On Grief

 

I started my writing career writing comedies (I Waxed My Legs for This? anyone?). When I began writing more emotional books, some readers were surprised...and I'm so thankful they stuck with me. There was so much to explore in these stories about being human. One I've come back to again and again is grief.

Loss. 

We all carry some grief over a loss with us. As a writer, I have the luxury of writing my way through my grief. One of my most autobiographical books is Briar Hill Road. I had a very close relationship with my mother-in-law. She was one of my best friends. (We used to joke that if my husband divorced me, I was getting her in the settlement. Thankfully, we never had to test that one!)  Losing her...well, it left a hole in all our lives. I wrote Briar Hill Road as my way to work through that loss. The story is fictional, but there are so many layers of my truth in it.

I wrote Just One Thing as another side of exploring loss and grief. It was a book I knew was different. I mean, most of the book took place on Mondays. (Yep, it was my homage to my Monday Glee.) And it was a story told in reverse, through flashbacks. I had someone close to me who dealt with depression. That feeling of helplessness in the face of their pain...this was my way of dealing with it. And though I suspected it would be a hard sell, I still felt driven to write it. My agent kept getting..."We love it but..." rejections. But eventually it found its home and went on to be my bestselling book to date. And I've received so many touching notes from readers who found some comfort in the story. I can't tell you how much that meant and means to me.

I understand that when I'm writing a book, I own it. It's my journey from Once Upon a Time to The End. But the minute I type the end, that story lives a life of its own. It might change under editorial revisions, but I still own those revisions. And then it goes to the readers. Sort of like a train. (I'm using train because a certain family member is crazy for them.) My book is a train and the reader is the passenger. They bring all their own baggage with them when the board and they pick their seat...each seat might have a slightly different view. They own the story at that point. Whenever their view moves them to send me a note...well, I treasure that. And when I hear that a book helped them deal with their grief...it means even more.

Homecoming is a different type of book on loss. Learning to let go and open yourself to something new.  It was part of my Hometown Hearts series. Each of the books dealt with some kind of loss. From giving a child up for adoption, to dementia, to losing a friend... The series dealt with community and how they can help us heal. Having someone else believe in you when you're at your lowest point makes a difference.

I like to think that though my books are fiction, they represent real life. From laughter to love to loss. The whole of it. And each one of those come into play to different degrees in each of my books.

My July release, Chances, deals with yet another kind of grief and loss. One tragic accident changes my heroine's life. Despite her grief, she finds a new path that gives her...well, another chance. It's available for preorder now. And I hope you'll check out these...and my newest release, A View to a Kiln: A Harry's Pottery Mystery. 

Holly

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A View to a Kiln: A Harry's Pottery Mystery
Kindle
iBooks
Kobo
Nook

Have you missed any of my Hometown Hearts series? Here's the list:

Crib Notes: Hometown Hearts #1

Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBook

A Special Kind of Different: Hometown Hearts #2

Kindle, iBook, Kobo, Nook

Homecoming: Hometown Hearts #3

Kindle, Kobo, IBooks, Nook

 Suddenly a Father: Hometown Hearts #4

Kindle, Kobo, Nook, iBooks

Something Borrowed: Hometown Hearts #5

Kindle, Kobo, Nook, iBooks

Something Blue: Hometown Hearts #6 

Kindle, Kobo, Nook, Apple Books

Something Perfect: Hometown Hearts #7 

Apple Books, Nook, Kobo, Kindle

Something Unexpected: A Hometown Hearts short story 
Amazon

A Hometown Christmas: Hometown Hearts #8
Kindle 
Nook
AppleBooks
Kobo

Remembering Marge

I wrote this the morning after Marge passed. I've sat on it for a few days, but decided to post it. She deserves to be remembered by more than us. And though she never served in the military, she served in her church and in the school she taught in.

Marge and I had a relationship that always seemed to require an explanation. I was her neighbor, before that I knew her because she was my in-law's neighbor. She was much older than me, but we became friends. Her husband, Elmer, was older than her and he was a handful. When we'd see him climbing up a ladder to clean his gutters, I'd send me son out to help. My son was so sweet as Elmer explained the proper way to clean gutters dozen of times.

We just sort of inadvertently adopted them. When they went to Florida one year and Elmer's health became more precarious, they stayed down there. I talked to Marge every week or so. It became clear that Elmer wasn't going to leave his care center, so they came home to Erie. Elmer moved into a nursing home care unit and Marge moved into an independent apartment in the same building. She spent most of every day with him. But once a week, I'd drive to the other side of town and pick her up. We'd work at cleaning out her house. Her short-term memory was slipping, so sometimes we'd pack up a box and minutes later, go back to check it and repack it. It took the better part of a year to pack up the house in those once-a-week visits. We'd pack an afternoon away, then she'd come next door to dinner. The kids simply accepted Marge was ours and required no explanation.

When Elmer passed, Marge's adoption became even more important. When a doctor or someone who didn't know us assumed I was her daughter or granddaughter, we laughed and I'd explain I was her fungus...she caught me and couldn't get rid of me.

When the minions came along, they went to visit her every week at the nursing home. Sister was the receptionists and they loved high-fiving her. Frankly, they'd high five any resident who came down the hall as we went to Marge's room. They grew up at the nursing home. When Marge's mental status declined further, she needed to a care unit. There is an east side location for the home and we moved her there...within walking distance of my house. It was so much easier to visit more often.  Last summer, the minions would dress up in a superhero costume and climb on their scooters (it's hard to ride a bike with a cape) and we'd go make sure everyone was safe in the home. They felt as if they owned her new home every bit as much as her old home. By now, Marge couldn't tell you our name, but she knew we were hers and she was ours. The minions kept her well stocked with pictures and the occasional sweet treat.

After my surgery, the first place I hobbled to afterwards was to visit Marge. I crutched my way down the hall on Christmas day because no one should be alone on Christmas. No one should not see family. And that's what we were. When PA went into lock-down, we couldn't visit Marge. She was long past the time for phone calls, so I kept tabs on her by talking to the amazing, wonderful staff at the nursing home. They called a week ago to say she was going downhill. They called Friday to say that we could have a compassionate visit. So we gowned and masked up and went to see Marge one last time. I took along cards that the minions had made her. One said I love you, one had Marge, the minion and a robot, and one just had a picture of a minion and Marge. That night, the home called just after midnight to say she'd passed. She was alone and that breaks me heart. In our family, we don't leave loved ones to pass alone. But I hope she knows she wasn't truly alone, because we were family. She was ours and we were hers. I was her fungus...she caught me and I stuck.

I did an interview this week, talking about my Hometown Hearts series. I said that it was like so many of my books, the heart of the stories is family. It's about what makes a family. In the interview, Julie asked about what led me to write so many books with that question...what makes a family? It's because I've learned that family isn't about genetics...it's about love. And Marge was family. She will be missed. She is mourned.

I didn't meet her until later in her life. I knew bits of those years before me. She grew up on a farm, the baby of a big family. She was a second grade teacher at a Catholic school. Religion was very important to her. She met Elmer later in life and they were inseparable. She loved sweets. She was always smiling. She was stubborn as could be, but she was always smiling and laughing as she told you no. She loved the minions. One of my favorite more recent memories was visiting her one day during a wild game of bingo. The minions helped not only Marge but some of the other residents. And they were so very intent on their assisting. When Marge won a round, they gave a hockey-worthy cheer and she let them pick her prize. They agonized over what small decorative pillow she should have. And then the oldest minion took to it her room and told me he put it right in the middle of her bed so she could see her prize.

But I know that pillow wasn't the true prize. Marge was a gift to our family. And she will truly be missed. And though she didn't serve in the military, today seemed like the perfect day to remember her.

And to all those who served, and all those who gave their life to preserve our freedom, thank you. You are remembered and we appreciate you.

Holly

Book Stories: Just One Thing

I spent most of my career writing for publishers and their guidelines.  And I loved it.  Those guidelines gave me a roadmap.  I knew how far off-roading I could go.

But I had this story that nagged at me.  It was a story that wouldn't fit into the guidelines of my publishers.  It was a story that was definitely more of an off-roading story.  

So...

I wrote Just One Thing on my down-time over the course of a year.  A friend said she set aside Sundays for playing with writing, and I liked that...so I started calling it my Sunday Book. I didn't worry about what a publisher would say...I just wrote it for me.

When I was done, I sent it out to my agent and she loved it.  She sent it out to publishers and we kept getting back the nicest rejections.  They all said things like..."We loved it, BUT we don't know what to do with it."  LOL

Finally, a publisher took a chance with it.  And it turns out, readers don't always need to have a book that fits neatly into a category.  Just One Thing was one of my earliest Romance+ books...books that focus on a heroine's journey.  Her journey includes a romance, but romances isn't the reason for that trip and it's not her ultimate destination.

I'd written two other more emotional books that in hindsight were my first steps into Romance+ market, even though I didn't know it at the time.  Same Time Next Summer and Briar Hill Road set me off down that new path.  And I'm still traveling down it.

(On a side note, for those who follow me here or on Social Media, you know I'm taking a ceramic class.  You can see how much I wanted to try this art in Just One Thing...there's a wistful homage to it.  And now that I'm actually taking it, I realize that this is a case where my fiction really inspired my reality!)

If you haven't checked out Just One Thing, I hope you'll give it a try.  

Holly

PS If you like Just One Thing, my Romance+ story,
check out the rest:

Same Time Next Summer

Briar Hill Road

Words of the Heart Series:

Carry Her Heart

These Three Words

Hold Her Heart