Nearly six years since I last made a post on this blog, I find myself drawn back to long form content. And, I will write long form, in spite of what current technology is doing to the collective mind. However, before I jump back in, I need to fill you in on the stage of my manuscript and explain why six years, rather than eighteen months, elapsed in the writing of this one.

When I last posted on my blog, I was weeks away from life imploding. I will preface this post to say:

1) this will contain a few more details than I have shared before via other social media outlets,

2) in respecting others who experienced this pain alongside me, I will not reveal details that are not solely mine to divulge.

3) all events vastly impacted the trajectory of WHERE THE MEMORIES LIVE.

When I began the manuscript in the fall of 2019, I played with the idea of reanimated memories. I knew I wanted to write about semi-estranged sisters to confront family dynamics I had observed before. However, I didn’t know how much distorted family dynamics affect our lives.

The following events will not be in the order that they occurred in order to preserve the anonymity of those involved.

April 2020

Just weeks after posting my last blog post, our then four-year-old daughter became sick. Very sick. Only a few weeks into lockdowns, our daughter needed to go to the ER. Unfortunately, hospitals didn’t want non-respiratory-distress cases. The on-call nurse told us that we had to go to a pediatric hospital, only if we absolutely had to. The closest hospital wouldn’t take her. My husband packed up our screaming preschooler and drove thirty minutes to the closest pediatric hospital. When technicians drew and calculated her labs, doctors told us our daughter was very, very sick. She remained in the hospital for several days with just my husband (Covid policies barred a second adult). In her Facetime videos with me, she begged me to come. 

It’s a form of torture to hear your young child ask for you and to legally be unable to go.

After being released with a diagnosis of a congenital kidney defect that led to repeated (and severe) kidney infections, she came home to a year on antibiotics. 

Recently, my daughter, now ten, mentioned being hospitalized for most of 2020. I gently corrected her that she only stayed there several nights. It really did feel longer.

There are many layers to this one instance that I could write a whole book on this event alone. In summary: you will never understand how truly lonely it can feel when half your family is in a hospital, your other young daughter at home is reeling from events, and not a single soul will come offer you comfort because officials forbade contact with others.

It is the loneliest place I have ever been in my entire life.

I sobbed alone in my closet or bathroom more than I care to admit.

The next five years of life pummeled us:

  • our house flooded
  • an infection landed my dad in the hospital, fighting for his life
  • my sister and brother-in-law had to cancel their wedding celebration
  • two extended family members committed different offences, leading to brief incarcerations and fractures in our extended families
  • we lost several family members to old age or cancer (if I’m remembering correctly, since 2016, we have lost somewhere close to 15 family members, 12 of them within an eighteen month span)
  • a secret in my marriage nearly broke me
  • repeat invasive testing for our daughter’s health issue horrendously traumatized us
  • close family members developed crippling anxiety that affected our daily lives
  • my husband nearly died from sepsis, and doctors admitted him to the ER two other times to check for heart attacks
  • doctors diagnosed me with a slew of syndromes (including one genetic) that explained why my health tanked but still hasn’t lead to a great relief from symptoms

Those are only the “highlights,” as there were actually many more things that left us reeling and breathless. In short, it was a lot, and more than once we were crushed harder than ever before, nearly suffocating under the weight of things we had to largely deal with on our own.

I questioned writing a lot. Facing several near-losses, I questioned the meaning of everything. Showing up on social media became counterproductive to my sanity (and health), especially with its heightened vitriol.

Where does Where the Memories Live fit in?

WHERE THE MEMORIES LIVE walks through the theme of forgiveness, and society needs that message more than ever. The message can be uncomfortable. We often don’t want to forgive when the offending party never admits their fault. However, forgiveness was never meant for the offender, it was meant for the one hurt.

WHERE THE MEMORIES LIVE attempts to explore all the levels of forgiveness from who were wronged to the undeserving who others forgave. It examines the ripple effects of holding onto bitterness and what happens to those who take bitterness to the grave.

I wove a sense of loss throughout this story, alongside my own fresh grief. Some scenes I wrote while sobbing after my aunt died, and I wrote the opening after my grandpa died.

I hope – more than any overt success of this book – that this book comforts hurting readers. Let my pain, and the lessons I’ve learned from it, help you through your wounds, whether they’re old or fresh ones.

What I’m doing now:

As to the nitty-gritty details of where this manuscript is now:

I have a few final readers graciously reading through WHERE THE MEMORIES LIVE. After feedback and final edits, it will head into the (super scary) query trenches. Over the last several years I stalled my progression, knowing I couldn’t yet face the certain rejection I will receive during the next step. Sometimes personal life is too tender to willingly add professional criticism and rejection to the heap.

I’m also in the process of revamping my website to match my genre better. Alongside the redesign, I will also introduce a newsletter. The newsletter will be a brand new form of content, not merely a blog feed. The newsletter will be sent out once a month, highlight books I’m loving, what I’m writing, and glimpses into my artwork (that’s never made an appearance here!).

While I’m preparing to query, I’ll be revamping and introducing these and resurrecting the graveyard of my Instagram account (I’m basically now a ghost there for lack of posting). I’ll also be polishing query letters and all the lovely bits that are required to face this business side of the writing world again.

If you’ve read to the end, thank you. Thank you to those who have been here since A SACRIFICIAL JUSTICE, since my youngest was still in diapers, and to newcomers. As life’s dust settles, I plan to return to the internet, at least in between teaching school lessons. Because, as of 2020, we’re now a homeschooling family too.