If writing a novel is anything like running a marathon I’m in for wall real soon.

I’ll take sprinting any day over long distance running. If I’m running fast and hard I can make myself finish 200 meters. But if I know I have a mile or two or more (that’s long to me), my legs feel like lead from the first stride.

Hopefully writing this novel won’t end up that way.  So far I’m taking it as short sprints each day.   1600 plus words a day is feeling more like a sprint than I thought it would.  So far I’m churning out about 2000 words a day.  I lack vocabulary, but I’m not repeating “Um,” or “that” as much as I was thinking I would.  We’ll see.  We’re only on day 2.

Blogging is sort of my re-living of the day and sharing personal meditations that touched me.  Journalling is my private release of prayers and concerns, even complaints and dreams that I can’t share with just anyone and everyone.  So far, writing this novel, is sort of my public release of secret struggles.  I can hide them in a fictional setting and work through them without hurting any of the real people in my life.  I wonder if that’s what fiction writers do, at least in part.

I’m seeing this novel as some form of therapy so far.  It feels relieving.

I’ve been working on our women’s Bible study too.  We only have 4 meetings but 5 women to cover so I put Ruth and Bathsheba together in this month’s study.  Doesn’t seem fair really.  Ruth has an entire book in the Bible, Bathsheba isn’t even mentioned by name in Matthew’s genealogy.  But I’m finding they fit well together.  They’re pillars of grace that support the raw-worshipping shepherd-king after God’s own heart. 

Quieted,
Sheila

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