Many late-night revisions occurred at Coffee Underground. Thanks, Donna, for the refills!
Going to a U2 concert with missionaries was a real hoot!
And to my friends and small group at Grace Church ... your prayers fuel my writing.
Singing to the lobsters happens frequently on Friday nights in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina.
Armed with the knowledge that his second grade teacher always liked his stories and poems, Ray Blackston of Greenville, South Carolina, departed the field of finance. He simply walked away from the corporate cubicle, bought a laptop, said a prayer, and began typing the first words of Flabbergasted.
He does not recommend this method for the faint of heart.
You can read more of the background of Flabbergasted at Ray's website: www.rayblackston.com. For instance, Ray's grandfather, the late Reverend A. F. Smoak, was pastor of Pawleys Island Baptist Church.
"Thank you, reader, for turning the pages of Flabbergasted."
My name is Beatrice, and in Ray's story I was the one who ... who ... oh, dear me ... I forget what I did, but I'm sure I was in there somewhere ...
Flabbergasted: A Novel Page 30
