I promise I won’t turn this into a “woe is me” blog.
There was a question on the NaNoWriMo forums tonight. I often don’t get involved in discussions there, but this one tugged at me. The question that prompted the discussion was a simple one. “Anyone else just not… feeling it?”
I thought I’d share my reply. I don’t even know why I posted it. I guess I needed to “get it out of my system.”
Right now, I’m living the opposite. I’m feeling it too much. My book is about the deep relationships that support one another in good times and bad–especially between people who don’t truly know each other. How prayer binds strangers and molds them into dearest friends. And I’m living it. Six days into this month, my three year old grandson was electrocuted by a downed power line and is now in a burn unit, awaiting his third skin grafts. It’s horrible because his story is exactly what my book is about. People–strangers– all over the world are praying for a little boy they’ve never met and likely never will. The outpouring of love for us is overwhelming. I sit down to write and instead, my fingers freeze, my throat swells, and I wonder how things could be so perfect and wonderful when everything is so horribly wrong.
I think I’d rather just not feel it right now. Ironic, eh?
Back to your regularly scheduled (or loosely anyway) blogging. Next time, what’s up with the publishing schedule, eh?
