Post the last paragraph of what you've written TODAY

Pat, yours is so deep. Mine, OTOH, is the tail end of a disaster, and my MC just blew up, startled her boss, and has the secretary rapt with attention just outside the door:

God, she was tired. Too many nights of sleeping in snatches between rape nightmares, photograph nightmares, homeless nightmares. If the landlord evicted her when she lost this job, would she sleep better under the Delaware Street bridge? Was the convent really worse than all this?

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Pat, yours reminded me so much of de Caussade (which I saw you mentioned in another post). Self-abandonment is scary freedom.

Lily, that paragraph is astounding. I guess you don't have my problem of thinking up ideas and conflict to drive a story. Great paragraph.

As for me, I can't copy in my last paragraph since it's my Christian writing contest essay. Yep, I'm biting the bullet and PMing it to Pat -- just as soon as I check its formating.

Biblical Fiction:

“I require only two slaves, which I already have.”
“I beg of you, do not let him be sold to others who will further abuse him. It is not just.”
“Just? There is no such thing with a slave.”
Marcus’ chin dropped to his chest. “Is there nothing I can do that will convince you to ransom him?”
“As I said, I require only two slaves. If it of such importance to you that he be my apprentice, we shall negotiate a trade. He will become my slave and you will take his place on the block.

“Do you know if you were ever baptized?” Gary asked as Theodore took a small sip.
“Yeah. Auntie Mae had me baptized when I was small.”
“Do you know what church you were baptized at?”
Theodore nodded. “It was an old Church of God in Hyde Park, but I don’t think it’s there no mo.”
Pastor Meyersen smiled. “That’s all right. The Holy Spirit has completed what was done with water long ago. God has honored your baptism.”
Theodore furrowed his brow and looked hard at pastor Meyersen. “Don’t I need to be baptized again in your church? That baptism din’t mean nuthin’ to me.”
“It meant something to God. Every baptism is a sign of God’s work. Just because it took many years for the Spirit to bear that fruit in you doesn’t mean it is invalid. He finished the work your Auntie began.”


Theognome

Pat - That's so funny you mentioned Thomas Merton! My favorite prof in college was seriously into him. Wrote a couple of books about him, too. So far I haven't read any of his Thomas Merton books, but I plan to get around to it eventually.

windyrdg, now that's conflict! I'd turn that page.

Pat, I read maybe one nonfic book a year, and that about writing, so I'm completely unqualified to comment on your voice. Do you have a beta?

A troubled man finds himself and a miracle in the desert of Zin at a place called Meriba, The Waters of Strife. BTW Jan is Dutch for John.

"Jan found Amal waiting beside the car. He had no idea how long his visit to the monastery had been.
“Amal? You waited here all this time? You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
Jan’s words puzzled Amal. Of course he had waited for the strange foreigner. How could he leave him alone at an abandoned monastery in the middle of the desert? He squinted and looked up at the ruins of the once-famous church. All that remained of it, and the intricate mosaics that once covered its walls, was a wasted shell of rubble. Amal scratched his head and wondered why the young stranger came to a place no one cared about anymore.
Jan opened the car door and looked around one last time.
“Where shall I take you now Effendi?” Amal said.
“Take me home Amal.”
Amal bowed and smiled. “As you wish Effendi, as you wish.”
Jan leaned back in the dusty seat. Rather than coughing and sputtering, as it usually did, the old car’s overworked engine sprang to life with a lost vigor.
“It’s a miracle!” Amal said.
Jan gave Amal a wink, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and fell at last into an untroubled sleep."

I've been editing my novel, so haven't written any new prose. But some time ago I began working on a sonnet, wrote a line or two, put it aside, and never came back to it. Today I finished the first draft of the first stanza.

Of Bollards and Berms

I sunk my bollards deep, to solid rock,
a barricade both visible and stout,
then linked them all with chains and double locks,
to close me in, and keep the temptress out.

Well, I suppose I could. I'm at work and I'm developing technical specifications for an integrated intelligence and planning tool set. I'm on page 180 of the concept development document. It's really quite exciting...

...naw. Better wait til I get home.

You mean y'all don't want to read the symptoms of HIV-related Dementia? Or Oral Hairy Leukoplakia?

Oh, fine. BruceJ and I will have loads of fun on our technical water slides. You'll just have to wonder. So there, nyaah.

callalily61 said:

You mean y'all don't want to read the symptoms of HIV-related Dementia? Or Oral Hairy Leukoplakia?

Oh, fine. BruceJ and I will have loads of fun on our technical water slides. You'll just have to wonder. So there, nyaah.

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Yeah! C'mon, Calla. I'll race you to the nearest wave pool...for a fluid dynamics study, of course.

Last one in is a rotten... experimental drug!

(Okay, way too much work on the brain now. Think I'll go throw some more rocks at my MC.)

Pat~ said:

Yes, I'm a nonfiction reader, too.

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Other than that, you seem fairly normal, Pat.