Skip to main content

Fresh Starts


I was watching the television show Bones last night, and the main character Dr. Temperance Brennan (a nerdy, brainy forensic anthropologist) decides to start a Twitter feed to promote her book.

But - instead of posting light, fascinating brief comments, she makes obtuse references to scholarly articles. She ends up with 10 followers. Dismal. A failure.

So, at the advice of a colleague, she changes her approach. Light. Fun. Selfies.

Boom - 1,000 followers.

I laughed, because my own attempts at Twitter and social media self promotion are fairly dismal. It is hard to be that interesting all of the time. Or, that profound. Or, that anything.

Blogging is one of my favorite things - but it has lost its joy. It has become more of a duty than a love. It is like those diaries I had as a little girl - still have about five of them. I would fill out five days in a row and then...nothing. I would write "did not write" on each page until I gave up even doing that.

Consistency is not my thing.

So, I'm going to try an experiment. I'm going to blog every day for a month. Every day of April (starting today).

I'm going to just be honest - say what's happening - give one tiny observation - take a photo - pray with words about what's pressing on my heart.

I'm going to write about my walk on the beach and the amazing number of tiny shells that littered the sand.

I'm going to write about Easter and how I mourn not buying and filling and hiding baskets anymore.

I'm going to write about watching too much Netflix and saving myself with library books.

And, I'm not going to over think anything.

I'm not going to over analyze who is reading or why they would care about my random observations.

I'm just going to write to write and write some more.

I'm not doing it to increase my readership. I just want to rediscover my voice.

I'm going to start over.

I'm going to keep it simple.

All of April with no "did not write pages"... I pinky promise.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best

I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute. She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps. But I didn't really know much about her. As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up . I learned a bit more about her remarkable life: She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves. From an early age, she hungered for education. She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race. Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University. She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many African Am
3 comments
Read more

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side.   They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets.   The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night.   As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the
2 comments
Read more

Your Roots Are Showing

I'm older. I know that. But, honestly, I still feel pretty young. Well, most days at least Today I received a not-requested senior discount at Einstein Bagels. It appeared as a $1.03 credit on my receipt, along with the cheery explanation. And if other people don't tell me I'm older, my body definitely does. I traveled to and from Chicago last week with my daughter and her friend. Being the self sufficient woman I am, I helped the girls boost their luggage into the airline's overhead bin. Later that day, I felt my mistake. My back has not been happy ever since. I've been putting those sticky heat patches on it, Ben Gay rub, ice, heat wraps, you name it. And still when I turn incorrectly . . . ouch. There are other signs too. I wear glasses now . . . all the time. It started with readers, and then progressed to progressives. And I HAVE to color my hair now. Those pesky roots keep reappearing in an ever-shinier shade of silver. I (briefly) considered embr
6 comments
Read more