Wow! It's been a long time since I've posted anything to my blog. Shame on me! And I call myself a writer? Actually, writing is the reason that I've been absent in this forum. That NaNoWriMo contest I entered back in November gave birth to my novel, Born For Adversity. I finished the novel in January (and yes, I met the word count goal on time). Now I'm trying to figure out what to do next.
I just returned from my second time attending the Mount Hermon Christian Writer's conference. It was wonderful, of course. If only I could spend my life with other Christian writers. It would be a taste of heaven. My mind is spinning with the wealth of information from the workshops, and I've written my first book proposal. I think it's pretty bad, though. But it's on the page, so that's the first step. The highlight of my time at the conference was when my friend won the Writer of the Year award. (Waving to Donna!) It was such an emotional moment, and well deserved, regardless of what she thinks.
I tried shampooing my hair with shaving cream today. My mind was still on my book proposal, so it wasn't on purpose. But it's still funny.
I've grown as a writer this year. I can tell by looking back at my posts. I'm more comfortable with myself and less concerned with making my post read like an article. I can spend my life trying to impress a readership of zero (like this blog) or I can focus on obeying God, my only reader who gave His life to save me. Even if I had a million readers, it wouldn't matter. There's only one reader who ever matters. The really cool thing is that my experience at the conference was shared with a bunch of other writers who feel the same way. My roommate and I spent five minutes trying to spell commoradery for the evaluation form we filled out on the last day. Who knows if it's spelled right, but it's the right word to describe the connection between Christian writers. We're not in competition because we're all writing for an audience of One. The One who created us. The only One who matters. Our Lord Jesus.