Life as I knew it ceased to exist January 28, 2007. That was the day my husband and best friend of forty years died from complications of a bone marrow disorder called Refractory Anemia. I still can not write about it without crying, but the encouraging news is I still write.
From May of 2005, when my husband, David was diagnosed with the dire prognosis of a two to five year life expectancy, our lives were forever changed. He required at least once a week visits to his primary doctor to do blood work and bi-monthly trips to his oncologist sometimes more often depending on what treatments they were experimenting with at the time. David also required trips to the infusion center at a large hospital for blood and platelet transfusions as often as three times a week, because this disorder virtually shut down his body’s ability to manufacture blood and platelets.
Your tragedy may not mirror mine, but any traumatic event may jerk your normal life to a screeching halt and shove you down a path you wouldn’t wish on your worse enemy.
It’s a little like crashing your car at midnight in a scary neighborhood in a town you never intended to visit. Through mind numbing shock and trauma, you evaluate your options and find the only possible help will send you through a dark alley. Instinct or experience warns you of the danger. You rack your brain and pray for a better plan or a safer way of escape, but finding none you gather your courage and begin the journey. You find you must continue to fight your way through each heart wrenching set back for that chance to survive. When you finally arrive to the part where the end is written, you and your writing will be forever changed.
One of the consequences of having a loved one seriously ill is you shift to, what I refer to, as survival mode. The illness can consume your energy and demand your attention to the exclusion of all else.
The following are a few lessons I learned of surviving tragedy and how to keep writing in the process.
#1 Write something each day even if it’s your “to do” list.
During my husband’s illness, I woke up each day with a tentative to do list and depending on David’s need for a hospital or doctor’s visit, the items on my list were accomplished, delayed or in some cases deemed impossible and scrapped altogether.
I would be lying if I told you the writing gets easier. In the mist of the ordeal, sometimes it gets harder when the news is bad and your already exhausted emotions simply shut down your creative flow.
It’s okay. Don’t panic your creativity and joy of writing will eventually return. Sometimes your muse can arrive unexpectantly in micro bursts of words before disappearing again.
If your tragedy requires lengthy periods of waiting, I suggest keeping a tote bag packed ready to take with you. Include healthy snacks, bottled water and books to read, those in the same genre you write will help you learn. Invest in a good battery operated light that clips to your book because good lighting is not always available.
Reread a favorite book and list reasons you love it as you read. This can help to take the focus off of where you are at the moment and help you learn something about the art of satisfying your reader.
A spiral notebook is good to have to journal your feelings and can be especially helpful when you need to vent. Stress can affect how we perceive our environment and those around us. This is valuable information to know when you are writing about stressed out characters. Write down your raw emotions and then ask yourself why do you feel that way? There are no wrong answers. Your characters and your writing will benefit from the depth of your experience later on. And believe it or not time will dull the pain and fade your memories of the event, which is a blessing for you, but less beneficial for your characters.
#2 Even if you think you’ll never be able to write again, you will.
Don’t expect to write a great epic novel during this time of turmoil, but neither be too surprised if your writing improves even though you feel as if everything you put down stinks. Give yourself permission to do the best you can and then let it go. I now tend to second guess myself when making decisions, writing is one of those areas. I write and rewrite and when this article comes out I’ll probably groan with red-faced embarrassment to find elementary errors I’ve made. Hopefully the editor will catch any serious mistakes but if not, I’ll live and will do better next time. I’m not giving myself permission to do sloppy work but grace, for grieving is a process that affects the physical and emotional healing time.
I write Inspirational Romantic Suspense and was stunned to learn in the mist of our ordeal I had won the Where the Magic Begins contest in 2006. In 2007, mere weeks after my husband’s death, I received a call to inform me I had finaled in the Daphne du Maurier. The contest feedback can be valuable assets, but sometimes hard to deal with when you desperately need encouragement not criticism during the difficult times. However, if you want to be a good writer you must learn to accept both criticism and encouragement with objectivity. If the suggestions of three judges seem overwhelming break your edits down to five pages at a time and put it aside for a few hours or until the next day then do a little more. It’s your story so after considering the advice, if the suggestion or criticism doesn’t help, don’t use it.
