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When the Going Gets Rough...December 18, 2008
Books have always been a great source of entertainment for me, but it wasn't until I was going through a traumatic time in my life that they took on a whole new meaning. A very sad and messy divorce left me bitter and alone because there were days and weeks my son went to stay with his dad. My house suddenly quiet for the first time in years I reached out to books to fill the void. Oddly enough, that's the time I rediscovered romance. I'd always been a Ludlum, Clancy, Fleming, Christie fan, but I needed something else. Thanks to a librarian I was introduced to Crusie, Kenyon, Feehan, Evanovich and Gabaldon. I laughed and cried and felt connected again. Then recently I found this article at Murderi by Toni MaGee Causey. It brought tears to my eyes because I feel very strongly about this too. Somewhere, there is a woman, sitting in a room, three days past a rape. Her bruises are turning purple and in a few more days, they're going to be that greenish hue of ghouls. She hasn't looked in a mirror, yet, but the swelling is starting to abate, and she can open her jaw without the execrable pain. The screaming is almost entirely in her head, now. The stitches hurting her remind her she's alive and she's not really sure why people keep telling her that, as if that's a good thing. She's not sure she wants to be. There's been just enough time to get past the initial shock, the stunned chaotic business of having lost any sense of strength in the face of the world. She has had just enough time to be processed, and there should be a stamp for her forehead: file # 56449A221.
Oh, people have been caring. They have been very professionally caring. All of the people, scads of them. They have been very careful not to touch her or move too fast. Everyone is diligent about addressing her respectfully, using her name, always making sure she feels like an individual. She can see it, see in their eyes how she is now different. The opposite of the person on the other side of the desk, where there are things like strength and weapons and confidence.
And right now, she is finally alone, though the moat around her has turned into an ocean, and the screaming, it just keeps on coming. For a few minutes, not having to deal with anyone else is good. A relief. But then there is the silence, and in the silence, it all happens again. She cannot close her eyes, because it's all happening. Again. She cannot talk to someone, because the screaming will break free. Or the tears. Either may kill her.
She needs. Needs. To be somewhere else, other than here. Other than this thing she's become. Needs to be able to step outside of her skin for a little while. Maybe a long long time.
She's going to go to her bookcase and pick up something. Maybe it's something where the woman kicks someone's ass. Maybe it's one where the good guy wins. Or the DA is brilliant. Or the girl comes of age and has confidence. Whatever it is, she gets to step outside of the bruises and the cuts and the broken bones for a little while. She gets to live a different ending. A different beginning. Have a safe place to be. And somehow, maybe, have a little hope that this thing, too, will pass.
 Write a story for her.~*~
Somewhere, there is a man, sitting in a hospital room. His wife has cancer, and he's been there, every day, before and after work. Except now, he can be there full-time, since he's lost his job. He's spent days seeking help, trying to find a way to keep her there, to make sure she has the care she needs, when all of his benefits are gone. He's filled out more paperwork in this one week than he's done in a lifetime, and only barely understands half of what they've told him, if that.
He'll try to get a second mortgage for the house. Sell off the second car, trade his in for something cheaper. The savings--such as it is, there's not much with two kids--is gone. The retirement will go next, and that might last a month, at this rate. They don't qualify yet for any sort of Medicare or help. His sister is at his house, boxing up stuff to sell. Doing it while the kids are at school, so they don't see.
The screaming is almost entirely in his head, now. The anger, the rage, the helplessness. His wife's asleep, and sleep is so rare with the pain she's in, he can't risk turning on the TV. She's been in too much pain for him to leave the room, though.
He's lost. He sees it in the eyes of the nurses, sees it in the eyes of the administrator. The woman running the accounts payable office. He's become this other thing, this person he doesn't know, and right now, for a little while, he needs. Needs. To be somewhere else but here. Someone else but him.
He'll slump down in the God-awful chair they have in the room, punching a pillow that one of the orderlies found for him, and he'll crack open that favorite paperback he grabbed on his way out the house this morning. For a little while, he gets to be a hero. He gets to fight crime or solve problems, save the world or save the girl. For a little while, he gets to have hope.
Write a story for him.
~*~
A lot of people in the industry are scared right now--things look bleak. If you're pushing through NaNoWriMo or that draft on deadline or beginning a new project, you may be at that part of the process where you're feeling exhausted--or scared to begin. Writer fatigue and fear are hard to combat in the face of a lot of bad news, and especially hard to slug it out when it looks like the possibility of selling is dwindling to nothing.
And this, ironically, is when we need story the most.
Story-telling has been around for millennia for a reason--we need to connect. We need to both transport somewhere other than our own daily circumstances and to connect to others, to know that someone out there understands us. Understands our fears, our desires. We need to escape, without physically abandoning our family and friends. Stories do that. We need the hope, the connection, the dream.
Write a story for us. I put the word out and here's what a few authors have heard from their fans. Heather Graham: I met a charming woman at an autographing who hugged my book; she told me she had just lost her husband, and that it had been one of my books that had first helped her get her mind off her loss. It was one of the finest moments I've ever had as an author; it's great to want to make the lists, but I don't think it ever occurred to me that I could actually help a fellow human being get through terrible moments of pain. She'll never know how deeply it touched me that I could touch her. Shari Anton: Received a letter. "I live outside New Orleans, and I discovered you not long after being exiled from the metro area by the evil Katrina and Rita. Midnight Magic was absolutely wonderful, and I look forward to your next creation. I love ALL THINGS MEDIEVAL, and was actually married in "Canterbury Wedding Chapel." You and another writer saved my sanity during the first weeks. Thank you!! You helped me keep my sanity." Jennifer Ashley: I received an email not long ago from a woman who told me that she'd read some of my books while taking her small daughter to chemotherapy for leukemia. She went with her to the children's hospital several times a week, and said that reading my books while she waited for her daughter helped her get through this very tough time. My heart broke for her. I was happy that my stories could help her in some small way.
Eloisa James: I got this letter from a reader a few years ago, after Pleasure for Pleasure published. I kept it because I never want to forget how important our books are to women's lives in ways that may seem less than obvious. Yes, romance is escapist -- and I love to be carried away to a story of people who never worry about money! But romance can also be a forceful, serious support to women in the most difficult aspects of their lives: romance can champion the people who our culture dismisses, or throws aside. I wanted to thank you for writing Pleasure for Pleasure. I'm a petite woman who clocks in at a little under 200 lbs., and there are simply times when I feel fat. I'm quite aware that I need to lose weight, for various health reasons, but like many other people, I have trouble doing so. Naturally, I empathize with Josie because she goes through so many of the troubles that women who are relegated to the "plus-size" clothing of today do. It's very hard to look yourself in the mirror sometimes and realize that the person in it is you; I tend to have a mental disconnect regarding body image... in my mind's eye, I look like I weigh less, and it's always a shock to confront the actual reality. Reading Pleasure for Pleasure, however, has had the opposite effect. I feel beautiful right now, no matter what I weigh, and that's a rare gift that you've given to your readers. At the moment, I'm able to look myself in the mirror and see the person that my boyfriend says he sees, when he tells me that I'm beautiful. So thank you--I really appreciate it, not to mention the fact that I loved the book. In my travels, I've met many women with similar stories. Please feel free to share yours. Bottom Line: 8 more shopping days until Christmas. 8 more days to go buy that book (or write that book) that will give someone that special something to get them through their own rough patch. One of my very favorite Christmas video. Vintage Bing Crosby and David Bowie. Posted by Barbara Vey on December 18, 2008 | Comments (14)
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Amanda commented: When my grandma was in the nursing home, I would sit there while she slept and I read Temptress by Lisa Jackson. It took me away to a distant time and place and I was grateful for the wonderful distraction.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Missy Taylor commented: I've always grabbed a book when I was feeling emotional. I would block out the world go to my room and read as far back as I can remember. I always said that when my problems got overwhelming I'd escape in a book and when I surfaced back to reality everything looked clearer and less complicated. If for some reason I didn't have a book I would go lay down and daydream my own story with the same results. Writing them down is harder than I ever thought it would be but it's a labor of love. And now I have a new way of looking at it.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Eloisa James commented: I've never seen that video before--how wonderful! Their voices mesh together surprisingly beautifully.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Eloisa James commented: I've never seen that video before--how wonderful! Their voices mesh together surprisingly beautifully.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Edie Ramer commented: I read that post on MurderSheWrites, but it's worth reading again. And again and again. Thanks for posting it!
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Leigh Purtill commented: That video is an oldie but a goodie! Thanks for the reminder about why we write. Sometimes you get so bogged down by the business (will this sell better than the last one? will it win an award?) that you forget the reader - the most important person in the world.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... VALERIE ANNE FAULKNER commented: Here’s a little different perspective. It has to do with fan mail...I have received a number of e-mails and thought I’d share this particular one...
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... VALERIE ANNE FAULKNER commented: Here’s a little different perspective. It has to do with fan mail...I have received a number of e-mails and thought I’d share this particular one...
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Leah commented: Wow - if this doesn't inspire people, I don't know what will.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Stacey Klemstein commented: I have long considered books to be the ultimate escape hatch. Always being the new kid (my father was a minister, and we frequently moved) was difficult. Sometimes you don't have anyone to talk to or anyone to eat lunch with you.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Stacey Klemstein commented: I have long considered books to be the ultimate escape hatch. Always being the new kid (my father was a minister, and we frequently moved) was difficult. Sometimes you don't have anyone to talk to or anyone to eat lunch with you.
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... mary s commented: Thanks Barb--the video was great--and your blog too! Happy Holidays!
December 18, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... Jess Granger commented: I read Montana Sky to my Grandma as she was dying of cancer. My Mom, sister-in-law and I would rotate, picking up where the other left off. Grandma confessed that she liked it when I read the best, because I didn't edit out the good parts like my Mom.
December 19, 2008
In response to: When the Going Gets Rough... RevDeb commented: Absolutely. Story keeps us living and moving and reminding us that we are always more than... Keep writing and reading. It is the imagination that gives us hope and faith and makes us human! And the video and song IS my favorite this time of year.
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