Fabulous Friday!

Whew, haven’t we had some heavy topics this week. They’ve been thought-provoking, and your comments have been great. But for the sheer sake of balance, I’m thinkin’ Forensics and Faith is about due for another crazy story. Problem is, being Friday, my brain is fried.

Perhaps I shall just babble.

Here’s the thing. I am finally within spitting distance of my current book. About 60 pages away from the end. Should be done with the draft—I’d say by a week from tomorrow. Not too long a spit.

Then it’s off to Coeur d’Alene for Thanksgiving. Yay! I will be editing for the first couple days of Thanksgiving week, then doing all final editing after Thanksgiving. THEN—off to Zondervan goes my manuscript.

You writers out there--remember the old days when we had to print out all the pages and mail ’em? What a pain. Plus it was costly. Either in the overnight shipment, ’cause I’d push it to the last minute, or in number of writing days. Now it’s an e-mail, and we’re done!

I have a routine after I hit “send” on that auspicious e-mail. I crawl outta my chair (yes, definitely it is crawling, because I’ve no doubt pulled an all-nighter), get down on my knees and pray. My prayer is quite erudite and literary. It goes something like this:

"Thank you, God, for getting me through another book! Oh, God, thank you! Thank You, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you …"

When I am done with this procedure (which might take some time), I push to my feet, shake myself off—and look dazedly around the office. Wow. So this is where I’ve been all this time. Then I’ll stumble into a vacant-eyed walk through the house. Man, look at all the rooms! Look at all the stuff!

Look at all the ironing!

(I have things to confess about ironing, but I shall leave this for another day.)

Look at the world and all the people!

I must have been glazed out of my mind for the past couple months.

Ah, the sensations. I can almost feel them now. Can’t wait!

But no, I must pull back. I still have pages to write and pages to edit.

Meanwhile it occurs to me I have absolutely no idea what I’ll be cooking for Thanksgiving. Sigh. Ah’ll think about that tamarrah.

For now I’m hangin’ in there, teeth gritted, jaw clenched. Counting the pages to the end. Homestretch, here I come.....!