Ok, not really. I'm a very bad Catholic, and I haven't really thought of Lent since my girls were little and I use to drop them off at school in their little pleated skirts to do the stations of the cross each morning. It's just something I say, flippantly, when I've been buried in my writing and come up for air and realize I haven't a clue what's going on in the world today. It's hard to explain the writing thing, how myopic you get, and I'm sort of expected to know what's going on in the world.
What in the wide, wide world of sports happened to the world while I was slowly forcing Chrissie Parker through events in book 3 that she probably didn't want to go through. The news of the day is so grim and the world such a confusing place. How can anyone wonder that I prefer to spend my leisure time writing romance?
Book four starts with a short Chrissie narrative that so fits me(I wonder if that's where she got it?) since her story is really over by then and it is now Alan's turn to explain a few things: "The older I get the less I feel a part of my own story. I watch more sunrises and I stir the pot less. I’ve learned that things happen around me, because of me, and to me, and there is not much you can do or really any true understanding of which kind of event each is. So this is what I think happened. I don’t really know for sure. I pieced it together from things I was told and it is peaceful to be in that place where the most significant parts of your life are not the parts you actively live. They are the parts shared with you, the part of others you try to mend, the moments you are no part of, and yet the catalyst for them to have been. I don’t really know what happened. I sit back in the quiet and I let life, even my own, happen around me, where it is more comfortable to be less part of my own story."
Still 99 cents today The Girl on the Half Shell
What in the wide, wide world of sports happened to the world while I was slowly forcing Chrissie Parker through events in book 3 that she probably didn't want to go through. The news of the day is so grim and the world such a confusing place. How can anyone wonder that I prefer to spend my leisure time writing romance?
Book four starts with a short Chrissie narrative that so fits me(I wonder if that's where she got it?) since her story is really over by then and it is now Alan's turn to explain a few things: "The older I get the less I feel a part of my own story. I watch more sunrises and I stir the pot less. I’ve learned that things happen around me, because of me, and to me, and there is not much you can do or really any true understanding of which kind of event each is. So this is what I think happened. I don’t really know for sure. I pieced it together from things I was told and it is peaceful to be in that place where the most significant parts of your life are not the parts you actively live. They are the parts shared with you, the part of others you try to mend, the moments you are no part of, and yet the catalyst for them to have been. I don’t really know what happened. I sit back in the quiet and I let life, even my own, happen around me, where it is more comfortable to be less part of my own story."
Still 99 cents today The Girl on the Half Shell
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