Faulty Hardware

My alarm clock did not go off this morning. Like many other things, the realization that one has lost forty minutes, that the morning routine is shot, will monkey with the best established pattern. So no dream recollections this morning.

I'm about a hundred and twenty pages away from finishing David Tracy's book. In his last section he's going to bring his concept of genre as productive rather than simply taxonomical to bear on Christology. I think that genre concept is definitely going to play a role in my book on prayer. Speaking of which, I've got rough outlines laid out for all nine chapters now, so I suppose I can say that I know basically what the book is going to be about. Assuming that I can be disciplined enough to write a few pages a week, I could potentially have proposals sent to publishers by February or March. I'm not sure that anyone will be interested, but I suppose that's just one of the risks that goes along with spending the time to write a book.