Just last week I was lost in a book. I just finished up a World War II novella in a collection I’m writing with Cara Putman and Sarah Sundin. (I’ll make sure to give you LOTS of details about the title and everything when it comes out next fall.)
It’s set around Christmas during WWII in Belgium. For many, many days Belgium was more real to me than the good ole’ USA. The year 1944 was tangible in my mind. My character’s burdens were heavy in my heart. I woke up thinking about field hospitals and hard winters, and I fell asleep doing the same. The problem, of course, is that I have a family still at home.
I have a husband, four children, and my grandma within my four walls. Dinner? Oh, I suppose I should think about that. Baths for the kids, hmm . . . yes, that’s important. Thankfully, I have a babysitter who comes and watches my little ones during the intense writing hours, otherwise I’m sure they’d completely rearrange the whole house while my mind is volleying between conversations with my characters.
Of course, I’m the same way when I read. Recently, I read Wings of Glass by Gina Holmes. I was so caught up with Penny that there were times when I was cooking dinner or folding laundry that I wanted to pick up my phone and call her up to check on her. Currently, I’m reading Fire by Night by Lynn Austin, and I itch to catch up with Phoebe and Julia like I itch for food around a mealtime.
When is the last time you’ve been lost in a book? You probably are right now. (In fact I’m honored that you’ve taken time to read this blog instead of that novel sitting by your side!)
Read the rest of this post on Writes of Passage!
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