Thursday, August 14, 2008
For me, one of the best things about writing, other than getting checks in the mail, is helping another writer get started.
Last night, a good friend who has recently battled (and won against) breast cancer emailed because she couldn't find my number. She forgot to put it in her cell phone. (She calls them blonde moments since she recently went blonde. I call them Alzheimer's or senior moments, but she's sticking to blonde.) A miracle happened and she wanted to share it. I waited. And waited. And waited. She didn't call. I could just see her fumbling with her new cell phone trying to get my named spelled just right and putting in my phone number with some of the numbers reversed, checking it against the email and putting it in again, so I called her.
The miracle is that her twin sister, who has been in the hospital near death for weeks, is out of danger and has been transferred to a rehab facility in northern Colorado. It is a miracle because it didn't look like Glenda was going to make it. The doctors were talking about taking her off the machines, but Glenda rebounded and she's going to be fine.
As we talked, I told her the news about the two new books coming out and about writing. Her therapist suggesting keeping a journal to help her deal with the breast cancer and all the surgeries and she asked if it was the kind of thing that a publisher might be interested in. I told her yes and suggested checking out the Chicken Soup and Cup of Comfort web sites and that if she wanted to write about her experiences I'd be glad to help her navigate the publishing waterways. A writer may have just been born last night and that makes me really happy, not only for her but for the people whose lives she will touch.
She is such a funny and intelligent woman who has dealt with the worst that life can throw at you with grace and tenacity. That is something to write about.
That is one of the most wonderful things about writing, helping someone find their voice. I don't consider her a rival, but a sister of the pen. There can never be too many writers -- or readers for that matter. Good thing writers like to read, too.
That is all. Disperse.