Sometimes I get a single thought in my head and I want to write an entire book around it. For example, and maybe I’ve said this before, I want to write a book about the Christian body that addresses dieting and include something along the lines of, “Who hasn’t eaten a runny egg in the hopes of maybe leaving a few calories on the plate? Even if will power doesn’t actually let you?”
Is that worth a book? No! Goodness. Mercy. No! And yet . . . part of me totally thinks I should write a book about the body. Bring theology to the middle aged women of us who are subliminally burdened from every direction. Isn’t that desperately needed?
I want to write about how husbands really do love the bodies of their wives, even despite their wives’ frustration toward their bodies. I want to explore whether marriage or privacy are spaces of refuge & restoration for us.
I want to write about how looks and even body functions are supposed to change. There is no shame in menopause, because women are not, in fact, only valuable as baby-makers, eye candy, or any similarly narrow caricature.
But who has time to write that book?! Moreover, who has time to research for that book? You know that super great book Kleinig just put out? That I’ve been anxiously waiting for & have now had a for a while? Maybe Wonderfully Made is already the answer to my prayers! Except I haven’t found the time to even crack open the cover! Alas!
(I first wrote, “Gah!” but is that a shortened form for God? Have I been using the term in vain? Ugh!)
Research, like writing reviews, takes a certain mindset. I don’t know why it’s so hard to keep & maintain that mindset! Research, more than time constraints, is what’s holding me back. I should be woman enough to admit that.