I didn’t mean to wait so long to write the final installment of my quest to get an agent. (Sorry about that.) The good news is that I’m revising my tactics and actively pursuing ways to become a new and improved, more competent blogger. More to come on that later, but for now it’s back to the world of agenting. If you’re coming late to the party, grab a snack and catch up…
*The Truth About Getting an Agent – Part 1
*The Truth About Getting an Agent – Part 2
*The Truth About Getting an Agent – Part 3
It’s time to enter the Land of Revision BWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Revision is an epic journey, especially the very first time you tackle something that is novel length. I’ve broken my journey down into four steps. I hope it helps you walk that lonely road. The first step is…
SIMPLE: You can start your giggling now…I thought REVISION was going to be simple. The first reason I believed that was–well– because I wanted to. I’d just completed the unthinkable–I’d written a novel from first page to last. I wanted to celebrate. I knew it wasn’t "done"–but I wanted it to be. I’d expended every ounce of my brain power to get that far on my journey and I didn’t really have a next level to take it to.
This is that perfect time to put your work in the drawer and start something new, feed the muse, read some books or do that mountain of laundry. I sort of did that, but I did it with training wheels and a pull-up on. I hired the lovely and talented K.L. Going to critique my manuscript. She was amazing, the experience was fantastic. I had everything I needed to move forward but…
STUPID: I was stupid. I received a wonderful, multipage critique letter from Kelly and I had no earthly idea what to do with it. I was not "developmentally ready" to revise. I hadn’t learned enough. Now that bit of information should not mislead you into thinking that I didn’t try. I really did. But the truth was–I didn’t know I was stupid at the time. *grin* So I made some surface changes and fixes, called it a day and started to send it out to agents.
The good news is that stupid doesn’t have to last forever. Somehow, while submitting to agents and beginning work on book two, I made the decision to always be reading at least one book on the craft of writing. It was a darn good thing I did, because it was the best thing I could’ve done. I took the time to learn what I did not know.
Here are some books that you might find helpful in the daily fight against stupid…
*THE FIRST FIVE PAGES: A Writer’s Guide to Staying Out of the Rejection Pile-Noah Lukeman
-I also recommend his other books…(I’ve currently read two more)
*THE PLOT THICKENS: 8 Ways to Bring Fiction to Life
*A DASH OF STYLE: The Art and Mastery of Punctuation
*HOOKED: Writing Fiction that Grabs Readers at Page One an Never Lets Them Go-Les Edgerton
-Just finished this last night, the quest to avoid stupid never stops.
*WRITING GREAT BOOKS FOR YOUNG ADULTS: Everything You Need to Know, From Crafting the Idea to Landing a Publishing Deal-Regina Brooks
*WRITING & SELLING THE YA NOVEL-K.L. Going
*NOVEL METAMORPHOSIS: Uncommon Ways to Revise-Darcy Pattison
*THE COMPLETE IDIOT’S GUIDE TO PUBLISHING CHILDREN’S BOOKS-Harold D. Underdown
*WRITING IT RIGHT! How Successful Children’s Authors Revise and Sell Their Stories-Sandy Asher
-This book includes advice on PB to YA.
*SELF-EDITING FOR FICTION WRITERS: How to Edit Yourself Into Print-Renni Browne & Dave King
*78 REASONS WHY YOUR BOOK MAY NEVER BE PUBLISHED AND 14 REASONS WHY IT JUST MIGHT-Pat Walsh
*THE FOREST FOR THE TREES: An Editor’s Advice to Writers-Betsy Lerner
*ON WRITING: A Memoir of the Craft-Stephen King
*THE ART OF WAR FOR WRITERS: Fiction Writing Strategies, Tactics, and Exercises-James Scott Bell
*BIRD BY BIRD: Some Instructions on Writing and Life-Anne Lamott
I learned valuable things and found inspiration in every one of these books. I urge you read and re-read these and other books on the craft of writing.
So, now that I did some reading, I was no longer quite as stupid as a I was before, but now I was…
SCARED: I was really scared. Now I knew the truth–revision is a whole lot of work. At about this time I had submitted a query and/or sample chapters to 33 different agents. That number is a grand total, not a mass emailing. I sent a handful of well thought out submissions that were personalized. Sometimes I would get a request for a partial, other times I would get a rejection. Whenever I got a rejection, I would research another agent I thought would be a match. Sometimes there were agents where a lack of reply by a certain date was also considered a no.
I had two agent requests that seemed promising… In August 2009, Michelle Wolfson requested 50 pages. Of course I accidentally sent the document in the wrong format. *head thunk* She was really cool about it and from our brief emails and banter, I felt that this could be promising. The second agent, after reading a partial, requested a full in January 2010. I heard from this agent in March. She was terrific and gave me praise for what I’d done right with my manuscript and then proceeded to give me some advice on what would make it better. She offered to look at it again if I decided to make the changes. I was first and foremost appreciative that an agent had taken the time to point me in the right direction. I was also scared. I pulled out the critique notes that I’d been given by K. L. Going and almost had a panic attack–they were very, very similar. I hadn’t been able to fix it before, so what made me think I could do it now?
SKILL: I had acquired new skills. I’d been reading, writing and thinking like a writer. I’d been learning and growing and as I looked over all the notes and suggestions, something amazing happened–I knew what to do. It wasn’t going to be SIMPLE, but that’s okay, I wasn’t as STUPID as I used to be. I was still a little SCARED, but I think you should always have a little fear in your life to keep you on your toes. Besides I knew I had two things going for me, I had gained new SKILLS and I’d learned that there were always new skills to gain. I began to revise and a funny thing happened–I learned to LOVE the Land of Revision.
It took me about a week of mulling-it-over time, to figure out what I was going to do, then I began to write. About halfway through the revision I heard from Michelle Wolfson. It had been awhile and she apologized for the delay, but she was interested in seeing the full manuscript of TOUCHING THE SURFACE. I explained to her that I was in the middle of a revision and didn’t want to send it out until it was complete. She asked me to keep her in mind. I did. She was on my radar daily because she was on Twitter LOL! As I was writing, I was following and the more I saw of her, the more I liked her.
In October 2010 I finished my revision and sent it out to both agents. A month later Michelle Wolfson loved the story and wanted to have a phone conversation. I honestly didn’t have any idea what to expect. All I knew for sure was that I was so darn excited I could barely sleep. I finally had to do the Jedi mind trick on myself. I convinced myself that she wasn’t really interested and then took it down a notch and waited for the day of the call. We had a fantastic phone conversation. I was nervous, but it went well and she *drum roll* gave me revision suggestions. The recommendations were framed in a very positive way, stressing that she was still very interested and I only felt the tiniest bit of disappointment that she hadn’t made an offer.
In retrospect, I will always be grateful that she never made the offer that day. I know it sounds strange, but sometimes life is like pot roast–if you cook it too fast–you may not enjoy it as much as if you’re patient. I think if she had signed me, and then asked for the revisions, I might have ended up with a stomach ulcer LOL! The people-pleasing component of my personality would have kicked into high-gear and likely undermined the success of the revision. Instead, I mulled-it-over and did what I’ve learned to do–my best–for me. A beautiful thing happened–I knew what to write and just how to do it. I quickly made the improvements and then sent it back to Michelle. She was leaving on vacation and was taking it with her, but she wasn’t sure if she would get to it over the holidays. That left me only one thing to do…stalk her on Twitter.
In the meantime the other agent contacted me and said she still had me on her radar and would be reading after the holidays. I sent her the updated manuscript and then settled into wait.
I learned a lot from my time on Twitter. In light of all the debate about the importance of cyber interactions, I recommend you join the conversation. Not only did I discover a million things about Michelle on twitter, (she has young kids like me and adores Pop-tarts) I also saw first hand, the type of relationships she has with her authors (AWESOME! Kiersten White, Tawna Fenske and Linda Grimes to name a few) It was also evident that she has amazing connections with her followers: other agents, editors, writers, readers and book lovers for starters. As time went on and we bantered back and forth, I came to realize that she was the agent that I wanted. The other agent was wonderful, but I had a relationship with this one. It was so hard to wait for her to read the revisions, but I knew that if this did work out, I was going to be right where I belonged.
Then this happened…she signed another YA client. *head thunk*
I heard the news directly from Michelle and she assured me she was reading and loving SURFACE. She wanted me to know that this had no impact on her interest. Oh, the stress…LOL! I did the only thing I could do…I cyber stalked the new girl! I was fully prepared to dislike Monica Bustamante Wagner, but you can’t. She seemed sweet, her story ideas sounded amazing, she’s the mom of three boys too. To top it all off, she lives in Chile and english is her second language. I started "writer crushing" on her immediately and twittered over to her page and wished her luck with her awesome new agent. Of course, she WAS sweet and she thanked me for the good wishes and we struck up a friendship on the spot. (You may want to read her saga of signing with Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary–it’s on her blog and involves a trampoline!)
On January 6th, I…ME…THE GIRL WHO IS WRITING THIS…signed with Michelle Wolfson!!!!!!! (The excessive punctuation is deliberate!!!!!!!) I did a lot of jumping that day and there wasn’t even a trampoline in sight LOL!
When I stopped jumping I realized, six years had passed since I’d lost my dad. His death at 57 was unexpected and I’d never imagined, at that point in my life, needing to rethink what I thought was written in the stars.
We can’t always win, sometimes we lose–everyone does. But we need to keep in mind, that if we’re lucky, we learn that we write our own story and if it isn’t going as planned–then we revise.
Tags: agent, Dad, K.L Going, Kimberly Sabatini, Kimmiepoppins, query, revision
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I’m back and gratefully a little smarter than I was in Part 1 and 2 of this adventure. When I left off, I’d just joined SCBWI and even more shocking–I’d signed up for the SCBWI 2007 Eastern NY Conference. I’m not sure what possessed me, I’m not super spontaneous on a normal day, but to make it even more of a head scratcher–the conference was on my 2-year-old’s birthday. OK-maybe a little break, even from this cutie, wasn’t a bad thing for a mom of three boys under the age of six. It felt important–I was compelled to go. Of course, my super, fabulous husband has supported me from the beginning and so the term "Daddy Party Weekend" was born. LOL!
Of course the birthday was fully celebrated later and on multiple other occasions, but I still wonder how I ended up at that conference… All I can say was something was pushing me. Was it my Dad? I’d like to think he was giving me a nudge in the right direction.
I went, but I almost didn’t make it through registration. I walked down the step into a room full of people who I didn’t know. I was sure they knew that I was a kid-lit impersonator. I came so close to leaving–then I saw one face that I knew…
Chris Shave and I taught together at a local Intermediate school and he was my life raft for the day. I had someone to hang out with and to sit with at the lunch table. Thank you, Chris. (((((hugs)))))
****I need to interrupt this blog for an important public service announcement…if you’re ever at a conference by yourself–with no one to hang out with. (Example: eating room service alone at your first NY SCBWI Conference) COME FIND ME!!!!! I know how bad that feels, so hang out with me instead. We will now return to our regular programming.****
Once I settled down and decided to stay, my life changed forever. I met the two most wonderful role models an aspiring children’s writer could ask for–Laurie Halse Anderson and K.L. Going.
I didn’t take pictures at that original conference, so I’ll borrow this one from Laurie’s book tour of Chains. If you’re interested, my very first blog post EVER was inspired by Laurie and written about her. (ORIGINAL BLOG POST) It took me two months of cyber stalking the Mad woman in the Forrest to get up enough courage to write that first post…but I did it.
Later, when I saw Laurie at the book signing in the picture above, I broke into tears as I proudly told her that I’d completed the first draft of my novel and it was because of her. I’ll never forget her sincere interest in me. It made me feel like a legitimate writer for the first time. I love this lady even more because she cried with me and told me more wonderful things that I’ll never forget…
She told me to remember that she once stood where I was standing and the reason she was here was because someone else had done for her, what she had done for me. She said that Children’s Writers are the finest people in the whole world and when I make it (and she knows I will) I will pay it forward and help other aspiring writers on their journey.
So in case you’re wondering–I’m planning on making it. I have something to pay forward and amazing people who believe in me.
I know–I could have died happy right after that experience, but by golly the writing gods have a purpose for me and they were hammering home their point that day. They say lightening can’t strike twice, but I also met K.L. Going and was equally as inspired by her. Then I discovered she was giving a very intimate local Writer’s Workshop in a couple of weeks and I could also get a 10 page one-on-one critique. I decided to go, but first I had to start writing my book…
I had an idea. It was a beginning. It’s morphed and changed and grown since the summer of 1997, but I had an idea and I wrote 27 pages down and I had my critique. It was perfect. Kelly gave me enough thumbs up to keep me going and lots of ideas on world building and a million other things I didn’t know. Then I began to work on it. Kelly has a motto and its by my desk where I can see it every day. Be yourself. Have an Opinion. Tell the World. My work was cut out for me.
The following year, with my first NY SCBWI conference (room service and all) under my belt, I returned to Kelly’s workshop again. It was one year later and I purchased a double critique and sent her my first 20 pages.
*K.L. Going’s Workshop
I was nervous. It had been a whole year and what if what I’d written stunk? I was feeling like this…
I could have flown to the moon and back when she commented about my persistence IN CLASS!!! She said that she’d seen a HUGE improvement in my writing since last year. Then we talked and once again she pushed me in the right direction and I learned another extremely important lesson–the whole story can be in your head–but no one can read it unless it is on the page. I needed to stop revising so much while writing my first draft. I gave myself permission to just write.
I also gave myself a couple goals. I’d just applied to the Rutgers On-on-One Conference in October. I didn’t know if I’d get in or not, but I was going to have a finished draft by the date of that conference. Then when I was done revising, I was going to hire Kelly to critique my full manuscript.
I finished the first draft AND got into Rutgers.
The day I put the last words on the paper–I laid my head down on my desk and bawled. I hadn’t known. It was shocking to figure out that I hadn’t been sure I could really do it–write a whole novel. I also realized that I had no idea how the story was going to end until I finished it. I finally understood that this story was my emotional journey, just as much as it was my characters, and no matter what happened to this book in the future–it existed. I existed. I now occupied the world in a brand new way. Everything was perfect–well until I had to learn all about that thing called revision. But for now, lets just enjoy this magic moment. Revision is a story for another day. But keep in mind, you don’t get an agent without being able to revise…stay tune and I can prove it to you. Of course I learned the hard way. *grin*
Tags: agent, Dad, K.L Going, laurie halse anderson, Rutgers
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I can’t imagine you haven’t heard that I’ve signed with agent Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency. You had to have heard–I was yelling!!!! I need to write a post about the journey…its what I do. But if you don’t mind, give me just a little wiggle room because I’d like to do it my way…
As much as I ADORE all my writer friends, I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I’ve always coveted their good news just a tiny little bit. I mean, if I didn’t, that would make me like a droid or something and then I wouldn’t be cuddly and I might rust. So as a human, with human emotions, I’ll admit that I’ve always been 99.9% over the moon, excited for my writer peeps–with one exception. I’m possibly just a little more than .1% green with envy of Mike Jung. He’s Captain Stupendous and I’ve always wanted to be a superhero too.
So for all of you out there, who’ve embraced me with all your love and support, (I’m only talking to that .1% part of you–deep down inside where your soft and squishy vulnerable stuff is) This is for you…to remind you that it wasn’t an easy journey, I didn’t do it alone and that it was so worth it–so please don’t give up.
This was how my journey as a writer started…
The date is June 18, 2004. Several months before this picture was taken, on this little guy’s 1st birthday, my Dad was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor on his optic nerve. Later, in September my Dad had his last birthday. My final gift to him was the knowledge that he was going to be a grandpa for the third time. Towards the end, he would lay in bed–he was blind, half paralyzed and extremely aware of being a burden on his family. (He never was.) He asked me one day if the baby was close to coming. (It was December and my youngest wasn’t due until June.) That’s when I realized he was waiting. He was waiting for me and he was waiting for my baby. Once again, I held him close and whispered that I did not want him to wait. I told him that I knew he would be with me always and that it was OK for him to go. He died on New Years Day 2005. I was sad, but I was mostly relieved that he was going to feel like this again…
After he was gone I missed him terribly, but like I’d predicted–he hadn’t left. He made is presence known and I started to write. This is what I wrote…
When your father dies unexpectedly you have two choices; you can let a little piece of yourself die with him or you can let a little piece of him live with you…
You know my pick.
If I Was There to Tell You
I never knew myself to be deep as the ocean.
I skated across life as if it were a sheet of ice.
At certain times, in uncertain light
I thought I saw something deeper,
but I was never truly sure.
My beautiful baby, now grown and searching,
would grab my hand and try to make me fly.
I made no sense of this…
but she kept flying and returning for me.
Always coaxing me to soar,
never understanding my fear of falling to the ice.
Fracturing completely.
As I lay dying, she held my hand.
As the dark shattered, I suddenly realized…
there is no ice when you know yourself to be the ocean.
Just like there is no ceiling when
you know yourself to be the sky.
Now I fly with her to the depths of me. |
|
This was the first time in my life where I’d written something that came from some place bigger than myself. It was an experience of a lifetime and I was hooked. I wanted that feeling again and again but I was afraid. I didn’t have a lot of faith in what I could do as a writer, so I joined an online poetry site and I wrote more poems about everything I was feeling. I also cyber cruised the SCBWI website. I didn’t think I belonged there. I felt I wasn’t good enough to be a part of that, but it never stopped my from driving by.
About halfway through my pregnancy, it was my birthday, and I received a wonderful present. One I will never forget.
This is Heather. We’ve been friends since junior high school. We’re still friends and she is a link in the chain of reasons that I now have an agent. For my birthday that year, she bought a pregnant and grieving friend, a ticket to a local author’s luncheon. It was a pivotal moment for me. I heard the authors talking about their books and how they came to be standing there. I was in awe. Then we went home and sat in the driveway and talked for several hours. We shared the day and other good things and then for just a moment I felt brave and I shared something ugly. Something I was ashamed of and that is when it happened…Heather didn’t hate me, didn’t judge me. Instead, she felt relieved because she’d been carrying around the same ugly thing too. She thought she was alone. I thought I was alone. We weren’t–now we were together and the burden wasn’t so heavy to carry. I laid in bed that night and one of the biggest revelations of my life hit me.
I needed to be open and honest with people. I had done it for my father when he was dying and it was beautiful. But why should I wait until someone was dying to speak up?
I realized there will always be people who hate me and others who don’t understand me, but in the big scheme of things, they are few. Most people want to connect. They don’t want to be alone and my truth might be the connection that makes the difference. That night I decided two very important things…
The first–being open and vulnerable is worth the risk of having my heart rubbed against a cheese grater from time to time.
The second–I am going to be an author.
***to be continued***
Tags: agent, Dad
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I broke from tradition this evening and instead of going out and spending the New Year with my brother, his girlfriend and my mom–John and I stayed home with his mom (who usually kidnaps the boys) and three sick little ones. Instead of telling stories about my dad–some funny (he was hilarious) and some sad (6 years ago we spent the New Year in a hospital waiting for him to die)–I found myself counting my blessings.
It is hard to lose a parent, but it is infinitely harder to lose a child. This year the Jones family lost their little girl and as you read, a dear friend of mine will soon lose another child that she loves from her life. With my feverish and uncomfortable 7 year old sitting on my lap, I felt horrible that he was so miserable, and very very grateful. I felt blessed that I grew up having a father to hold me when I was sick, lucky that my three children truly do not know what it means to suffer and humbled by the courage of those who have taken care of a truly sick child and then had to watch them leave.
My Dad had the biggest, kindest heart and I know that he would be honored–if when you take that extra moment to think of him today–you cut the memory short and take a minute or two to send a little extra love to those families that will have a 2011 with a piece of their heart missing.
Love and miss you, Daddy.
Kimmie
P.S. I owe you a happy post and promise to deliver soon–tonight is for the little ones. Miss you.
Tags: Dad
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As many of you know, in addition to being a writer, I’m also a dancer. I danced from the age of three until I went to college. There I dabbled, very briefly, with a dance club and then I didn’t dance any more and I missed it. I missed it for a l-o-n-g time.
This was how I started…
Just like with my writing, I had a dream. I wanted to be a dancer–because honestly, as a profession–"dancer/YA novelists" just rock *grin* So what happened? How could two things that mean so much to me get pushed to the wayside? The honest truth? I was…
While I was a good dancer, my body type wasn’t what was typical of the profession at the time.
*Please don’t judge me for my really bad 80’s hair.
I remember going to an audition for the local Nutcracker and wanting to die a thousand deaths. I STOOD OUT–and not in a good way. It was humiliating. That was BEFORE I even got to the dancing. That one incident stopped me from taking dance seriously in college: even though I loved it. I didn’t believe that I was good enough. Maybe I didn’t have to shoot for the stars–to try to be a professional. But I wonder where the journey would have taken me if I’d just minored in dance. I think I lost something by being afraid. I watch SYTYCD and witness the passionate dancers who break glass ceilings every season and it makes me a little sad that I NEVER took chances.
But what about writing? What was my excuse? Aren’t all body types welcome in that profession? Yes, but I was incapacitated by a different kind of exposure. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in who I was on the inside and writing was a great way to work through that until I realized that *gasp* other people would actually read what I’d written and get a birds eye view of what was on the inside of me. Do you see a pattern here? I kept writing–but I stopped writing from that deep place inside and when I did–the writing lost its magic. Without the magic…it also fell to the way side. Sadly, my soul spent a lot of time shriveling up and looking like a lint covered raisin that you might find in the cushions of a couch. Attractive, huh?
Lucky for me, this happened…
It shouldn’t seem lucky to have your father die of cancer and well, we all know that that wasn’t actually the lucky part. The up side to the biggest tragedy in my life was that my Dad gifted me with some extra courage before he left. RELATED BLOG POST.
After he died, I could no longer contain the truth. My truth. I began to write. I began to dance. I began to live.
Today I’ve written a YA novel called TOUCHING THE SURFACE. I’m looking for the right agent and I can picture my book on the shelves of bookstores and libraries. Book two the OPPOSITE OF GRAVITY is coming alive. I’m proud to say I have grown as a writer. Today I take dance classes. They challenge me, they inspire, they make me feel things. I also teach Combo classes to 3 and 4 year olds. They are the cherry on my sundae.
I’ve joined Workshop, where I’m ironically dancing with my target Young Adult audience LOL! They make me feel old, they make me feel wise, they make me feel welcome. Together we stretch…and isn’t that what its all really about anyway?
Tags: Dad
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If you read yesterday’s blog, you know that it was the 5th anniversary of of my father’s death. In typical fashion my family spent the day together remembering him and spending time with each other. The day before I pulled out my baby book in order to copy a picture of myself and my dad. During the search I found some really fun pictures and decided to bring the book to my mom’s house. We had lots of laughs sitting at the table looking through the pictures and the memories that went with them. While we talked, I decided to take a closer look at the things that my mom had stuffed in the pockets over the years. When I was little I was only interested in the pictures and as I got older I tended to avoid moving the fragile pages. Tucked between my first plane ticket and a post card from Mr. Doo Bee I found two letters from my father. I was 2 when he’d sent them to me, but I never knew they were in there. It was as if they had been lost in the mail for 38 years and had arrived today…
November 18, 1972
Kim,
I miss you very much. I hope you are being a very good girl for Mommy. It is very cold here where Daddy is working but I like it very much. There is a nice school here. There are many buses for children to ride on. I am going to a big church which you may remember. It is called Saint Bernard’s.
Is there snow on the ground in Beacon? There is a little here. I must go now but I would like you to keep helping Mommy and please be a good girl.
Love you Daddy
XX
Dear Daddy,
Thanks for writing to me. It warms my heart to know that you like where you are. I wish you were with me, but the next best thing is knowing that you’re happy. I’ll keep taking care of Mom and don’t worry about me…I’ll be a good girl. I had a wonderful role model to guide me. Don’t forget to write again soon. I miss you every day.
Love you~ Kimmie
XOXOXOXOXO
December 1, 1972
Hi Kim,
I hope you are being a good girl and helping Mommy. I miss you and Mommy very much. There is a lot of snow here. It seems like Santa Claus will be able to come with all his deer and bring you your Christmas presents.
Are you watching Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers? I think you are learning your A-B-C’s and numbers and becoming a big girl. I am very proud of you. You will soon be reading big books. Have you gotten any new books lately? I will see you soon.
Your Daddy,
Rich
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Dear Daddy~
I’m writing my own books now. I won’t stop until I get it right, but I think you know that already. Keep an eye on those book shelves…someday I will get to write a very very important dedication. You won’t want to miss it. By the way, Santa was great to me this year…he brought me you. I love and miss you…always.
Your Beautiful Baby~
Kimmie
XOXOXOXOXOXOX
Tags: Dad
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Its become a bit of a tradition. I come home from celebrating the New Year and then, when the whole house is quiet, I sit down to write and think about my father. At 2am on New Years Day it will be five years since he died. I also think about how its been five years since I was born…
I’m not sure I would be a writer if my father hadn’t died at the age of 57. He died of an inoperable brain tumor on his optic nerve. He also died of want. Most people don’t expect someone like my dad to die of want, but its the sunny ones that are the trickiest. On the outside he was beloved by almost everyone who met him. He was a wonderful husband and father, he was a volunteer fire fighter, a coach, a counselor, a friend. He was an all-around good guy. In fact there was a two hour wait on line at his wake. The line was out the door and around the block in 20 degree weather. How does a man like that die of want and even if he had, how could I possibly know?
I know because when I watched him die, I was afraid that one day I might die of want too. I was afraid of what we both knew… that you could live your whole life being what you are without ever being who you are.
There is value in being good at what you are, but there is loneliness in never being good at who you are.
I lost so much the night my father died, but I found something too. I found the courage that he left behind. It wasn’t enough courage to take him to the places that he wanted to go, but when combined with the bit that I’d been given for myself…it has become enough. Its let me find my voice. It has allowed me to write the things that are in my heart and soul. Through my writing I say things aloud that I’d barely allowed myself to think in the past. When I write, I am who I am. I picture him standing behind me, reading over my shoulder, knowing that I will never die of want because of who he is.
I love you Daddy…
Tags: Dad
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