Heard a report this morning that novelist T. Davis Bunn was bitten by a shark. Shudder. Davis lives part of the year on Florida’s east coast, near where I grew up, so I know about those waves and those particular beasties. I checked the online versions of that local paper but found no news, but it’s unlikely we’d have heard that story unless it was true. So we’ll remember to pray for him. (We like to tease Davis and say that the T. in his name stands for “the.” I have no idea what it really stands for!)
Update: the story has been confirmed. The accident apparently happened Wednesday. Davis required 100 stitches in one leg and 20 in the other, and had to have a skin graft. He’s in good spirits and recuperating . . . and joking about how writers will do anything for publicity. Ha! I don’t think I’d go that far . . . Pray for Davis’s speedy recovery!
Spent most of yesterday reading books about the funeral industry and embalming–still have several books I need to get through before I start outlining the WIP. Am also dealing with the three day migraine–fortunately, it leaves me during most of the work day, and resurfaces in the middle of the night.
The fellow who led my husband to the Lord more than 30 years ago is coming to town today, so we’re going out to lunch. That will be a nice visit–we don’t often get to see Mike Walker, though he does speak at our summer camps every other year or so.
My book club meets Monday night, which means I have to get busy reading THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES, our book for the month. I’ve read the first chapter, which assured me the writing was exquisite, now I have to read the rest of the story.