In the elated hours awaiting the arrival of my first grandchild on Friday, I couldn’t sit still long enough to write, much less construct a basic sentence. A captive in the throngs of verbal labor I couldn’t push out one articulate phrase. Giddy excitement overhauled my rational senses and linked my thoughts into a chain of mismatched babble.
The mail lady (What’s the correct term anyway? The spoken words suggests a contradiction in terms.) delivered a package to my door. A gush of syllables strung together without benefit of infusing a breath, spiked my jumbled phraseology with disconnected words. The lady smiled and nodded, but as I revisit my manic performance the question of my sanity had rimmed her wide-eyed stare. Did she drive away like a sleuth immersed in a mystery to unlock my scrambled message void of any codes? Or did she waste little time and mentally wrote ‘nut house’ next to my mailing address? I don’t know, but I haven’t seen her since.
The ugly serrated edge of this sword rests in my mother’s failing health and battle with re-occurring breast cancer. Thought I am steeped in joy at the arrival of my precious granddaughter, the exit door of life opens a little wider to foreshadow my mother’s weakened body. One might suggested I embrace the analogy a new family member has entered my world to lesson the pain of another in their exit. But a mountain of joy can’t replace a mountain of grief. Their unique vastness and qualities aren’t interchangeable.
Some writers can write in the midst of ecstasy or sorrow tossed into their lives. They plunge into their writing as a form of therapy to level or purge the imbalance. I applaud their ability to unlatch the gate of resistance, and push themselves beyond the borders of blinding brightness or heavy blackness to cloudless fields infused in unlimited possibilities.
For other writers, their emotions are woven into their characters personalities. These characters play across the setting, and dictate the direction, flow, and intensity of each word the writer sets in their thoughts and onto their lips. The journey establishes the writers earnest quest for answers and closures in their personal life. They press onward and listen to their own voice echoing in the cadence of their characters.
There are also writers who seek a path to a serene place to hibernate and contemplate. A time away from the writing world doused in conflicts, plots, villains, turning points, and black moments. They rest, cleanse their soul, draw strength, breath in the breath of renewed faith and resurface with a refilling of fresh ideas.
I’ve heard it said over and over, ‘Write what you know.’ In this moment, this is what I know. I can’t write when either side of a double edged sword pricks my heart.
How do you handle the double-edged sword when it cuts into your writing world?
8 comments:
As usual eloquent and fun to read, Lori!
I understand your joy and sorrow and feel for you. For many years I took care of everything else before my writing- that included emotional turmoil and family. But lately I've found, the writing grounds me. When my world feels like chaos abounds, I can slip into my created world and even though they may be about to be hung or being dragged behind a horse, it calms me and gives me the energy I need to tackle what ever is going on in my "real" world.
But I also know there are those who have to settle the real world before they can move into the imaginary one. And that's fine. If everyone were the same the world would be very boring.
Take your time with personal stuff and write when you're ready. No one, not even me and my wet noodle, are going to stand over you and force you to put words on paper when you are dealing with life. Hang in there- you'll get through this and be stronger for it.
Paty, thank you for your kind words and your perspective. We all face difficult challenges in our lives, and we all deal with them in a way that best nurtures our own heart.
My mother was in too much pain to see Miss Emma at the hospital. Mom has her good days and bad. We're anxious for the two of them to meet and take four generation pictures. A treasure to be placed in Emma's baby book.
Every experience, whether satisfying or heart breaking, adds to our structure and frame. Though we sometimes feel like we might crumble from the weight, we often discover strengths we didn't know we possessed. For they only emerge when necessity deems they hold us upright.
I'm so sorry you're going through this with your mom, Lori. It's so difficult to see someone you love in pain. Joy and sorrow coincide sometimes. It adds to the texture of life.
I hope you get some good pics of baby and great grandma soon.
When there are less than pleasing happenings in my life, I have a hard time working on my WIP. But I often feel like writing, so I'll work on something more fitting to my mood. I know when my kids were teenagers my book projects were my escape from snarky brats with bad grades and badder friends. Ugh. I'm so glad that part of my life is over. *takes a moment to let the shakes pass before typing again*
I hope things get better for your mom, Lori. And best wishes to the new mommy (and may her future teen adventures be less problematic than mine were).
Karen, I know you've lost your mom and also had another grand baby - Adam. I love that name. We named our second son Adam. So, I know you can identify with that double-edge sword.
You're so right. Every situation we find ourselves thrust into adds texture to our lives.
Oh, Lori. I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. She's in my thoughts and prayers (as are you).
I can't honestly answer your question as over the course of my writing, I really don't think I've been hit with something major that distracted me in such a way as I wasn't able to write. I take that back...after I had my third 3.5 yrs ago, I took a few months off because new motherhood is enough work all by itself. But I knew going in I was taking that time off, so it wasn't like I was trying to write and couldn't because I was dealing with outside stresses.
I'm not sure I'm any help. But knowing you, Lori, I'm sure you'll take both of these situations and work them into your writing somehow.
Good luck and keep us posted on how you're (all) doing.
An Intrigue writer whose daughter was dying asked, "How can I write when my heart is bleeding?"
The answer is different for everyone. I've written through some pains and been stopped cold by others.
You are so wise to realize that a new life does not ease the sorrow of losing another. But a new life does bring joy and sometimes that joy helps. After my sister-in-law, Marcie, died, her daughter had a child and there on top of her little head was a thatch of curly red hair -- Marcie's red hair. The whole family knew it was Marcie's doing in some way and to this day, that red headed kid brings a smile to their faces because she reminds them of Marcie.
Even if Emma doesn't look a thing like your mom, your mom lives in her as she lives in you and your son. I hope you get that picture soon and I wish you the best as you cope with this tragedy in any way you can. The nice thing about writing is that you can set it aside for awhile and it will wait for you. And the chances are that when you're ready to come back, you'll be stronger than ever.
Ah, Lori, cyber hugs and healing energy to your entire family. As you and others have mentioned, there's no right or wrong way to deal with times of great sorrow or great celebration in our lives. You do what feels right at the time and for the place you are in your life.
And sometimes that may seem contradictory. At one time of great sorrow and betrayal in my life, I grieved for awhile, then wrote a romantic comedy (most of it anyway) as therapy to bring me back to a happier place. Different than your situation, certainly, but it was what felt right to me at the time.
Give yourself permission to do whatever feels right, even if that changes from day to day or hour to hour, and even if it scares the mail lady off!
Eli, thank you for your kind words, thoughts and prayers. They are a soothing balm to my soul. Yes, every experience we face has the potential to be woven in some fashion into our writing.
Alice, thank you for your words of comfort. You know, I hadn't thought about Miss Emma carrying some of my mother's traits. Now that I think about it my mom said something the other day with a humorous giggle in her tone. Her hair is starting to come back in and it's darker than its ever been, in fact it's the same color as Miss Emma's. Mom said the other morning she washed and dried her hair and it stuck up over like a punk hairdo. I can envision a picture of her and Emma together sporting their short hair styles.
Genene, thanks for the hugs they feel so good. Your advice was spot on. This afternoon the creative bug struck and I gave myself permission to work on a scene. A measure of therapeutic calm infused those moments.
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