Category: Writing

Thanks to tennis lessons, I am currently learning the importance of follow through. Where you stop your swing makes a noticeable difference in where that shot lands. So the phrase, “Follow through!” has rung repeatedly in my ears in the voices of my twelve year old coaches. (Okay, they aren’t twelve, but they are young enough to make me feel old.)

It comes up off the tennis court as well, like when I sit down at my desk to write. Follow through! I am perceiving that this novel is a real “hand to the plow” scenario; a worthy undertaking not to be accomplished quickly, halfheartedly or without considerable commitment. On Tuesday, I began writing chapter four. The lengthy delay between writing chapters three and four has me pondering my commitment to the task. Except for the occasional interval of overwhelming dedication, this was a struggle as I wrote the first novel too. Instead of being one of the things for which I sacrificed other occupations and activities, time spent writing is included in the category of expendable if other things came up. That’s really no way for a writer to function, at least not a writer who ever wants to get past hobby level. Believe me, I am way past hobby level, even if my consistency doesn’t always show it.

Twenty-four minutes until my work week is finished and I can head home. Only stopping there for a brief visit though, to gather my suitcase and my sister, then it’s time to drive to the good old hometown of Stephenson, MI. Tina’s wedding is tomorrow, which means rehearsal and dinner tonight. Bonus: today is my dear friend, Erin’s birthday and I’ll actually get to spend some time with her tonight. She and her husband are camping out on Lake Michigan at our favorite little park so we will keep company with them after the rehearsal dinner. I’m bringing the cake!

My head is pounding and I just don’t care. Today is a better day than I’ve had in probably two or three weeks straight. This isn’t because of the great weekend ahead, but rather because of the great writing ahead. Traveling, over-socializing, tennis lesson-ing and Bible studying have kept me much too busy, much too able to set aside the book for a very long time. Packed full days turn into packed full weeks, tiredness turns into mental listlessness, and my pen and paper sit neglected in the center desk drawer. I pulled it out earlier this week though. The first day, I left it alone. Let it see the sunlight and breathe the fresh air, but didn’t give it any personal attention. Anytime I stay away too long, I become afraid that I will read what was last written and be forced to admit that it is, for lack of a better term, crap. Fear is my greatest enemy in this matter of writing (and in other matters too, but that’s beside the point). Day two of the notebook being out of the drawer, I read chapters one and two. I remembered how much I care about this story, how excited I am to create these characters. Day three, I read chapter three. My imagination is poised to run with this story. Reinvigorated: that is the summarizing word.

Jessica finished reading the two chapters I have written of The Mercy Hour and came into my room to clarify something. I was already in bed, lights off, grogginess settling over me. “Okay, this Renee girl is great, but how many heads does she have?” I could not stop laughing out loud. Apparently I’d written that this girl waved her “heads” in front of her, rather than her hands. I’m pretty sure this typo will be referenced repeatedly as Jessica gradually reads the book.

I love having Jess along for the journey of writing my novels. (I also love that I get to put an “s” at the end of “novel” now.) She was my only reader until the first draft of Full of Days was complete. It was torture for her because I’d give her several chapters to read every few months and then she’d have to wait through another extended period of time to find out what happens next. What a trooper. I realize that it is to the author’s great benefit to have some folks who can read the manuscript with an unbiased, critical eye, but I am also confident that it’s to my benefit to have Jess around to read it, especially during the long process of writing it. Her excitement and anticipation to read what I’ve written is edifying, to say the least. There are days when I look back over what I’ve written and wonder if I’m fooling myself to believe I can do this. Her enjoyment of my rough, freshly penned pages builds up my faith for the long haul.

She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. – Barbara Alpert

When I opened my curtains this morning, I saw that the buds on the tree outside my window had doubled in size since I last looked. It will have blossoms soon; pink, fragrant, cheery blossoms.

The sight outside my window when I woke this morning put me in a momentarily pouty mood. Snow again. It’s sick. I spent the first twenty minutes of my day wondering yet again where I would rather live instead of Wisconsin. Then I got over it. This day refuses to be brought down by it’s shameful beginning. No, its goodness will prevail.

You see, today is the release day for Jars of Clay’s new album, “The Long Fall Back to Earth.” That fact alone is enough to bless me with a good week, not merely a good day. You can be sure that the first order of business on my lunch break will be driving to the nearby Christian book store to pick up that album. The second order of business will be to free it from its plastic wrapper and insert it into my car stereo. And third, to listen with great enjoyment.

So my favorite band has determined for months that I would have a good day today, on this twenty-first day of April. Yet, there’s more. I did manage to finish my editing last night. I went to sleep way too late with a happy smile on my face. There is a weight gone from my shoulders – a weight I did not mind bearing but am relieved to be free of nonetheless. Even with the transfer of the revisions from paper to computer left to do, I am rejoicing. Months ago, I laid down a rule for myself: No writing the new novel, The Mercy Hour, until the Full of Days editing is complete. Guess what! It’s complete! Idea after idea has rolled around in my head and was jotted down on a dozen different sheets of paper, but I’ve refrained thus far from converting the ideas into paragraphs or chapters. No more! I feel as if a long awaited departure date for a new adventure has arrived. It’s going to be a mighty fine adventure.

Only two chapters left to edit! I think I’ll persevere tonight and trade a little sleep for the sake of finishing. Peter Bradley Adams is one of my ideal accompaniments to writing. So I’ll keep him on and keep going.

“April lay in your hands
The sign of rain for the year
You knew the time had come at last
Your heart no longer called you here”

Even once the editing is done, it’ll take some long sessions at the laptop to type in the revisions. I work on paper, then transfer things to the computer. It’s been that way all along. Writing Full of Days happened with paper and pen. I find that my already meager supply of creativity is bottled and corked when I try to write with a keyboard instead of a pen. Knowing what does and doesn’t work for me bolsters my sense of being a real writer. Having a method, having that small measure of experience, chases away the nasty idea that I’m only fooling myself.