Saturday, March 4, 2017

Books Read In The Past Week

Books read for the first time are marked with a #
Books are listed by author (or series creator),
 and not necessarily in the order read.

"My Daily Spiritual Companion"
by Marci Alborghetti
daily devotional reading for 2017
I liked the book I used last year better.

"Olivia and the Little Way"
by Nancy Belanger
[children's fiction, Catholic]

(Kindle book)

"The Home Has A Heart"
by Thyra Ferre Bjorn
[Protestant nonfiction;  anecdotes, recipes]
(March chapter only)

( loan)
by Mary Christner Borntrager
[fiction,  Amish/Mennonite, "Ellie's People" series]

"Butter At The Old Price"
by Marguerite De Angeli

"All Because Of Raizy"
"Families,  Etc."
"Thanks To You!"
by Miriam L. Elias
[children's/young teen fiction, Jewish]

(in "A Classic Trio, 3-in-1, second volume)

"The Art Spirit"
by Robert Henri
(Kindle book)

"Who Is My Shelter?"
(Kindle book)
by Neta Jackson
[Protestant fiction, Yada Yada House of Hope series]

"Harold and the Purple Crayon"
by Crockett Johnson
[picture book]
( loan)

"A Candle In The Mist"
[children's/YA fiction, historical, 1870s]
by Florence Crannell Means

"Hannah and the Special 4th of July"
( loan)
"Roxie and the Red Rose Mystery"
"Kathy's New Brother"
"A Made-over Chelsea"
(physical copies)
by Hilda Stahl
[children's fiction, Christian, Protestant, denomination(s) not specified, series]

"The Interior Castle"
by St. Teresa of Jesus
[Catholic nonfiction]

Working on A Very Personal Fic

I'm working on a very personal piece of fan fiction right now.  It is based in part on several incidents from my childhood, but is set in the present.  I will also be adding some things that never actually happened, some words that were never really said.
I don't know how long it will take me to finish the story, because I've found that I have to work on it slowly; I can't handle too much of it at once. It's  like woodcarving, and I'm both the wood and the tools.
So why am I writing it?
Years ago, when I was a school girl being scolded and shamed in front of my classmates for things like poor handwriting, a part of me seemed to split away from the scene that was taking place.   I could see it as if it were happened to another person.  Yes, I'd be humiliated, and angry, and crying, and yet in a tiny corner of my mind, I was wondering how to write about it.