Four and a half years ago our world crumbled. After our oldest daughter passed away life became about coping. Making it from one moment to the next. Trying to make sure my family was healing. Making sure I was healing. My brain was a foggy mess. I could barely think and function beyond my immediate needs and the needs of my family.
My words left me.
My stories left me.
For the first time, in a long time, my characters fell silent, as though they too were mourning.
I wondered if any of it would come back and for a while, I almost hoped it didn’t. A year after she passed, I began to try to find the writer. Most of the time I didn’t want to write. It was hard. I usually ended in tears.
But, each time I tried it got a little easier. I healed a little more, and I was relieved to discover that the writer did not die with Lizy.
So, now, after over three years, I am really writing again. Stories flood my brain while characters vie for attention.
And, for the first time in far too long, I have started to query again. 10 queries sent out today. For me, it’s a cause for celebration. I know it will continue to be a long journey, I’m okay with that. It will be fun to see what the future holds.
This last weekend I attended a writer’s conference in Kansas City. On a page on the wall writer’s could write down the best advice they received. I read:
QUIT! because if you try and you can’t, you really are a writer.