Thinking about writing.
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Category: The Horologion

Showing up.

show up for your work

It’s 5:00 a.m. on a Tuesday. It’s quiet here now. The remodeling next door went on until well past 10:00 last night. The barometric pressure is crashing so my ears are ringing and my skin feels itchy and raw. The Read more…


Good enough.

Do you work. It's good enough.

Yesterday was a bit of a rough day for me. I dove back into the edits of my fourth novel, the first in the Horologion series, and am posting it, chapter by chapter, on a critique group. So it’s not Read more…


Go make something. It’s good for you.

be creative

Nearly 7:00 a.m. in Lubbock, Texas. A chilly 29 degrees and it sure was hard to get out of my warm bed this morning, especially with one cat sleeping on my hip and the other one in the small of Read more…


Put on your (creative) habit.

Even nuns are creative.

Thinking about habit today: how hard it is to maintain a productive one and how easy it is to fall idle. It took all my willpower this morning to get out of bed. You’ve heard about my bed, right? It’s Read more…


Getting after it.

I started off Nanowrimo on November 1st this year with just an idea, though my main characters are ones that I have been friendly with through my last two books: the time-traveling monk and a bell that is a bit Read more…


Today, I am.

Photo of big Russian bell

Late in 2010, I finished writing my first novel. It was super religious (as was I, at the time) — pages and pages of Church history and people talking about theology. It was just a “light little mystery” and I Read more…


Befriend your demons.

Demons of self-doubt attacking.

The truth is that any demon honestly met becomes a friend, and our friends should be treated wisely if we wish them to remain our friends. Rolf Gates, Meditations from the Mat Today, my demon-friend self-doubt and I are going Read more…


The things inside.

Photo of nuns in Byzantine monastery

Eight years ago today, I slipped on the ice, fell, and hit my head on a curb. I woke up in the arms of one of the nuns I was living with, who was crying and saying, “Sister, wake up! Read more…