9th February 2019
Okay … let’s see if this old engine still runs. Going to have to drag it off the bench where it’s been left with some old tarpaulin for cover. It might have forgotten how to work but there’s still a veneer of fuel left in the tank, enough to pump through if we can find the little teat? They’re always hidden away in some crevice that you forget about. Best give a good few presses as well because that carburettor is not going to want to join in unless it really has no choice. All good? Then let us pray, then pull the cord.
So what’s it like to survive being born again to Christianity? Well, if that cord pulls true then we’ll know, but in the meantime I’ve got some field notes for you.
First of all you are going to love it. That’s good to know. The rest is just dealing with the severity of how you asked to be introduced to Jesus in the first place. I have already testified about this at my church so we don’t need to go over old ground. It’s all frozen over anyway, just like January likes it. For a gardener like me that presses you into ancillary occupation like painting a gun room in a scarlet red of the purest David Austin. Mostly it means clearing gutters without enough regard for the height of the ladder that you are on. During the autumn I was listening to Luke’s gospel through ear plugs with my ear defenders on over the top while hedge strimming up a ladder. I felt the presence of something then I can tell you.
While we are being positively biblical, I am certain that my favourite name in either testament is Zebedee. My fallback would be Melchizedek. Now what does this mean for writing my own words? It meant I had to have a break and learn what words mean again, that’s what. As you will ascertain by my efforts here, I am still learning. Of greater consequence than learning words will be what I want to do with them after I mistakenly think I’ve got to grips with them (about now). I wonder if I am I Christian writer or if I am a Christian who writes about The Christ? I have the rest of my time in the valley of death to explore this. There has already been some to and fro, some chapters, some whole new manuscripts just to grease the mechanisms. To be honest, it would have taken an act of God to divert me from my working on a first fantasy novel, Border Vaudeville, but as it happens …
And now as I am at the platform and preparing to wave away the finished copy of The Brine in Me to whatever tracks that decides to follow, I must admit that I am drawn back into the shifting tones of those characters that have filled both The Meifod Claw and The Brine. So help me, I believe that they are a canvas whose corners have yet to be filled.
So let’s see if that engine is good for turning over. Not on the first pull but that’s okay, that’s just to get some tension. Have another try. There you go. Now let’s start to apply some revs, no pun intended. My Rev’s a Pastor. Word up, Russell.
And you know the way to where I am going…
JW Bowe xx
If you enjoyed this blog, and you’re impatient for something else to read, feel free to bunch up close to a free sample chapter from JW Bowe’s debut novel, The Meifod Claw, which is available now at Amazon, iTunes and on various other international eReaders.
You can also double up your sampling by following this link to the forthcoming fictional autobiography of The Meifod Claw’s wheelchair-in-chief, Derek Gainsborough. His life and apologies will be released this year under the sail of The Brine in Me.
JW Bowe can also be unearthed on YouTube and in various other ways through the Serious Biscuits homepage. Scroll down for further links, action and disclaimers.
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