Cameron Michael Fathauer

[Written one week before book release last year]

Saving the Subject is an approachable but complex book. It could appear as a spider web of concepts, chapters, and sections, or even a labyrinth of sorts, which is why I recommend reading the book at least twice, and slowing down the second time over, perhaps even beginning with a different chapter. I’ve read the book at least seven (7) times and still find myself surprised at how each chapter and section works in tandem with the others, and oftentimes in an unforeseeable manner that is later seen with a second or third reading.

The most important thing that needs to be understood at all times is that this is a deeply personal book. As Matt Schad wrote in the Foreword, “[The book] puts you inside of Cameron’s head, struggling to understand the changes to his thoughts, feelings, and beliefs after his brain injury.”

I’m transparent with the reader primarily about my own emotional, physical, and spiritual turmoil following a severe head injury in 2015. I’m truly putting myself out there, which I have little problem doing because I felt as if I had no real say in the matter. I wasn’t held at gunpoint by someone else; but maybe I was by myself. I had to write what I wrote. And what’s been written cannot be unwritten.

Maybe this vulnerability proves the overarching point of the book: that the human is, indeed, more than an object––or, at the very least, I proved that point to myself. Perhaps this vulnerability will come back to bite me someday. Regardless, my hope is that this vulnerability will be both relatable and encouraging, palatable and inspiring, personal and transforming.

I do not intend for this book to sound “preachy.” And where it may, do understand I’m not preaching anything I haven’t been preaching to myself over the past near decade of my post-TBI struggle. But I do trust three subjects will be seen in the reading: (1) myself, (2) yourself, and (3) God.

While Saving the Subject is certainly not the Bible, it may be considered a lowercase “b” bible for me. In it, I hardly point the finger, if at all, at the reader. So where I call the reader to do something, or even mention something uncomfortable, know that I’m not calling the reader to do something I haven’t done, or to embrace an uncomfortable fact/concept/reality/truth that I haven’t found necessary to embrace myself. Put briefly, if there’s anything you dislike in the book, please realize that I didn’t like it first.

There are three core themes/concepts in Saving the Subject. The first is the subject-object relationship, which comes down to finding a person in a world of objects, to distinguishing beings from things. The second theme is faith in a personal being higher than ourselves, which ties into the third theme of authority. Although the book appears scattered and at times disjointed in its organizational flow, I assure you that this isn’t so.

My test readers found the preface “You Can Read This Book” and original table of contents enlightening to the patterns of the writing. In June of 2023, I sat down at Heine Brothers’ coffee shop in New Albany, Indiana, and started writing about a book idea. I quickly jotted down a table of contents for the book, which was rather unusual for me. I’ve stuck with this table of contents throughout the entire writing process:

Chapter 1: Subject Observed – What he appears to be

Chapter 2: Subject Personified – Who he is

Chapter 3: Subject Directed – What to do about him

Chapter 4: Subject Defined – What he is

Chapter 5: Subject Destined – Where he is going

Chapter 6: Subject Saved – Who can help him

Chapter 7: Subjected – How then to live

I’ve always favored a “stream of consciousness” style, letting the pen take me where it may.  But this book was different. The outline slipped mysteriously into my mind and onto the page, just as my freshly ground brew was cooling down. I left the coffee shop excited for what was to come.

There is no substantive difference between the original table of contents and the current version. I simply changed the heading titles about a week before submitting my final edits to the publisher. Christian Faith Publishing (CFP) turned out to be the perfect fit for this project.

Initially, I was drawn to CFP because the representative that read my manuscript told me how her son had a serious brain injury and that she was extremely encouraged by my book. CFP is a nontraditional publishing house that produces a general array of faith-based books, a number of which are children’s books. There is no particular denomination or theological bent to CFP, and people from various religious backgrounds publish with them.

CFP was perfect for me because they granted me the unfettered freedom to write what I wanted and the way I wanted. Thus, my first book is very much my book. I also get to keep 100% of my rights in the work. As to editing, CFP would make very minor changes and provide recommendations, but the bulk of editing came down to me. I went through four (4) rounds of editing a 75,000 word manuscript, line by line. It was a grueling but rewarding time.

However, I did have some reservations and potential regrets about CFP because they are not a big name publisher and I worry about people not taking me seriously for that reason. But, as they say, the proof is in the pudding. You tell me what you think of the book’s quality. I poured approximately 600 hours into this book, including twelve (12) all-nighters––and I think not in vain.

Back to the table of contents. I made surface-level changes to the headings of the table of contents at the very last minute out of a concern for reaching a wider audience and to increase interest in the content. I wanted to avoid scaring readers away with academic-sounding headings because, as some of the test readers mentioned, there is something in this book for everyone.

Originally, I intended Saving the Subject to be an academic work. Hence, I had interest and correspondence with University of Chicago Press about the book, along with consideration from B&H Academic and Crossway. While these publishers ultimately turned me down, they all mentioned something about how they are looking forward to seeing how the book performs in the marketplace and how it will be received by the world.

This gets at some very encouraging feedback I received on the manuscript from an editor at Crossway. The editor began their email by saying, “This is a unique book, with a lot of skill demonstrated in weaving together dense philosophical insights and your personal story.” The editor saying the book is “unique” is a huge compliment in the world of book publishing. There are countless books out there, with more being published as I write, making it difficult to stand out in an ever-crowded marketplace. I am confident that this book will come as a surprise to everyone who reads it.

While Saving the Subject is a unique book, it is also a risky one. It really could blow up with the inspiring story, eclectic approach, integration of several genres, and universal themes of love, tragedy, trial, faith, triumph, inspiration, truth, identity, etc. On the other hand, it could be too much –– too complicated, too difficult to follow, or seemingly too religious – resulting in a literary flop. I am prepared for either outcome. No matter what: I firmly believe the book will reach people because that’s all it is good for; it wasn’t written for objective gain but for a subjective purpose: to tug at souls.

Saving the Subject wields a variety of soul-tugging ropes. There’s the rope of philosophy, knotting the mind; the rope of poetry, curling the emotions; the rope of tragedy, wrapping the legs; the rope of fiction, whipping the air; the rope of testimony, snagging the ears; and the rope of hope, tugging the heart.

Even though my soul was tugged throughout the writing process, I do not expect the same experience to occur for the reader. Yet I remain confident that at least some of those ropes will pull the reader, perhaps at times even pulling stronger than they pulled the writer.

Yes, my first book is a lasso to the world.