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| Van Eyck, "The Rolin Madonna" |
Perhaps I had grown tired of it. Perhaps I had lost the handle on why I was doing it. Along those lines, as I restart it, at least for this morning, here’s the question—why am I restarting it?
Two reasons present themselves quickly: get that book out; keep that brain sharp.
Regarding the first, this also is the more painful reason. Painful because I’ve never written a book before. I have only submitted academic papers as a part of course work. I’ve written one or two articles for the smallest of publications—and I mean the smallest (does the diocesan vocations promotions society count?). So all the work, especially formatting, but also just seeing the project through is going to seem quite daunting. I should go easy, then, on my dad whom we’ve been hounding for years to finish his book.
Regarding the second, at 158-words, I can notice a bit of an effect already this morning, in terms of rousing the mental software out of it’s early morning sluggishness. Today’s Tuesday, I’ll need my brain shortly for two separate homilies over the next four hours. I can’t be forgetful or approach those tasks drowsily.There are other reasons which I’ll possibly get to another time—I’ve reached my word-count.
