A beautiful day, cool and sunny, after it rained all day yesterday–and I just couldn’t wait to get outside and resume work on Bell Mountain No. 13, The Wind From Heaven.
That wind was blowing for me–eight pages, whoosh! I usually average around three, or four on a good day. So this day was special.
All right, I knew what this chapter was going to be about: just as often, I don’t. Man, when Lord Chutt finds out what happened in this chapter, he’ll hit the ceiling. The poor guy’s had a lot of unsettling surprises lately: sometimes it’s tough to be the villain.
May my work be fruitful in your service, Lord.
Two weeks ago I was trying to beat the heat. Now it’s the cold.
I don’t normally try to work on my book on Sunday, but for once it wasn’t raining, and with more rain forecast for tomorrow, I thought I’d better at least try. Only problem–the cold. I mean, it’s kind of hard when the ink doesn’t want to come out of the pen; and shivering makes my handwriting still worse.
Brilliant idea–put on a sweater, with my winter coat on top of that, and gloves, and take my bike out for a ride up a very long hill. I thought that might warm me up, and I was right, it did. Which gave me almost two hours’ writing time when I got back.
I rely on the Lord to empower me to write my books, and this time, Lord, I’m gonna need a lot of help. I still don’t have the climax of His Mercy Endureth Forever, and there’s lots and lots of wild stuff going on in Obann. Some of the characters have done things I wasn’t expecting. I’m starting to feel like the writers of an Akira Kurosawa movie: they never knew where the director was going to make them go.
Lord Orth, if you only knew what kind of trouble you get me into–!