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Monday, March 26, 2018

#AmReading Should Be #AmWriting

My work-in-progress, NUMBERS NEVER LIE, a romantic suspense is coming along well. I'd tell you to look to the right to see my progress, but something screwy happened to my site. This morning, the widgets (with percentage of progress) were gone and those weird "things" in their place. If anyone knows how to fix this, please tell me.

As I started to say, I'm in the last 18% of my WIP. Not celebrating yet, but the end is near. In fact, I've already written the end (15 years ago), but it's quite sketchy. That's where the last 13,000 words come in. My plan is to have it finished by Sunday. Come back for next Monday where I'll announce that I finished . . . or not.

As the title of this post says, I've been reading instead of writing for the past several days. Why, when I'm so close to the end? Tomorrow is book group, and I hadn't read the book. Not because of procrastination, mind you. I was waiting for my turn to borrow the ebook from the library. On Friday, I checked, and there's still three people ahead of me. I broke down and bought the book, Same Kind of Different As Me.

I was in such a hurry to read the book, I didn't take time to note the authors. And because I like to read a book without prejudice, I didn't read reviews or even the blurb. I assumed the story was fiction (don't ask why). When I got to a particularly heart-wrenching segment, I thought, wow, this author must have gone through something similar to write so vividly. Duh. It wasn't fiction. It was a true story. I almost feel ridiculous admitting this. (That's what happens when I'm in a hurry.)

Same Kind of Different As Me (if you aren't familiar with the book or movie) is the story of two men and the woman who brought them together and bound them to each other. Ron Hall and Denver Moore were two men who should never have met, except for Ron's wife Deborah. Wealthy--really wealthy--the Texas Halls had everything they could ever want. Denver grew up an extremely poor Louisiana sharecropper, spent time in prison, and was homeless most of his life. The book reveals how those two men met and changed each other's lives.

Some people believe strongly in sharing their religious beliefs. For me, religion is a private thing, so I'm uncomfortable around evangelizers. Too often, those people spout the Bible, but their actions say just the opposite. Not Deborah Hall. One day, she decided that they should volunteer at a homeless shelter one day a week, where they became known as Mr. & Mrs. Tuesday. These do-gooders were regarded with suspicions, like the people who only came on holidays then disappeared the rest of the year. Over nine years, the Halls influenced many people by their example of doing God's work. The one person they had the most influence over was Denver Moore. At sixty, he'd seen a lot of trouble, some of his own making. More suspicious than most, he resisted their caring, assuming they were talk only. How the three became friends, family even, is a powerful story.

Book groups have always "forced" me to read outside my comfort zone. I love fiction. I write fiction. But book groups have introduced me to new authors, new genres. I've never found true stories, especially triumph over adversity, of particular interest. I wouldn't have chosen Same Kind of Different As Me to read. I'm glad I did. There should be a lively discussion tomorrow night. I'll add a comment about that.


  1. Aw, too bad about your widgets, frustrating I'm sure!

    I know what you mean about reading things that aren't what you'd normally choose. I "had" to read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Life Is So Good, and The Shallows. I am so grateful these three books came into my life.

    Good luck with the last 18 percent!

    1. Thanks, Priscilla. I don't know the books you mentioned, but if you're grateful to have read them I'll check them out.

  2. Good luck with your WIP. The last chapters can be an effort but so much fun!
    I often read without looking at blurbs or reviews. I want to get my own impression, not someone else's.


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