I am Meg Moseley. Meg, a writer. Seeking the real God in the real world.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Relief Journal is here

I was headed out for a trip to the library when I stopped at the mailbox and found my copy of the first issue of "Relief, A Quarterly Christian Expression." In other words, a Christian literary journal. I know one of the contributors in this issue, Mike Snyder, who's brilliant and funny. The treasure in my mailbox was almost enough to derail me from the trip to the library, but not quite.

I came home with a big variety of books, fiction and nonfiction, intending to haul a couple of them with me over Thanksgiving weekend when we'll be visiting relatives. I picked up The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King and White Doves at Morning by James Lee Burke. The rest of the pile is nonfiction, research for the final tweakings of the novel I'm revising.

Of course the first "Relief" is coming with me, too. I can't wait to get into it. I've always loved reading short stories and poetry, two art forms that aren't especially lucrative for publishers. Hats off to the "Relief" crew for starting this venture. And congrats to Mike for making it into the first issue. It'll be a collector's item one day when you're rich and famous.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I've been missing....

I woke this morning to strong winds and a beautiful sunrise, half over. I usually get up when it’s dark out, but I tend to miss the sunrise because I’ve got my nose to the laptop by then. So I went outside to see what I’d been missing.

A hawk was circling above the trees to the right of my yard with the sun lighting up the underside of his wings. As he made his big, wobbly circles, he wandered closer, eventually passing over me. He disappeared over the neighbor’s house, and about thirty small, dark birds with light bellies flew toward me. Juncos, maybe? The sun electrified their undersides and the borders of their wings. They came and went quickly, like a little flock of flying leaves. I would have missed them if I hadn’t been looking up at the hawk.

The sky changed colors quickly, and I got cold enough to come back inside. Now it’s overcast. The wind’s still shaking the trees. The cat’s sitting by the window, bird-watching in warmth and comfort. She has a good idea.