Gift

This is a story about a gift, a gift given without knowing it was important, a gift passed on freely with compassion and love. The gift was given to me by my dear friend Doris (not her real name). It wasn’t big. Its size took up no space in my house. Yet it was so huge I couldn’t wrap my head around it. She passed on a detail, vivid, blue in all its emotions, a detail that would work under my skin and allow part of me to break open. These are the gifts of friendship.

Early Sunday morning, a mutual friend finally lost her battle with cancer. But those words sound so insignificant, useless, because they paint a picture that is not true to the situation. Yes this fine woman had cancer, and yes it took her life. But did it? Did it take this woman’s life? I think not because cancer cannot take something like a life. No, a life is built of stronger stuff than mere tissue, blood, and a beating heart. Life is something that lives long after we mere humans leave.

Doris was there when our mutual friend died. Was it courage that brought her to the deathbed of her lifelong friend? No—even though she is one of the most courageous women I know. And like most of us, she has fears a plenty. What led her to be in this place at that time was love. Deep love for a good friend. You know the kind. It mostly exists between girlfriends. On some days these two women could pull each other’s hair out with irritation, but—and here’s the important part—on most days they could put disagreements behind them and laugh. You know the kind of laugh, that deep down belly laugh. These two women knew how to be friends.

Only a few years earlier, Doris was in the shoes of her friend. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. She fought her way through this experience and when she came out on the other side it was with a new sense of purpose. She would use this chapter in her life. How she wasn’t sure. Was it a book? Maybe. Was it counseling other breast cancer patients? Possibly.

Little did she know that she would walk her best friend to the edge of their world and watch her leave. This constitutes a courageous act to me, and I’m blessed to have witnessed it. This detail of love and heartfelt compassion gave me renewed faith in this world, in life, in knowing that someday we all face that place, that tiny detail: do I see this all the way through, or do I stop? My answer will be drawn from example.

Christina Baldwin opens her book Storycathers with this sentence. “Every person is born into life as a blank page—and every person leaves life a full book.”

Doris, you will have several volumes.

Thanksgiving Week

I saw Nano to the end and this feels good. I have completed 56,004 words so far on my new novel. But that’s not what this post is about. Last night I dreamed that I was living in a big new house. I was dressing to go to a fancy dinner when I looked outside and noticed my new house was actually located on a river, something I hadn’t noticed when I moved in. I stopped my rushing and went outside to a deck that overlooked the calm water. Large healthy Canadian Geese swam in the shallow part near the bank. I sat in a big comfortable chair and promised myself I would take time each day to come out and meditate on the river, that I was so fortunate to be in this place.

This morning I woke with a sense of satisfaction. A busy and challenging week stretches in front of me. It is easy to be so caught up in all the ’stuff’ of life that I miss what is just outside my window. I think my dream was telling me to slow down and enjoy my life no matter what is taking place. The geese represent my storytelling abilities and creativity. The river is the flow of life.

I will cook a big Thanksgiving dinner this year as I have done since I became an adult. But what is different about this holiday? For me it is knowing I can’t create some big happy celebration like The Waltons on TV. Remember that show? Those happenings come and go, depending on others and the events in their lives. This year I accept that life flows like the river in my dream, and I am part of that flow.  My tradition stands in the cooking of the meal. Each year since my oldest child was old enough to stand in a chair, I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner with one of my four daughters if not all of them. I have passed to them the joy of cooking with each other.

Take time this week to see where you are in the flow of life. Don’t get bogged down in the ’stuff’, but step outside the ‘issues’ and watch the river.

Happy Thanksgiving

Ann

 

Week Two Of Nano

I start the week at 31,709 words into my novel. This amazes me since last week was so crazy. First of all the weather as so beautiful it forced me to walk more. Second I had my granddaughter most of the week. Third Hubby had a horrible migraine on Friday. Fourth the car wouldn’t start Saturday morning. Fifth the battery we bought didn’t help. Sixth the coolit fan runs even if the engine is off. Seventh we had to go on a field trip with Daughter. Eighth the car’s lights get very bright and he dash lights all run at the same time.

I took a walk yesterday and enjoyed the wonderful weather, thinking I really shouldn’t be enjoying something when we had so many problems. I did some writing and then walked Granddaughter and Daughter to the International Farmers Market up the road. We had a blast buying fruit for snacks and fresh nuts.

I have no idea what will become of our situation, but I’m writing and that is the most important thing.

Oh yeah, I remembered why I married my husband. This morning I woke up to a beautiful homemade card. Eighteen years ago tonight I met him. Through all the chaos, he remembered. Life is good.

Day Six Nano Madness

Moved up to 23,649 today. I’m flexing my fingers on this one. Still watching my granddaughter. She’s crawling under the dining room table, where I’ve set up a writing station. I can’t take her in my study. Gees, the mess she would make in that room. I’m proud to be so productive. I guess all those years of being mom and writer are paying off again.

The call of an artist is about creating what is in his or her soul, giving it space, nurturing it into full maturity. This is not so different from raising children.

Yesterday while granddaughter played, I took a pile of index cards and did character sketches for each character in this new novel. This helped me get a handle on the entanglement of these characters in each other’s lives. This is what I came up with.

Robert Todd (Grace Jean’s Husband)

1. Has a hard time being faithful to Grace Jean.
2. Takes Grace Jean’s picture crossing a busy street and this is how they come to be a couple. She is twenty-three. He is thirty.
3. He meets Pearl, Grace Jean’s best friend, while Pearl is working for a judge at courthouse.
4. He goes after both women at the same time.
5. He marries Grace Jean without her knowing about his affair with Pearl.

This is only a side character, but it helps to know all I can about what dives him. I’ve also taken to cutting out pictures of rooms and gardens that would belong to the characters. I have glued them in a spiral notebook with comments, a novel journal of sorts. This is my first time approaching a novel in this way.

Well, granddaughter is crying. Off to nurture. Write On!

Ann

Day Three, Four, and Five of Madness

Writing 50,000 words in less than thirty days is pure madness on a good month when life is going like you want. Ah, but how often does life go like you want it? So far my total for the first five days is 20,459 words.

This is totally amazing to me considering what has been taken place here on the home front. First, I have my granddaughter with me. So, I’m mom to a lively toddler again, and she has a cold. Second, I volunteer at the local school every week. I read for three hours. Talk about exhausting. But I so love reading to the kids. Third, I have accepted book review assignments for three new books not counting my reviewing I do for a New York Publisher. But these new reviews were offered to me by publishers where I reviewed before. In other words they requested me. It is hard to say no when the books are so important and come from smaller literary presses that are sending important writing voices into the world. Plus, I am exposed to some of the finest writing in the country. One being Mary Jo Bang’s new book of poetry. You talking about beautiful.

So, what have I learned from the madness this year? I think I’ve learned the same thing I learn each year but need a reminder. I can do whatever means most to me. Writing and reading goes hand in hand. I learn tons about my own voice from both.

The word count of 20,459 is nothing to sneeze at. I’m almost to the halfway point. I think this is my best year ever if I don’t lose footing along the way. It is my goal to get a rough, rough draft of the whole novel.

Off to write and then a little walk.

 

Ann

Day Two Nano 2009

Well, I’m off to a decent start. I have written 12,306 words. Not too bad. I love allowing myself the time and space to write this many words. But as of now, I really don’t have much more to say. I’m saving it for tomorrow’s word count.

Ann