Ok, Twist My Arm

Ladies and gentleman, here is what I have decided. Due to your emails in which you, my cherished readers, have asked me to NOT stop talking about the book, I have decided to keep posting about it, at least general things. It's not like I'm writing something shameful, after all. My book has consumed my life for seven years. When I made the very last edits on my mother's birthday, I realized I had been a hermit since the age of forty-two, just because this project possessed my heart and mind. In order to write the book, I've had to cancel all kinds of fun things, I didn't travel, I burnt-out a hard drive on my previous laptop, I've had to say "no" when I would 'way rather have not done so, just to get this book done.

I finished my book on my mother's birthday because I wanted this to be a gift for her, the woman who, despite her imperfections, gave birth to me and did many good things for me, and who lived as equally a life of bravery as she lived a tragic one. I also want to let my readers know that I got more than just a manuscript out of this. Here's a list, by no means all-inclusive, of what happened to me due to this book (we'll leave out carpal tunnel syndrome and stronger glasses, just for now):

1) I got, from far-flung places, a treasure trove of photographs and memorabilia of my family. Since my book begins with the fact that, once upon a time, "every artifact of my childhood vanished without a trace," this was on the level of the semi-miraculous. And I didn't get these things right away--I had to go through years of imagining the lives of the people in my book, without having any reference point.

2) I made contact with beloved relatives whom I thought had been lost to me forever.

3) I traveled to Boston twice, both under the auspices of things to do with my mother, but I connected again with a city that is truly an enormous part of my life.

4) I got an MFA, for goodness' sake, and a bunch of wonderful friends/colleagues/instructors/students, all of whom I feel privileged to know.

5) I had the honor of exploring the lives of my relatives, and get into their heads as characters--to touch the tragedy of my grandfather and his loneliness, the wild beauty and vulnerability of my mother, and the incredible survivorship of my grandmother and great-grandmother. Despite the fact that I can only see through a glass darkly as to who they really were, I felt I got to know all of them better.

6) I have the satisfaction of saying, "I wrote a book," instead of "Gee, I think I want to write a book someday."

I've been talking to my creative writing students all summer about basically not hiding their light and about bravery as writers and artists, and I realized today that, well, why not me, too? Physician, take your own medicine, I always say.

So there! :)