I'm back...

I had one of the sickest Christmasses ever--hacking and wheezing my way through...ugh! I'm glad that's over. BUT...

I'm ready for the new year. I already have some 2006 writing goals and I've been fiddling with my website. I think 2006 will be the best year for me yet! Can't wait for it to start!

Here's my new goals:

1. To sub my novel.

2. To find an agent.

3. To write a new pb for Charlesbridge.

4. To write a new novel.

And if you want to take a peek at my website: www.pamcalvert.com

Happy New Year!

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Merry Christmas!

Over 700 years before the birth of Christ, a prophet named Isaiah had this to say:


"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel." Isaiah 7:14

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his
shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase in his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever." Isaiah 9:6-7

May the Prince of Peace be with you this Christmas and always...

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I survived...

Actually, the 17 mile run wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, so I'm feeling better about the marathon. But make no mistake--you have to endure pain if you're going to run over 10 miles. I got to a pain maximum at about mile 14 and 15--I couldn't keep going, surely? Tiny little knives shredded my joints with every step. But then something amazing happened!

I heard gunshots!

Yes. You guessed it. I was running in a backwoods area during hunting season. Pam. Bambi. What's the difference????

Adrenaline shot through my body and I sped up, running for my life!

BANG!

Pain? What pain? I ran faster and faster! But then I noticed where the shots were coming from--there was a shooting range on my right, shooting AWAY from me.

Whew.

But all that adrenaline cleared up my aching joints and I was able to glide home, making the 17 miles, effortlessly. Moral: Fear of your life helps running.

Maybe I should tell Runner's World?

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