Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Home sweet home...

Christians claim to long for that “house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” that Paul of Tarsus wrote about in one of his letters to the church at Corinth. Yet we already have an abiding house not made with hands. It isn’t far off in some other dimension, but here and now.

We have trashed her, wounded her, desecrated her, yet in spite of all our walls and pavements, abuses, insults and depredations, Earth endures, ceaselessly renewing and sustaining, sheltering and inspiring. She is not defenseless, however, nor endlessly forgiving. We’d better learn to behave ourselves and cherish her life we share, before we find ourselves homeless in the dark.

Monday, May 21, 2018

One is enough...

One novel is enough for anyone to be writing. Only a fool would try to tackle two at once. And me. I didn’t plan it that way. I sort of ran out of gas on Wendl the Fallen, and was struggling along with it, writing a lot of words that I knew at the time were destined for the shredder, when a friend texted me the image of a photograph of George and Margaret, and I saw a story in it that was a pretty good fit for a couple of characters I’d already met in a soon-to-be published short story, so I let Wendl doze off and jumped on An Unaccustomed Music.

Just as I was getting into that one pretty well, Wendl woke up from his nap and had stuff he wanted to tell me. Wendl gets mornings and there’s …Music in the afternoons. Evenings, I read to my wife.