The first big piece of writing I ever did, if you don’t count my book report on Jefferson Davis in the fifth grade, was the term theme I wrote as a junior in high school.
The term theme, as it was called, was a major research paper over an American literary topic and it had to be between 20 and 25 pages long.
We all just about swallowed our tongues when we heard Mrs. Rowe say that.
It had to have an ungodly number of sources and everything had to be footnoted. (In the days before Microsoft Word did that for you automatically.)
That meant you had to turn your rough draft upside down and write out the footnote to see how much room you needed to leave at the bottom of your paper.
Of course, it had to be written out in longhand because most people didn’t have a typewriter.
At least we had progressed past ink wells.
I remember worrying about how I was going to fill up those twenty pages.
But it wasn’t long before I found myself scrunching up my handwriting, trying to keep from going over the page limit.
Seems I’ve never had as much trouble finding something to say as much as knowing when to shut up.
This past week I turned in the first rough draft of the book I’ve been working on for the last several months.
It was exhilarating and exhausting and a bit scary all at the same time.
The title is Loves God, Likes Girls – A Memoir. Hopefully it will help readers better understand what it’s like to grow up experiencing same-sex attraction while also being deeply committed to a most loving God. If it helps just one person – just one family – who’s wrestling with all of those questions feel less alone, well, then it will be worth it.
I’ll keep you posted on the progress – it’s due to be released at the Pepperdine Lectures next May and available to the public sometime next summer.
And in case you’re wondering, yes, I exceeded the page limits.
That’s what editors are for.