I don't normally post reviews of things that aren't books. But, today I am. So feel free to scroll past if this isn't what you normally like to read. This post is for the writers and others who might be interested in the reMarkable tablet. 

As you can probably tell by my desk, I'm not really a gadgets person. But I was keen to try a reMarkable tablet as a tool to help with my creativity and thinking, especially as I do quite a bit of work in notebooks and on pieces of paper. As a writer I frequently print manuscripts off and work from them in the rewrite/edit process. I was hoping to cut down on my paper use while maintaining the paper-thinking experience. I also rely heavily on paper and pencil when working on picture books because these types of stories involve a lot of close work, and generally flow better when I'm not sitting at the computer. And I was interested in the ability to convert hand written notes, paragraphs or chapters into text I could email to myself and incorporate in an existing document. The reMarkable, at least in the reviews I'd read and their own website, seemed to appeal to all of these needs while also allowing me to stay as far away from traditional tablets (and their ever accumulating apps) as I could. 
​So I did my research. And some more research. I balked at the price for a long while, and then - when reMarkable recently changed the way it offers its services (it now uses a subscription method) - I balked again. But in the end I decided to take the plunge and order. 

When you order a reMarkable you have a few options. I went for the simple grey Book Folio cover (the super thin tablet clicks in place very securely) and the basic pen. I opted for the full Connect subscription to begin with, but if I find I'm not using everything I may drop down. I ordered on a Friday, the tablet arrived the following Monday! (I admit, I was VERY impressed by the delivery time.)

So, what do I think? Having only had my reMarkable tablet for just over a week, I probably don't know everything about it yet. I'm still learning. But... I'm loving it so far!
It feels great to write with. (Like, really great.) It has a legit paper-like experience: no glow, soft on the eyes, smooth writing experience etc. The ability to load PDFs from my computer/phone and then write all over them has been incredibly helpful as I plan for and attend meetings. I've also enjoyed it as a great journaling space and it's been excellent for keeping track of thoughts, my ever growing rewrite/edit task-lists and then free-writing when attempting to focus on a manuscript. I'm experimenting with the variety of templates and 'pens' and getting more familiar with what I like to use. There's even a few storyboard templates that will be great for picture book drafting.
Sure, it may not have all the whizz-bang features of a new ipad or something similar, but for me and what I was looking for, I'm really happy.

So what about any criticisms so far? Well, I do get worried I'll lose the marker pen. It snaps onto the side with a magnet but isn't enclosed in the Book Folio, so I feel like it might fall off! 
Some of the movements between PDFs and pages feel a little clunky and there is a lag as you 'turn the page', but if you are using the tablet to slow down - which I am as that's a critical part of my creative practice - it's not a problem. 
So far, the handwriting conversion isn't brilliant. I haven't played around this with aspect too much yet, but it does require my neater handwriting or quite a bit of manual editing (which I can do either on the tablet or on the computer once the content is there). I will have to wait and see whether this feature will be something I rely on heavily or not.

I read an article this morning as I was scanning the news. It was about the 3am issue. That unsettling time of night when we wake, all alone with the darkness and our thoughts, and face the hard truths of who we 'know' ourselves to be. 
It's at this time of night that our thoughts often spiral into negativity. We worry, we stress, we reimagine conversations and mistakes, and all the positive self talk we bolster ourselves up with during the day feels suddenly shallow and fake. 
3am isn't fun. 
But although I appreciated the author's helpful explanation of the reasons why we wake at this time, and why our thoughts so often turn negative, there was a line in his argument that I couldn't rest with. It was about the way our thoughts at 3am often turn in on ourselves and circle around the notion of ourselves. He said 'Buddhism has a strong position on this type of mental activity: the self is a fiction, and that fiction is the source of all distress.' Drawing on this idea he suggested mindful meditation as a way to deal with 3am stress. 
But here's my problem with this quick fix solution: those things that stir up at 3am? They are not based on fiction.
No matter how badly we may want to imagine our lives as being untrue, we live them day in and night out. We feel it, we breathe it, we ache, we break, we stuff up, we forgive and then realise we have to forgive all over again. The hurt circles, the blame lingers, the mess we've made of our lives rises up at 3am with stark ugly confidence and telling ourselves we aren't real? Nah. That takes far too much mindfulness for me to muster at that time of night. 
What I need is a God who will step into my darkness and hold those things I can't quite explain. I need a Saviour who sees my failing and still says I'm worth it. I need a deep, mystery of restoration that doesn't expect me to simply get through my heartbreaking 3ams, but joins me in them. Gently re-aligning my perspectives, giving me courage to try again and offering hope that something beautiful might come out of the garbage heap I've made of life. 
The only real answer to my 3am issue is Christ. Because even in the darkest parts of my night, he is light. 
And at 3am, when it's just me and my thoughts, that's the only thing worth ruminating on. 

(You can read Greg Murray's article here.)

Here's a book I'm currently recommending and looking forward to its release. It's called Destination Hope: A Travel Companion When Life Falls Apart and is by author team Marilyn Nutter and April White.
​I read this book as a pre-release because I put my hand up to be part of a book launch team. I'll admit, I was quite hesitant at first because I didn't know either author. But there was something about the book - Maybe it was the title? Maybe the cover illustration and the familiar pot-holed road? Maybe it was lockdown desperation? - Whatever it was I said yes. I downloaded the book to my phone and read it bit by bit over a couple of weeks. And I really enjoyed it.

The book is written in a gentle style. Short chapters interspersed with additional stories from a variety of women all facing grief of one kind or another. From the death of a spouse, to the loss of a child. Chronic health issues, the loss of friendship. Grief is tackled with honesty, encouragement and hope. There are also questions along the way to support reflection and helpful quotes and Bible verses. Tools to help and kind words to comfort are paired together. 
This isn't a heavy read. It's more like balm to the soul and would be useful for anyone, really. Because we all experience grief at some point and in some way in our lives, and we are all the friends that support others too.

Destination Hope: A Travel Companion When Life Falls Apart will be available for purchase from Koorong, ChristianBook.Com and Amazon from 28th September 2021. Well worth a read and a share.​ I've ordered myself a hard copy so I can do just that.  

There was once a farmer - check that.
Let's start again...

There was once a mum in lockdown who ordered garden seed - quite a few packets - for online delivery. She waited very (almost) patiently until eventually, the first packet of seed arrived.
Doing her best to fit planting between the COVID updates, she hurried outside to sow the seed. 
But she was too distracted by the news, and as she fumbled to check her phone, she dropped the seed along the path. That night, the possums and rats explored her new garden and snatched the seed away. 

The next day another packet of seed arrived.
This time, she tried to stay focused. She returned to the garden to plant the seed, but her mind was busy with COVID statistics, vaccination percentages and arguments for and against different types of freedom. The seed she held fell among the rocks. Without soil to sink it's roots into, the tender seedlings sprouted fast and wilted just as quickly. 

Luckily, several days later, another packet of seed arrived. 
This time the mum in lockdown pulled on her gardening socks and secured her hat. She gripped the seeds tightly and wandered into the garden. But as she looked around for the best place to plant, her mind was filled with a never-ending list of worries: from health to financial impact, career opportunities and mental health, forgotten friendships, strained relationships, loss of confidence, fear, stress, melancholy, depression... She froze. Her grip on the seed forgotten, they dropped to the earth where she stood. Locked down by her concerns and grief, the prickles and weeds began to grow around the seeds. The weeds blocked the sunlight. The prickles choked the growth. The seeds finally gave up trying and died. 

The weeks passed. She no longer counted how long it had been. The seed packets continued to arrive. Ignored. Unnoticed. Unopened.
Until one raining day, when cabin fever shook the lockdown home, the lockdown weary mum selected a single packet at random. She headed outside. She trudged to the garden bed. With rain dripping down her forehead and off the end of her nose, she dug into the soft waiting dirt. She placed the seeds down, one after the other, in repentance and sorrow and bone weary hope. Then she sat back on her heels and closed her eyes to the sky. 
The rain fell - as it does, on those who do evil and those who do good. It soaked the earth. It washed her face. It drew her to her feet and carried her inside to dry off. 

COVID continued. Lockdowns carried on. But outside, up in that garden, there now grew a field of flowers. Tall, glorious, fantastic and blossoming bright.
Hope with it's roots down deep despite it all.

Based on Jesus' Parable of the Sower in the Bible, Matthew 13: 18 - 23.

'Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.' - The Bible, Matthew chapter 6, verse 21

I read these words this morning. 
They are not new. They are Sunday School verses, these ones. Drilled into a good Christian kid. Repeated, reminded and diligently studied as an adult. 
But this morning they felt new. 
This morning they stood up quietly. Humbly. Like the child outside the principal's office, best work in hand, waiting for the prized Gold Sticker of recognition. 
This morning they spoke into the tumbled up space of my Greater Sydney Lockdown. 
Without blame or accusation they gently nudged my spirit and asked: Where is your treasure today?
And I came up blank. 
I know where it should be.
But have you noticed how lockdown shakes our priorities from the neatly arranged agendas we've set in place and tips everything out on the floor?
Our angst and worry, our frustration and boredom, they all reveal how we've propped our good and Godly sounding treasures with a plethora of other good and busy occupations. When it comes to weighing the daily 'I wish I could.... but lockdown won't let me' complaint against the the immovability of the gospel, we realise something. And it's not that startling, really. Somehow, in all the comfortable spaces we've lived in before now, we have unconsciously, thoughtlessly - accidentally even - replaced the treasures of Christ with lesser shiny things. And our hearts are struggling. 
Our hearts were meant to beat in time with that of the Almighty God. Our hearts were meant to seek and love and be sought and loved by Him. Our hearts were meant to walk in adventurous trust in His Spirit and His Son. This is where our heart longs to be. 
Lockdown strips back the clutter. It turns down the noise - if we let it - and our hearts are shown to beat for the treasures we've collected, whatever they may be. 
Where is your treasure today? 
The question remains hanging and my heart nudges me to respond. I wonder whether I'll let these words into my lockdown, offer them a seat and give them that Gold Sticker for work well done?