LEGACY
I worry about the rubble:
the faded ink, the torn pages.
Is the rumored whimper
of the world as it dies
really the quiet mewl of
long-forgotten stories?
More poems and stories at jackieleasommers.com/writer.
Image credit: Engelhardt Photography
In the past seven months, I have realized just how courageous a writer needs to be.
Brave enough to attempt to make something out of nothing.
Brave enough to seek out feedback and criticism on a wild, unruly word-child.
Brave enough to face heartbreaking rejection from agents and editors.
Brave enough to consider a whole new direction for the story or poem.
Brave enough to allow readers to love or hate your baby.
Since I underwent ERP, I haven’t been so afraid as after I got my contract.
Nor have I been so courageous.
Image credit: Unsplash
Good thoughts.
We elders—what kind of a handle is this, anyway, halfway between a tree and an eel?—we elders have learned a thing or two, including invisibility. Here I am in a conversation with some trusty friends—old friends but actually not all that old: they’re in their sixties—and we’re finishing the wine and in serious converse about global warming in Nyack or Virginia Woolf the cross-dresser. There’s a pause, and I chime in with a couple of sentences. The others look at me politely, then resume the talk exactly at the point where they’ve just left it. What? Hello? Didn’t I just say something? Have I left the room? Have I experienced what neurologists call a TIA—a transient ischemic attack? I didn’t expect to take over the chat but did await a word or two of response. Not tonight, though. (Women I know say that this began to happen to them when…
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My friend Tony (who blogs over at A Way With Words) gifted me with a copy of his book, Delight in Disorder: Ministry, Madness, Mission. It is part-memoir, part-devotional, and entirely remarkable.
The book tells of Tony’s journey with bipolar disorder and God, and while I don’t have bipolar disorder, I do understand the darkness of mental illness … and the beauty of a sovereign savior.
Tony frames the book by walking us through his “home”– stories about his family in the “family room,” the devastating lows of a suicide attempt in the “basement,” etc.– and prefaces each short devotional thought with a quote from the Psalms.
From this book, I feel like I have a better understanding of bipolar disorder and a deepened appreciation for a God who pursues his people. I related to so many of Tony’s experiences, and thought the book gave a fair treatment to the church, which sometimes hurts its mentally ill members in such harmful ways but also sometimes so beautifully reflects the flabbergasting self-sacrifice and kindness of Christ. The writing is honest, humble, and vulnerable without ever feeling self-indulgent.
I recommend this book to Christians who are struggling with a mental illness– and to the people who love them.
Delight in Disorder: Ministry, Madness, Mission can be purchased through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.
Some of you remember when I interviewed Hannah, a former HOCD sufferer, on my blog.
Hannah is open to a second interview, if there are enough questions from blog readers. First, if you haven’t already read her first interview, read it at the link above. Then leave your questions for Hannah in the comments below.
I’ll curate.
I’m not going to link to Ruth Graham’s article on Slate because it was ridiculous (adults should be embarrassed to read YA fiction … give me a break).
Nor am I going to add to the multitude of (quite excellent) rebuttals.
I just wanted to say why I love reading and writing quality young adult literature.
It’s because of the wonder. The stories are so exploratory, so youthful, so for-the-first-time. There’s discovery, deep thought, processing, amazement. I love the awe, the fascination, and even the acuteness of the pain. (As Cat Stevens would remind us, The first cut is the deepest.)
Don’t think I’m implying that adult literature doesn’t or can’t have these things too. My only point is that they’re pretty inherent in YA, and I love that about it.
Image credit: Misko, cropped by me
I finished my next round of revisions early in the month, and to be honest, I felt a jumble of things: relief, excitement, anxiety, gratitude. I also felt blazingly aware of my inability to judge my own work. I am too close to it now, after two and a half years, to be able to tell if it’s good or bad, working or not. I have a general idea that the majority of it is good, but I’m just too immersed to be objective. I pray to God that my editor (and future readers) will love it.
This month, I also made a list of 17 long-term goals. (Has anyone around here noticed that I’m very goal-oriented?) Among these long-term goals were finishing my second novel and beginning to dream about my third. It’s been fun to start playing around with characters and ideas again and to be doing so early enough that I don’t have to force anything or press myself time-wise.
Another of my goals was to create a budget and get a better handle on my finances. My friend Cindy recommended that I try Mint.com, and I’m loving it so far! It’s fascinating to be able to cull all of one’s financial information into one spot.
This month, I went to my favorite six-year-old’s dance recital, visited my regular doctor about my wrists (typing on a laptop all day at work and all night for my novel = wrists destroyed from overuse), visited my psychiatrist about OCD meds (not rocking that boat), went to an Emerging Artists Collective gathering (where the brilliant Judy Hougen discussed the importance of beauty), and went to The Fault in Our Stars in my local theater (a wonderful adaptation of one of my favorite books!). I babysat my favorite girlies, saw a lot of friends, enjoyed the Minnesota rain. I also am working with Leah Kirkwood, a wonderful young graphic designer, so be prepared for a new look to this blog … coming soon!
How was your June? Has it felt about a million years long to anyone else?
Being a 32-year-old writer is complicated.
I am learning to master language (though I am far, far from mastery, to be clear), and I know how to wield words: I honor people with my words and I hurt people with them too.
At 32, I have more grace for others than at any other point in my history. But I am also the freest I have ever been, and so I exercise sharing my voice more than ever before.
Let’s just say that all of these factors mean that I have a lot of weapons on me and also a lot of cure. I am still so far from knowing how to use these resources rightly.
Image credit: Unsplash
Yes yes yes. YES.
By Tim Wynne-Jones
Ruth Graham’s piece in Slate advising us that we ought to be ashamed of reading young adult novels caused some seismic activity on the faculty listserv, earlier this month, and we were all, I suppose, happy to see a well-wrought rejoinder by Alyssa Rosenberg in The Washington Post. I’ve just read Graham’s piece again and it’s actually harmless, well written and quite interesting. Do none of us ever question our reading? More to the point, do we not all care a great deal about how reading impacts on our lives and especially on our writing lives? Upon rereading the article in Slate, I went on to read pages and pages of commentary. I was encouraged by the fact that most people disagreed with Graham, but not quite so encouraged by the disposition of some of the commentators. But that’s freedom of speech, for you…
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I just finished City of Heavenly Fire, the sixth and final book of The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare. This book definitely wasn’t my favorite of the series (I’m always bummed when the final book of a series isn’t my favorite). But I love Cassie Clare’s characters and wit and there was no way I wasn’t going to finish the 725-page behemoth.
Not THAT spoilery items:
A couple things that were tough for me: 1) most of the book took place in Edom/Hell, so … that’s dark, 2) the ending was sad … but then when it was “corrected,” it made me wonder what the point of the sad part was, 3) I haven’t read The Infernal Devices series (the prequel trilogy to this series), and so I missed out on some of the “Easter eggs”– to be clear, I didn’t miss them: I knew I was supposed to be feeling something big, but I couldn’t conjure those big feelings because I am unfamiliar with the series, so … that was not effective for me, 4) this book really, really set up the subsequent The Dark Artifices series, and while I was quite fascinated by the new characters introduced, I’m not sure yet if I’ll read the series, and so it felt a little like in High School Musical 3, where everything is noticeably getting teed up so that the next thing can hit a home run.
And now, a VERY spoilery item:
You have been warned.
Are you still scrolling down?
Okay, then it’s your fault if you’ve kept going.
Not that you’ll be that surprised by this, to be honest.
I mean, I think we all knew this would happen.
…
…
…
Okay, I’m done protecting you now.
Jace and Clary had sex. In a cave in hell. And Tumblr is being hilarious about it.
Tumblr really cracks me up.
Also, to be clear, props to CC for the safe(r) sex.
JACKIE LEA SOMMERS 