Writing Can Be Work or Be Patient, Little Boy

This is the first time I have asked God to help me in this particular endeavor. I don't recall ever asking for help in this particular area of my life: Lord, please help me finish my next book. I really did ask for it. I was that desperate.

My first book, "The Odyssey and the Idiot", is a non fiction work that encapsulates a journey I took with our kids, while searching for God and myself. Needless the say, the book flowed out of me. I was recounting actual events, working them into a narrative, tidying them up, editing and finishing. I was very happy with the result and it seems, I believe 100%, that all the folks who have read it are also very pleased. I have had no naysayers. How lucky is that?

The book I really wanted to do next will have to wait. It will involve travel and will involve money; more than I can spare right now. If it was 30 cents, it is more than I can spare right now. Let's be honest, our 401s look awful, the economy is tanking (as a result of bi-partisan efforts) and if one does not save every dime one can, then we risk the ceiling caving in on us.

Memo to our government: thanks for looking out for me, and thanks, as usual, for nothing (their usual MO). OK, I will gladly say you are keeping Islamic crazies from blowing up my street. For that, you are to be commended. And that is about it. We need leadership and example.

Boy, are we in trouble asking for that.

I have a friend who wants to be president and he wants me for Sec'y of State. Our collective policy will be to build a great wall around America, bring everyone home who belongs here, throw every out who doesn't and keep the nukes ready if anyone so much as looks at us funny. I am joking of course, but the whole exercise is indicative of our collective frustrations. Who isn't? The sense of disgust is palpable and everyone in gov't is to blame (except my wife, who works for them).

But the book I am half way done, and for which I asked for His help, is fiction, a romance story set against the Middle East (a place I know too well). It has flowed out of me, too, but not as easily. I don't enjoy reading fiction, so you can imagine the departure writing it is for me. When I mentioned to friends that I wrote the first book, the uniform response was: you wrote a book, about what? I told them briefly, though there is way too much to be rendered briefly. The book works on a lot of levels.

When I mention the second one, which will be called, "Fatien" "A girl, A Love and the Middle East", they actually get excited. Fiction appeals to people. I can't believe it, personally. If this one blows away the sales of the first or the planned third, it will prove to me that some people should not be allowed to vote. ..... Just kidding!!!! But it would be ironical if I got known for this new book vs my first or planned third. If I get on Oprah with it -- and this presupposes I would be able bite my tongue from saying to her what I would like too -- I would shake my head once again, seeing my plans and reality completely at odds yet again. What does age 53 really mean?: one rarely gets surprised by anyone or anything. Serves me right: I want to talk about God and folks want to hear about romance.

But maybe you should agree with this statement: when God wants readers to get my non fiction book(s) and be moved by them (hopefully), they will. It is just my anxiety to give a testimonial that is so important to me. When it is meant to happen, it will.

And why can't I just shut up and accept the divine plan for me? He must look at me sometimes and shake His own head. But, I love Him and trust He understands me. What more is there? If He loves me -- the complainer -- imagine how much He must love all of you, most of whom accept His plan and rarely ask for anything much.

And I want only a best seller...

One day I will learn. Starting now. I feel like people that Moses brought out of bondage -- slavery, mind you -- and they had the gaul to complain about the accommodations. Human nature hasn't changed much. How sad.

God Bless.
KJPrice

From Bad, Comes Good.

I got a call this morning that moved me: my dear friend asked me where my latest blog entry was?; the lady looks forward to them!

I couldn't believe it....

I haven't heard much about my blogging, so I thought, in most cases if not all cases, I effectively moved into the oblivion of blogdom. This is OK, sort of, because I want to have a small impact, but I guess I have to accept it if I don't.

It appears I don't. GREAT !!!! At least for one person. Like Jesus looking for that one lost sheep? I take this to mean, in my case, if one person takes time to listen, that is one person I did not share with before. Rome wasn't built in a day. I just want folks to think.

The primary reason I have not posted in about a month is due to illness. What great 5 to 6 weeks it has been. First, suspected cancer. Then biopsies of these areas (12). And not easy to get to, if you know what I mean. My friends kept asking me why I wasn't freaked out about the possibility of having cancer? I told them it was up to God, He had a plan, and that I not only have to accept the good He always does for me, but the possibly "not good" He may choose to do. The real issue is love for His choices for me. He has been 100% right, in all of them, my entire life. But I did ask my friends to stop asking me about freaking out, because if they kept asking me enough, I WAS GOING TO FREAK OUT !!!! I love ya, but stop reminding me. I gave it to God already. It is like ruminating over a sin, for which one has already been forgiven.

Then, just for kicks, I got a case of Shingles, which I diagnosed, after getting my medical degree off a box top. Turns out, I was right. I couldn't figure out why I was in such pain and for such a sustained period of time. Then the skin issues showed up (once again, me falling into the minority whose skin lesions show about 10 days late) and Dr. Keith "Medicine Man" made his extraordinary diagnosis. Now all I have to do is set out a shingle and start practicing.

I am truly sorry, I couldn't resist that one.

Then, I took my oldest to college and developed a viral infection of my sinuses. No, I am not making this up. Rather than let all these maladies get me down, I was still riding my requisite 9.5 miles daily on my bike when I noticed something. It kept getting longer and longer and longer to do the same thing. I would pick a point on the horizon and I swear it kept getting further and further and further away. I have had major surgeries, rode my bike and this didn't happen. Now, it was like I was climbing Everest with just my skivvies on.

After 6 weeks, I am just starting to feel like myself again. However, I am a "climber" when it comes to biking .... and I am dreading hills. No way !!! When that gets back to normal, looking forward to attacking hills, I will know I am back in the saddle again. It is happening, though slowly. I let some people pass me, and trust me, this is a new thing. And I hate it.

I am hoping that you, dear reader, may get some lesson out of this. I am not sure I have, except asking folks to stop asking me why I am not catatonic and should be. I say this in jest; the love for me is what counts.

As this was going on, someone told me I was one of the most grounded and good souled people they knew. I managed to put on a good face somehow, with the help of prayer. In "bad", comes "good". Think about it. I felt awful, privately, and someone still loved me. That's pretty darn nice. I also asked God to use my pain in any manner He saw fit. Maybe a soul got freed from bondage? Then it was all worth it. That would be a real gift. Can you imagine being able to do that??? I know it is possible, and I hope I did so.

God bless you.

K J Price