Alright, off my soapbox.
And then there was the explosion in Texas. Wow. These events make the overabundance of rain in my part of the country seem trivial. And in true Illinois fashion, after the five inches of rain, we got snow (just a trace, thank heaven). We were out today and the Fox River near where I live has lost track of its banks, but the sun is shining, a reminder that it's a new day, a new beginning. Prayers go out to all the people impacted by these disasters in hopes that they can find a new beginning, a place to start over.
And speaking of starting over, I'm eight chapters into the new book when one of my beta readers
|Flora and the Zephyrs - John William Waterhouse|
My friend's observation highlighted another similarity in some of my stories, which did make me stop and consider whether I should start over or continue along the path I'd begun. Writer's angst is common and to be expected, although generally not this early on in a novel.
Maybe a new beginning isn't what we need. Maybe what we need to do is carry on, through the potholes in life, through the horror and the pain. Starting over discounts all the trials and victories we have already conquered. So while I continue with my work, I am reminded that we can find strength in the things that have happened in our lives and as dark a day as we've had to contemplate, I have faith that there are brighter days ahead to chase the gloom away.