as humdrum or dull or tacky, you can expect me to wax poetic. When dealing with some rather more transcendent and metaphysical issues, you’ll find clipped and blunt communication. The goal is always to get the reader to blink and then see what has often been hidden in plain sight.

You make several references to mythology and philosophy, how much of a role have these each had in shaping the way you view your faith?

There’s a lot to navigate here. Mythology and philosophy (as they are typically understood) are to my faith what sogged and floppy green beans are to an otherwise excellent meal–less than unnecessary. The smell of Fall has shaped my faith more than they have. But the story of Christianity isn’t just mythology, it’s The Mythology–the story bones upon which all else hangs. And the Christian life isn’t meant to be dotted with the occasionally philosophical (and ponderous) moment. The Christian life is meant to be Philosophia–a true love for and pursuit of wisdom. Even understood this way, they don’t really shape how I view my faith–my faith shapes how I view them. Faith provides new eyes. New eyes see a new world (and all the strange creatures therein, including philosophy).

How was the writing process different for writing this book than the children’s material you have written?

Pretty much in every way. The most notable difference was in how personal it was. Writing kid lit is terrific. You get to be a cook in a kitchen, well hidden behind swinging doors, but listening to the woops and hollers as the dishes make their way to the table. Writing Tilt was mechanically similar (sitting at a desk, typing), but much different in delivery. My own life, thoughts, and personality were far more directly part of the product. I hadn’t stayed back in the kitchen. Sending the book out into the great, wide, Christian world felt a little bit like streaking through a megachurch. A very new and not altogether pleasant sensation.

If you could bring back one dead philosopher to have a one-on-one conversation with, who would it be?

Don’t bring any of them back. Let sleeping dogs and philosophers lie. But if I could chat with anyone where they are now, it would be Camus. Primarily for narrative reasons. Since I believe his life of despair ended in faith, it would be a startling privilege to see true joy and peace in a French Existentialist–like looking up at the moon to see it suddenly lush with forests and warm seas.

Thank you to N.D. Wilson for taking the time out to field my questions! If you haven’t checked out his book, I promise it is worth the read! Go read and enjoy.