Author in Progress

 

It has been awhile since I've visited my little corner of the world here. I have been writing though. . . 90,106 words to be exact! Mid September an idea for a story was born at the cemetery of all places, while I was visiting my mom. I dutifully wrote 1,000+ words a day/three days a week until I had a complete manuscript I've named, The Cemetery Club. While it is a story about finding hope in the unlikeliest of places, it brought me hope during a difficult time. I firmly believe I sleptwalked through year one after losing my mom and brother twenty-four days apart. Simply writing twenty-four days does something to my heart. I still find it unbelieveable that I am living life without two of the largest personalities in my family. 

Year two feels more real, more raw. There is this realization that they are not coming back and getting lost in writing a fictional story helped me through the dark days. Stepping into my characters shoes and wiritng their stories gave me hope in living my own. Once upon a time, a really long time ago, I wanted to be a writer. I was even a Communications major before all the self doubt creeped in and I chose a safer option: a teacher. It is a noble profession, but not the dream I wore since childhood. I found ways to incorporate my passion for books and writing with my students, but I buried the dream I had for myself. In a world of many voices and storytellers, I let myself believe that mine wasn't good enough.

Something happened when I lost my mom and brother. All of a sudden the reality of the fragility of life was staring me in the face. Both my mom and brother lived their lives in a way that was bold and loud. They pursued their dreams. They didn't play it safe like I did. And suddenly, I craved that for my own life. I commited to myself to write the story. I am receiving coaching from a reputable, successful author.  I will be published. My mom and brother may not be here, but their untold stories will be my inspiration. In following my own childhood dream, perhaps I'll heal the parts of me that are broken as well. 

Stories are best when shared. I am grateful for the opportunity to share mine with you.