That's What Jenni Said

This year I have decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month ( NaNoWriMo ). The annual event occurs in November and the objective is to write a fiction work consisting of at least 50,000 words within the month. I have begun to brainstorm plot constructs and thinking that it’s best to start from a base of ‘what-you-know’ I have decided to write about a woman’s life that followed the alternative path to mine. Then I got stuck trying to decide where to veer my character’s life off the course of mine. To make the decision easier, I sat down and mapped out (in decision tree form) all the major life decision points I’ve gone through so I could play with alternative choices.  While I’m sure there is truth to the claim that even the tiniest inconsequential decision can alter our lives irreversibly, I wanted to focus on the major choose-your-own-adventure moments. Here is my tree. Here are over 30 decisions I made which changed my life. When I look back over these decisions I...

Publisher: Zondervan Author: Walter Wangerin Jr. Many Christian readers are already  familiar with the story of Naomi and Ruth. It's often touted as one of the most beautiful stories of friendship in the bible. The sad recounting of the Levite who gives over his wife to the sex crazed mob in the book of Judges to protect himself is also known to most readers although structurally these story lines are presented as unrelated in scripture. Wangerin weaves them together brilliantly in ‘Naomi and her Daughters’, providing a back story of events in Naomi's life that propel her and Ruth together on a journey to Bethlehem. Throughout the novel, Wangerin uses an italicized typeface whenever he directly quotes the bible. This is helpful for the reader to discern Wangerin's beautiful fictionalized embellishments from what's been lifted out of the Word of God "as-is". Fictionalized accounts of historical events prove justice to their story when they draw interest...

Genevieve had carried her deepest secret close to her for more than three decades, clutching it tightly in the same way reluctant mothers hold their boys going off to war. A small wooden handled mirror, she often gazed into it wide-eyed, her sense of wonder edged with revulsion. Usually she stepped through this ritual in the quiet hours just after dawn when the house itself seemed still to be sleeping. This morning was no different. She slipped out of bed and walked along the cold cherry planked floor to the side table against the opposite wall. Opening the center drawer, she removed the mirror and held her breath. She allowed her focus to move to the image in the mirror and she sighed, releasing her breath in a rush of moist air and lost hope. When she was six, Genevieve had turned to her mother and asked "Mother, am I beautiful? Do you love me mother?" This was because Genevieve had seen many faces on little girls and boys at school, but never her own. The world knew fe...