Awakening the Dawn--and a sneak peek.

You know me...I've never been a morning person. If I wake up before the alarm I consider myself severely chastised by God. Except this week something has begun to change. Monday I started a six week writing project, slow and steady wins the race. Daily word count that must be strictly adhered to in order to meet the goal and finish the experiment--Can I write the first draft with my heart and then go back with 10 days to spare before deadline and write with my head?
That's what Sean Connery's eccentric, writer character admonishes in Finding Forrester.
But I've never been that kind of writer. To me, three weeks before deadline is a good time for the frenzied fever writing to begin. But I am tired of the craze. Not meeting deadlines, lack of discipline or something crazy comes up like a kid gets sick or I do and my writing goes to heck for a few days.

This week has been awesome. Only, for some reason I started it at 3:30 am Monday morning instead of the 8am I planned. But I liked it. The next morning, same thing happened. Only one day this week have I not woken up at 3:30 and that was yesterday. Every day I've met the goal and every day I felt God smile at my obedience. Even yesterday when pushing through later in the day with more distractions. I wrote this last night. Anyone who has watched the night fall away from the woods over the river, specifically in the Ozarks, knows this picture well. For those who don't, I hope I've painted it for you here. My heroine is sitting on her porch waiting for the sun to come up:

From a new work tentatively titled ARE YOU THERE? To be released Spring 2012:

"The sun would rise behind the house and flash across the treeline where the haze rose from the river overnight, an ethereal fog like something out of a movie. The thick mist blanketing the trees would give up its hold on the ancient oaks and cedars as the sun burst through the morning. The breathtaking view never got old and I ached that I’d never share it with Jarrod in person. Two weeks ago—for me, the morning of the day he died, for him, the night before—we sat together with our computers and watched the sun rise across our trees and we both cried."