11/14/2015

open the file

My father-in-law bought me a laptop. I've said I'd never own one, because I wished to leave the demanding internet at home. But I'm not complaining now.

I'm actually learning that having the laptop close by -- at the kitchen table, or, like this past week, with me while keeping my mother-in-law company -- I am given many more chances to work on my memoir. It's easy to open the file, since it's right there. The internet commands my attention sometimes, but it gets old fast, and anyway I'm kind of on a writing roll. Whoop.

A year ago I attended Bob Welch's writing workshop and found a focus for my book. My three words stating this focus became "My theology changed." Which has happened throughout my life and in a fairly dramatic way in 2011. But the problem, I realized as I wrote about it, involved interest. Who, besides me, might care that my theology changed? A better aspect of the subject could possibly be my expression of why my theology changed. Especially when it was likely to provide echoes of others' experiences. A lot of people in our culture have recognized within themselves soul quakes, the shifting of their understanding. This has led many to leave traditional churches. This, I'm thinking, is the meat of the story of my faith journey.


I stayed with my mother-in-law this week and was startled by early morning quackings of mallards. They happily promenaded in the rain; I happily clicked my keyboard. In fact, a few times I meant to do other work but was compelled by the urge to open the file, so I did. Now my first chapter is completed. Not finished, of course -- not reworked and polished and mulled over ad nauseum -- and chapter two is in tatters, but the first one sounds pretty good.

I would so like to accomplish this effort. Especially when we're threatened with collection agencies by medical groups (we've also had people give us money to help pay bills, bless their hearts), but, hey, this is good impetus to sit down once again and open the file.

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