Writing with Truth
I love to write. I’ve been writing for a long time. When I was young I wrote poems about nature, my feelings, or most often, to please a family almost impossible to please. In my teens I wrote about the ferocity of my emotions, about scary stuff because I was attracted to horror films at the time. (Can’t watch them anymore!) Mostly poetry. Some flowery, some sad, some wistful. But in that writing was truth. Raw emotion, whatever I felt at the time.
Then the writing stopped. For years. Life happens…marriage, babies, and all the wonderful things that go with that curve of life. Being a wife and mom was all I ever dreamed for myself. That’s it, you ask? Yes. Because if I didn’t have a comfortable, safe loving home as a child, I’d damned well make one for my family. Well, I did, to my way of thinking anyway. Certainly not perfectly, but the best I could do. But life veers in directions we don’t anticipate.
My husband and I have been together since we were 17 and 19. We are 52 and 54. That’s no small feat, one we are proud of. Believe me, there has been wild joy, tons of laughter (our absolute rule for living a happy life), deep sorrow, fear over lost jobs, a sick baby, a lost home, friends you thought would be there always and are not, personal illness. All the things typical of life. At the end of the day we love each other, and are here in all our flawed humanity.
We are blessed with three children. Our son just turned 32 and has a wonderful wife and two gorgeous little boys. Our grandsons are 3 and almost 7 and exude a vitality and wonder which amazes us. There are no words for the joy that comes from seeing your child happy with life, with their spouse and both of them in love with each other and their children. Every moment you spend during the course of your child’s life is a living thread to this moment. Colorful, made stronger every day, woven into our family life. Beautiful, precious, pure truth.
Our two daughters are beautiful people, talented with a lot to offer. They’re still finding their way, being 19 and 20, bridging from young adulthood to what comes next. I have a lot to say about them and will save it for another post. I’m proud of them, love them wildly and with a poignancy that nearly hurts. More truth.
Now I’m writing again. Last year I published a book, proudly joining the ranks of Indie romance writers. Now I have a new goal for myself, one I’ve harbored for over sixteen years. To be a published author and give it all I’ve got. Is the work perfect? Heck, no. But I touched on some truths in my life, wove them into a story that I hope touches someone’s life.
I’m preparing to publish the second book in the series in just a few weeks. Recently I read a book by Jennifer Probst, a writer whose work I greatly admire. The proverbial lightbulb went on over my head. Jennifer talks in her book about Writing Naked, which in other words means writing with truth. Digging down deep where our emotions seethe, where we keep a lid on them for fear they’ll take us down. In doing so, Jennifer wrote an incredible novel, Searching for Beautiful. Why do I love it so much? Raw truth.
So this morning before heading off to my day job, I write this blog post to remind myself to write with truth. In Breaking Tides I want my character’s emotions to be open, exposed and real. That’s the only way the book will touch anyone and the only wait I can let it go. With every book, I want more. More depth, more emotion. More truth.
My next book, Tides of Rain, rolls in my head around the clock. This story demands to be told. I’m going to touch on something I’m experiencing in my life right now. An issue, and a story, very prevalent in today’s society, but one I feel needs to be told. Believe me, I’m very afraid of going there. But I’ll do it and whatever happens, I’ll work hard to pour truth out onto the page, and hope it touches someone’s life.