“In fact, while we read a novel, we are insane— bonkers. We believe in the existence of people who aren’t there, we hear their voices, we watch the battle of Borodino with them, we may even become Napoleon. Sanity returns (in most cases) when the book is closed.”
-Ursula K. LeGuin
If reading is insane, then certainly the act of producing a vessel that encourages insanity must be equally deranged. In that case, let me be the first to welcome you to the crazy show. The show usually consists of me, three or four notebooks of hastily scribbled ideas, a computer, twelve topic-appropriate library books, and enough green tea to make Costco blush.
Why tea?If reading is insane, then certainly the act of producing a vessel that encourages insanity must be equally deranged. In that case, let me be the first to welcome you to the crazy show. Click To Tweet
I’m glad you asked. I thought about that the other day when I met my wife for lunch at Starbucks. I was peeling a hardboiled egg and watching the rain come down in endless puddle-growing drops when I thought, “Why did I start drinking so much green tea?” Don’t tell my mom this, but it wasn’t because she called me the other day and told me about the health benefits of consuming 400 cups of matcha a day, or whatever- I doubt seriously that much of anything is good for you. Wait… speaking of good for you, what do my kidneys look like? Are they on the ragged edge of performance, stained the color of grass because of their owner’s affinity for Asian beverages? Who knows?
Anyway, a quick survey of the menu gave me my answer: hot tea is the cheapest thing at Starbucks. Period. Throw in a gold card that gives you free refills, and, as a writer, you can spend just a shade under $3 a day with free refills for as long as you stay. It’s not a bad racket, and they even let you bring Tupperware full of quinoa and baby kale to snack on. But, even $3 a day adds up, especially when your lovely wife is the one who goes to work every day so that you have the freedom to test the limits of Starbucks’ refill policy in the first place.
So, I started typing at home. Come to find out, for $12 at Costco, you can purchase three months’ worth of green tea. Take that, Bucky-Bucks!
Though, to be fair, the irony of typing that is as thick as a Mega Stuffed Oreo.
There has to be a better comparison than an over flavored sugar-puck. Let’s see… as thick as a bear’s pelt? No. No one knows what a pelt is, and even if they do, “pelt” reminds me of pellets, which remind me of rabbit droppings, which remind me of my stepsister’s pet bunny that I think would make a fantastic Russian hat, which reminds me that I’m really not that great of a brother and that she might secretly be scarred because I always call her pet “Shopka.” ANYWAY, the irony is thick because I’m typing at Starbucks.
Yes, right this second, I am sitting watching someone masticate a breakfast sandwich that began its life in an assembly line somewhere far from here. I confess it. I spent the money. I have tea bags waiting for me at home, all lonely and anxious to enjoy their first and only bath. It was me! I wasted money and I didn’t have to. But, like any sinful human, I have excuses, (read the next part out loud without taking a breath… ready?) deep breath: I’m waiting for the library to open and I needed the internet to research what a good query letter looks like because I finished my fantasy book about foxes (ish the ending is rubbish, but hey, I’m not afraid to fail) and I want to get published so I can take my loving wife to Japan so we can eat sushi and say OH-HI-OH and bow to everyone we see, but all of that takes the internet, so here I am. Did you do it? Did you read it in one breath? You should try… it’s really fun.
So, there you are, for the four people who read this wonderful blog. There is your update. Okay, fine, here is your real update.
I decided not to publish my first draft of Flirting With Hell because it’s not the book I needed to write. The project was like a sailboat driven along by too much wind. It wouldn’t steer where I wanted it to. I’ll revisit it though. It’s an important book about a topic that swallows more people every single day. As I continue to grow as a writer I keep thinking of new ways to tell that first story. God-willing, it will happen.
Until then, I’ve been spending my days writing a YA Fantasy novel about foxes. I wanted to write a story that the kids in my neighborhood would be excited to read, but more importantly, I wanted it to be a story about God. It’s a daunting task, but it’s one, I feel, that I was born for. I wake up every single day excited and humbled to be working on it.
That’s because it’s not work. You just pal around with your imaginary friends and waste time.I wanted to write a story that the kids in my neighborhood would be excited to read, but more importantly, I wanted it to be a story about God. Click To Tweet
Shush, voice of doubt. No one likes you.
Until next time, let’s lose our lives! That might mean sending a text to your spouse telling them that you’re praying for them or praising God for a flat tire, or, writing a fantasy novel where kids can run into an amazing God… the God of the Bible. What does that look like for you today? For his glory, let’s do it!