Busy

You can tell when I’m working hard because I don’t take time to keep up my journal postings.

Time and space constraints have pushed me into 18-hour days recently as I’ve tried to reduce a 583 page manuscript to under 400 pages. Don’t think I’m going to make that goal.

I quit editing last night at page 299 and I still have miles to go.

The printer’s protocols dictate that if a book has more than 400 pages, it has to be bound as a hard back. That would bump the price up significantly and I want to avoid that. I want to make my books as inexpensive as possible.

I’m toying with a marketing idea which would give poor people better access to my work. We’ll see what happens.

For pleasure, I’ve been reading Nobel Prize winning author Albert Camus. He struggles with the question of how a loving God could allow an innocent child to suffer with a horrible disease.

Camus does not appear satisfied with his own ideas, which essentially lead to hopeless despair.

Poor bastard.

My favorite Camus quote:

“It is forbidden to spit on cats during plague time”.

See. The man's not all wrong.

Jesus is Lord of even the busiest days. His love hovers over my shoulder even while I’ve got my nose buried in the project thinking nothing, seeing nothing but the words right before my eyes on the computer screen.

Speaking of eyes:

Yesterday I grabbed a jar of applesauce out of the frig to go on my breakfast toast; when I went to spread it, I discovered that I’d pulled out a jar of sauerkraut!

This is not recommended.