When
faced with every new writing project, I pray that the words will flow cleanly and
that when they reach their final destination and pool in the reservoir of a
completed work, the reader will take the time to plunge in.
With
my memoir, Through the Tunnel of Love, a
Mother's and Daughter's Journey with Anorexia, the initial paragraph, which
became part of the prologue, came to me unexpectedly: “Nicole had lost her will
to live; she was dying. Our beautiful fifteen year old daughter was killing
herself slowly with each passing day. I knew it was calculated and I was unable
to change the course of our lives. For the past year our family had been living
in a nightmare and I wanted to wake up – NOW.”
The
power of our story overwhelmed me at first, but I had to get it down. I wrote a
great deal of it in long hand and then transcribed to the computer, editing as
I went along. Tunnel was written over a period of six years. As memories flooded
back, some so agonizing that I wrote with tears streaming down my face, I knew
I had to finish it; I had to see it through. Parts of the book were derived
from my journals and several chapters came directly from my short stories. The
bulk of it came from my heart.
The
more I wrote, the faster the memories surfaced, especially the painful ones;
the ones I thought had been long buried and forgotten. Over the course of the
first year, I realized that my raw wounds needed to rise to the surface, in
order to begin the healing process. Then I prayed that upon completion of the
book, my family could also benefit from my labor of love.
In
2004 I entered the opening chapters of the first draft of Through the Tunnel of Love in Pacific Northwest Writers
Association’s literary contest in the memoir category. It was the first writing
contest I had entered and to my surprise, I was named a finalist. I attended
the July conference with a fluttering heart and stomach. That honor offered me contacts
and the necessary confidence to edit, revise, and complete my memoir. The
following six years brought me three more honors from PNWA’s literary contest in
the memoir category. Eventually two of my winning short stories were included in
Through the Tunnel of Love.
I
had asked for and was given permission by our daughter to tell our story
because I believed that it was an important topic and that our experience could
help others in similar circumstances. I wanted them to know what had worked for
us and what didn’t, and hoped our story would help them, and above all, to
realize they were not alone.
I
pitched my book and sent queries to the well-known publishing houses and
literary agents; but as encouraging as they were, they said my memoir just
didn't fit their criteria at that time. My folder filled with rejection letters,
but I was not deterred. In the fall of 2010, I participated as a panelist and a
reader in Rivers of Ink writer's
workshop in Richland, WA. Through this venue, I was encouraged by panelists and
audience members to publish my work. I listened, decided it was time, and looked
for a small local press. Over the next three months the editor and I worked
together. By January, Through the Tunnel
of Love was launched on its journey and was published in April of 2011.
To
this day, my daughter has read only the prologue. For Nicole, the reality of
her illness at that critical stage was more than she could process. She said
she wasn’t ready to relive it and confessed that the worst years, 1997 to 1999,
were completely lost to her. Even though Nicole has not read her story, our
story, she is my strongest proponent and cheerleader. She realizes how much we
loved her and that we didn’t give up, not for a minute.
I
have learned many lessons from writing Through
the Tunnel of Love. The most valuable ones are: listen to your heart,
follow your dream, and if it is to write, then do it. Don’t wait and don’t
listen to your twisted muse when it says it can’t be done, or you‘ll never
finish, or no one wants to read your book.
Nicole
almost died listening to her twisted
muse, the VOICE inside her head that told her she was fat; told her she was worthless,
and told her she deserved to die. So as a writer, surround yourself with
loving, supportive people who believe in you. If you belong to a critique
group, think carefully before you employ all of their advice. Sift through
their criticism, their ideas, and keep what you believe in, what comes from
your heart. Remember this is your story, not theirs.
Anorexia
Nervosa remained a part of our lives for eight years. It is an insidious
disease and it nearly took our daughter's life. I think that’s why I write primarily
memoir. It’s a way of sharing what’s close to my heart: memoires, experiences,
and lessons learned. I believe this is a valuable thing to do, especially when
others, including yourself, are helped in the process.
