It feels like I’ve been incredibly busy the last few weeks, yet when I try to point to what I’ve achieved, there isn’t much there.
I’m doing a lot of research into a line I’d never considered targeting before, and feel as if I’ve come home.
Harlequin’s Love Inspired and Love Inspired Historical. The stories are wonderful - happy, uplifting, optimistic, a celebration of pure love. They remind me of the stories I loved as a girl, like LM Montgomery.These are the kind of stories I want to write. This is writing that feeds my soul.
God is gently guiding me back to the faith I chose in my teens, and lost for a while, stuck in my anger that certain things I wanted badly didn’t happen for me.
Coming back feels so good, so sweet, so right.
So, there’s a pitch contest on eHarlequin in May, and I have a story to write. Lots to research. It’s a historical, set in a time and place I thought I already knew a fair bit about, colonial Sydney. Except the first story in the series (my stories always want to be series!) is set on the convict ship sailing there. Oops! I know NOTHING about the day-to-day nitty gritty of life on thar four month voyage. Not enough about early Sydney, either, it turns out. So I’m researching and working on story development now, and will write the first draft in April (I’m doing Camp Nanowrimo- Autumn Mac there). it’s fun and I’m working hard but it feels like I have nothing to show for it, because where’s the word count? It will come!
I’ve been thinking a lot about giving, about how I can give more, to my husband, my family, my communities, and eventually my readers. I used measure my giving, keep a tally. I gave them this much and they gave me that much back. I realised, that’s not true giving. That’s just a transaction.
Today, I read a wonderful blog post by Kimberly Brock on Writer Unboxed.
I read it. And I’m thinking about how I can give, and what I can give. And I’ll let God surprise me with what I’m blessed with in return. maybe just the glow of giving. Maybe an unexpected gift, like the one Kim describes.
But I won’t be keeping a tally any more.