If I appear to drop off the grid during November, it’s because I’ll be busy writing a novella.
I’ll be participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month – during which novelists write 50,000 words in one month) and you can follow my progress, or maybe lack thereof, on the sidebar of this page where you will see my total word count.
Writing 50,000 words in one month breaks down to 1,667 words per day. The daily word count doesn’t scare me. What scares me is not having the plot line come together well enough to write 1,667 words per day.
I’ve participated in NaNoWriMo twice in the past and failed miserably – partially because I did not plan my plot or characters well enough and partially because I have a difficult time turning my internal editor off.
I don’t follow the standard writing advice that says to just crank out a first draft as quickly as possible and then go back and revise it. Whether I’m writing a book, a newspaper article or a blog post, I edit as I write, so by the time I finish my first draft, it’s probably a third or fourth draft. It works for me, and I learned long ago that you have to go with what works.
But for this book, I’m going to turn off my internal editor and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, I may end up only writing 25,000 words. That wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially given that I’ll be writing a novella. Either way, it’ll feel great to write fiction again. I’ve put it off for far too long.
One of the fun aspects of NaNoWriMo is the built-in community that is available both on and offline. In addition to online forums where writers can gather for support, the website lists various places to gather in your local community for “write-ins.”
Tonight, NaNoWriMo participants in my city will gather in a reserved room at Perkins for a write-in to socialize and then, at midnight, to stop the socializing so they can write. I imagine some will crank out two or three thousand words, which will give them a great head start. I’m contemplating attending this event. I’d love to wake up Saturday morning and know I’ve already written my 1,667 words.
If you are participating in NaNoWriMo this year, friend me on the official website and we’ll encourage each other throughout the month. If you are not, then please excuse me if I’m even slower than normal at returning email, phone calls, texts, etc.
Looking out my windshield at white puffy clouds, contrasted by a wide expansive blue sky as I made my way north on Highway 81 in Kansas yesterday, I considered something Alan Alda said in an iTunes “Meet the Author” podcast I was listening to.
He was talking about the power of now, in the context of his search for meaning. First he made reference to something Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote: “All we have is the present moment.” He connected that with something a neuroscientist told him recently: “Our experience of now only last about five seconds. We’re in now for just that long. And everything before that is a memory.”
Alda’s goal is to keep up with the now because he sees colors and hears sounds he wouldn’t otherwise notice. He sees multiple colors in a person’s face when he’s in the now – hints of blues, greens and browns. Presumably, he doesn’t just hear a conversational buzz when he’s in the now, but instead he hears every word, every syllable, every tone inflection.
For him, being fully present is the closest he believes he can come to finding meaning. While I disagree with his conclusion – I draw meaning from living for God, glorifying Him and enjoying his presence – Alda is on to something, especially in our present age in which it is common to see friends gathered around a table at Applebee’s, all of whom have their heads down texting other friends.
I tend to live two hours from now, or one day from now, thinking about everything I need to do, and I miss the leaves swirling toward the ground in my front yard. I miss two squirrels chasing each other. I miss the brief look of loneliness on a friend’s face.
The fifth chapter of Ephesians has been on my mind a lot lately. I may write more about that later, but in part, the apostle Paul said: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16 ESV). Some translations say “redeeming the time” rather than “making the best use of the time.”
The overall consensus regarding the meaning of this passage is, we should be more diligent about works directly related to the kingdom. I see the truth in that. But Matthew Henry goes a little deeper in his comments about this passage:
“It is a great part of Christian wisdom to redeem the time. Good Christians must be good husbands of their time, and take care to improve it to the best of purposes, by watching against temptations, by doing good while it is in the power of their hands, and by filling it up with proper employment – one special preservative from sin. They should make the best use they can of the present seasons of grace. Our time is a talent given us by God for some good end, and it is misspent and lost when it is not employed according to his design.”
I love this notion of making the best use of our time because our time is a season of grace. The five minutes you took to read this post was a season of grace, or five mini-seasons of grace. Being present in the now is so much better than being lost in the cares and concerns of tomorrow.
Spoiler alert: I will be referring to the end of the movie in this post, so proceed at your own risk.
“Gravity” is billed as a movie that will leave you thinking about it long after the credits roll.
For me, that turned out to be true.
But initially I was disappointed in the ending.
“It felt incomplete,” I told a friend on the way out of the theater. “The movie ends with Ryan’s (portrayed by Sandra Bullock) safe return home and that was compelling, but it should have gone on to show us what she did with her second chance. It needed to be 30 minutes longer.”
I wanted to know if she found a way to honor fellow astronaut Matt Kowalski (portrayed by George Clooney) for giving up his life for her. I wanted to know if she found hope after the death of her four-year old child. I wanted to know if she learned to reconnect with people rather than pulling away from them. I wanted to see hope.
Jesus showed us what redemption looks like.
He told us to turn the other cheek, and then did so as he was nailed to a cross. He told us to love our enemies and then forgave his own enemies as he hung on the cross. He told us that possessing great love means a willingness to lay down one’s life for his friends, and then he gave up his life for us while we were still lost in our sin.
Twenty-four hours after seeing “Gravity,” my mind drifted back to the scene in which Matt let go of the tether line so Ryan could live. It seemed liked an easy decision for him.
That’s when it hit me, I’d been focusing on the wrong portion of the movie.
As Matt drifted away from Ryan toward death, he wasn’t frantic or fearful. Instead, he spoke in a loving, controlled tone, walking Ryan through the various steps she would need to take to find safety. Once she grasped that, he took in the beauty of his surroundings. “Oh, you should see this,” he said, looking down at the earth shortly before he presumably died.
We never learned a lot about Matt. We did learn he was on his last mission and he had hopes of setting a new spacewalking record of sorts. But we didn’t learn a lot about his background. Instead, he was more focused on learning Ryan’s background – even before the crisis occurred. He was the veteran, she was the rookie, and as such she needed his calming presence, so he found ways to get her to talk about herself, even though she clearly wasn’t comfortable doing so.
That leads me, and maybe you, to consider how he got to the place in his life in which he was able to make the ultimate sacrifice, without any reservation, when the situation warranted it. Prompting such contemplation is the real power of the movie, in my opinion.
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