Having just completed (walking) the Mini-Marathon last Saturday, I now feel that I am "in shape" to make my way down the Camino de Santiago in Spain . . . or at least the last 100 km. I'll be ready.
But I've also been in training, of sorts, as I've worked diligently on several projects . . . including writing the final touches on my book for InterVarsity Press, to be entitled The Seven Deadly Virtues. Readers can look for this one as we roll into 2017. Some months ago I also completed the 2nd book in a projected 12-book series of novels written under my nom de plume, R.L. Perry. This one, Bleak Midwinter, should be out this fall, with a third novel, Cold Snap, nipping at its heels.
I was also having a conversation with my wife, Becky, the other night (on those rare days when we actually talk) and noted that I seemed to be writing with some poetic interest these days. Or, at least I've had some success in recent months placing work in university journals and literary magazines. But I've also written some verse representative of my personal best, for which I'm grateful. And in between the flavorful poetic cookies, I sometimes manage to sandwich some lighter verse that my wife might actually read in her spare time (a commodity of which she has little as the school year winds down).
Anyway, thanks for reading . . . and I'll close by sharing this little piece of gray matter on a gray subject (parody courtesy of Robert Frost).
As hair succumbs to gray
So nothing dark can stay
And though her dye is power
It only stays an hour
As white trumps her brunette
Her roots cannot forget
That age will have its daySo nothing dark can stay