As you know my book, A HUMAN ELEMENT, is being published in March 2012 by Echelon Press.
I wish my mom were still alive to be a part of that. But here’s the thing. If she were alive I would not have finished writing a book. I would not be getting published. I wouldn’t be here right now doing this if it weren’t for my mom.
She died from cancer 2 years ago. This strong and vibrant woman. I watched her become a shadow. And then I watched her go. I took care of her in the final moments. Then she slipped away. And I knew I had to make my dream come true. Write my first book. And then another. I had wanted to do it for years.
My mom’s life was gone. Mine half over. But mine was still here to conquer. She was always my #1 champion. I had to now my be champion.
She was my mom. My safety net. My battle of wills. She defined who I am and who I hope to be. She was the world’s greatest character, the shining light to so many. And she’ll now be the model for a character in my newest novel.
So, I guess you could say I wrote from grief. It healed me. It comforted me. It made me feel like I was doing something for my mom.
The author, Michael Kimball, wrote his novel US from this sort place. How true his words are in this article and here. “There is a lot of love in grief”. That is true and comforting, premier-pharmacy.com/product/lipitor/ isn’t it?
Another author who wrote from grief is Ann Hood. She lost her will to read and write after her 5 year old daughter died suddenly from virulent strep. She eventually took up knitting to comfort her. From her healing grew the tale The Knitting Circle about a woman who loses her 5 year old daughter to meningitis and how knitting comforted her during a time of terrible anguish.
Maybe someday I’ll write about those last few days and moments with my mom. But it’s still too close for me just yet.
So I wrote for my mom first. It was my way of talking to her then. To heal. To accomplish something I told her I always would. Now I have and I can write for me. My first book maybe the one that sits in a drawer. Don’t we all have one sitting in a drawer? Someday I’ll come back to it. Maybe. But that book led to another. And now another. And now a 4th one I am starting. All in 2 years. What a long way I have come.
So, thanks Mom. For bringing me to what I always wanted to do in my life. Write books.
I know I am not the only story like this.
What drove you to sit down and write that first book? Was it a special person or an event? What keeps driving you?
I found some answers here by other authors on what inspires them to write. Is one of these yours?
How did you finally write your first The End? Tell me here.