A book in progress

A book in progress

Even if I only write three sentences a day, I’ll write.

When the stars align and the girls nap at the same time, I quickly pour the morning’s leftover coffee over ice, and try to work on my book. Did you know I’ve been working on a book? It’s been something I’ve been working on here and there (and then three months go by and I don’t touch it) and then here and there again for about the past three years. It’s a book in (slow, slow) progress. But hey, at least I’ve started! Right? I’m proud of myself for at least doing that much. I’ll give you a little sneak peek. Here are the first two sentences: I will never forget the first time I saw him. He was wearing work boots, a cowboy shirt complete with pearl buttons, and he was sitting in the corner of the room. Are you hooked now? Are you? Are you? The book’s about our lives. Or maybe I should say that it’s going to be. It’s a memoir of sorts. Man, it’s hard work. It’s hard because blogging is a sprint. You write it out, hit publish, and you’re done. A book is a marathon (say it slowly with me: m a r a t h o n). I’ve never been a marathon kind of girl (I’ve also never been one to use running analogies) because marathons take consistency and dedication. Perhaps those aren’t my strong suits. But this is something that I wanted to do. It’s also hard work because it’s mentally draining to go back in time and paint a word picture that helps you and me both relive details that happened many years ago. I’m currently writing about our military escort to the airport when we evacuated from Guinea. It’s been good and painful to go back into full detail to that time. It amazes me how many things I’ve completely forgotten about until I’ve stopped and let my mind wander back there. I’m at 33,012 words and am still at the very beginning of the story that makes us Shawn & Jenn. Maybe I’ll finish it one day, when I’m 90. Who knows. Until then, it’s a project that means something to me, so when the stars do align and the house is quiet, I’ll sit cuddled up in my fuzzy white blanket (because it’s 104 degrees outside and America has AC), and write. Even if I only write three sentences a day, I’ll write. I’ll let my mind wander back there, because it’s all part of the story. And it’s a story I don’t want to forget.

If you want an excerpt from my book, Venmo me $2 (hey, someone’s gotta pay for this iced coffee fuel!) j/k, just send me your email address.


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