Thoughts on a Funeral

I stood beside the grave of a good man
And listened to the bugle’s cry.

Here was a noble life
Full of years and many friends,

And here we laid his body down.

At rest.
But not to sleep.

The part of him that lived
Lives on.

This is not a passing,
But a change.

There was no falling asleep,
But a final awaking.

Not a stumble,
But a swift step to Glory.


In memory of Charlie Mathews (1922-2014)


I know, I know.

I promised a follow-up NaNo post.

Didn’t happen.

I would love to say that I have been so involved in finishing my novel, that I haven’t had time for anything else.

But that didn’t happen either.

In fact, Christmas happened.

Then the sludge that is “Christmas Break Brain” set in, and I couldn’t even write a witty facebook update, much less a book (or a blog post).

So, the unfinished NaNo post has just been sitting on my desktop all this time – occasionally glaring at me for my neglect.


I’ll get to it. I promise.


In the meantime, there’s a new Doodle. Check it out.

NaNo Interlude

I took a brief pause in feeling like a heel for not getting any work done on my novel this week – and thereby pretty much ensuring that I wouldn’t meet my NaNo goal – to read a conversation between Nathan Bransford and Sarah McCarry.

The very last comment makes Sarah my favorite person:

Sarah: The best advice I can think of is…that the one thing everyone who finishes a book has in common is that they got it done. The circumstances of people’s lives are so different–I don’t think it’s useful to say “you must write for at least fifteen minutes every day” or “you must achieve a certain word count weekly”…Some people write a book in a year and some people take a decade, or their whole lives; some people write every day and some people don’t write at all for months. There’s no one right way to do it. I think the key is finding the story you want to tell, which no one else can do for you, and finding the best way to work with your own brain…

You can read the entire conversation here.

NaNo Day 19

We’ve reached that dark shadowy valley in our journey – that hollow full of cobwebs, where doubt lives and ideas come to die.

We’ve come to the slimy pool of reflection, where we realize that everyone else has about a gazillion more words than we do, and who do we think we are thinking we can write a book anyway?

We wonder if this book will ever be finished, and even if we do finish, we’re afraid it won’t matter. Because we’re pretty sure our book is just a pile of garbage.

We really wish we had more sleep.

Word Count: 11730

Feeling: Drained